My kids

While we are trying to teach our children all about life,

Our children teach us what life is all about-

Angela Schwindt

I have tried several times to start typing about how thankful I am for my children, but each time I begin, I can't finish. I delete. I can't start. Because how can I put into words how truly grateful I am that God has placed these beautiful people in my life? That I could be trusted enough to hold this precious life in my hand? No words can express my gratitude.

Sometimes I look at them. Really look at them. I listen to William laugh and draw everyone in. Then he demonstrates how he can burp the entire alphabet with only one drink of water! I can see Rachel wrapping her arms protectively around her baby sister at a baby shower filled with people she doesn't know. Walking down the steps, covered in eye shadow and asking me what I think. I hear Luke saying "I wike (like) you mommy" and crawling on my lap for a story. Bella opening and closing her little fists and reaching for me. Laying her head down on me in her special place as I dance with her.

I get to keep them? Only for a little while. With this great blessing comes such responsibility it literally brings me to my knees. What will they remember? Will they know to always trust in God? Will they always be able to come to me with any question or problem? Will they always know they were my angels on earth? I guess only if I tell them. Each and everyday.

I am thankful for my kids.

Scott

My husband.
I am thankful for my husband.

Because he thinks and tells me I am beautiful no matter what.
Because he brings me coffee when he knows I need it.
Because he puts the kids in bed.
Because he prays for me.
Because he asks me what would make me happy.
Because he works hard to provide for our home.
Because he gets me a drink or medicine or whatever I ask for in the middle of the night.
Because he lets me have the heater on in the van even though he hates it.
Because he says get whatever you need.
Because he says I love you all of the time.
Because he leaves me little notes or messages.
Because he packs my lunch.
Because he brings me flowers.
Because he tells me that I am needed.

Blessed beyond measure.

Thankful

Each morning out principal gets on the speaker and gives us his "daily words of wisdom." Today he told a very powerful story. To paraphrase, a man was upset because he did not have shoes. On his walk toward town, he saw a man sitting along side the road who was play the most beautiful music. He began to dance. He called out to the man playing the music "why don't you get up and dance with me?" The man sitting replied " I would love to, but you see I have no feet." Actually, this was the second time we heard the story. When our principal was absent last Friday, the secretary had read this one already. But as I told the my kids "looks like we needed to hear that message one more time!"

Thankfulness. Thanksgiving (my 2nd favorite holiday). To take time to look at what you have and look away from all of the "wants" and "longings" we seem to focus on everyday. Many of us spend time tallying everything we don't have. When we start looking toward what we do have, a peace of heart, a gratefulness falls on us.

Today I am thankful for the one who first put the beat in my heart. To my God who loved me before I was ever formed in my mother. The one who sent His one and only Son to the cross for the sins I would make. To my Savior who loves me when I am unlovable. To the God who casts my sins as far as the east is from the west.

I am thankful for my Jesus, my God, and the gift of the Spirit the dwells within.

Halloween memories

I don't have a very good memory. When someone says "remember when..." I usually panic. Cause I don't. It is nothing against you or whatever happened "that one time." Really. That being said, the memories I do have usually come out quite strong.

One of the kids in school asked me if I like Halloween. "No, I hate it." I am just not a fan of scary stuff. I hate driving past houses and looking at spiders hanging on webs or creepy bloody faces peeking out from everywhere. Plus, people make me nervous. Trick or treating has always made me nervous. The students said " I bet you liked it when you were a kid." Which got me to thinking. I do remember liking the trick or treating part. But I have always hated the scary parts.

When I was a kid, it snowed. That I remember. I remember stepping over snow drifts to get to the houses. Always when picking out a costume you had to make sure you could fit your winter coat under it or had a mask at least when your winter coat was on the outside. I remember the town party we would have before hand. The kids walking in a circle to have their costumes judged. I remember my siblings and I running all over town. And having to dump our bags at least 2 times to fit all of the candy. I remember the huge silver bowl the candy sat in.

There are things that are blurry for me. I know we carved pumpkins. I don't remember much about it. I remember my mom digging in the pumpkins. I could not tell you one Halloween costume I ever wore. Or one piece of candy I ever got.

Then I think about creating memories with my own crew. We carved pumpkins. I HATE carving pumpkins. But they love it. I let them draw whatever face they wanted. Scott carved them. We dug out the seeds. Cleaned up the mess. Scott takes them door to door usually with my mom. I stay home and hand out candy.

I sometimes wonder what will stick. I will live if Rachel never remembers that she was wonder woman for Halloween or if Luke can't recall me digging out his pumpkin guts after he declare it "yuck" and moved on. But I hope they remember joy in their childhood. I hope they remember some fun and laughter.

guess

Will and I have a couple of games we play together while driving to school. One game is guess the number. He says "mommy, I am thinking of a number between 1 and 10." And I guess and guess. Then we switch places.

Today when we were playing, I couldn't get it. I think the very last number it could be was his number. Will said "Mommy, the number was 6. Like my age. How could you not guess that?" When it was my turn I picked 4 (for the number of children I have). I thought for sure it would be his first guess. Or at least his second. He had to be able to read my mind. Funny thing was- he didn't get it. And I was sure his next guess would be it! Actually he "forgot" about 4. He got so concerned that he yelled out 11 in desperation. When I pointed out 11 is not in between 1 and 10 he laughed like crazy and told me he knew that but thought maybe I had become a cheater.

After I dropped him off and I was driving to work myself, I thought about how funny it is that I sometimes think that people can read my mind. It is often a common plight among women and men. He should have known. The men answer with "how could I have known. Why didn't you tell me?" In which case we answer "you should have known."

To be honest I am quite content that know one knows all my thoughts and feelings. And I bet you are too. But if I am unhappy because someone doesn't "know" what I want or need then why not ask. It certainly makes more sense. Then we all know what is going on. What we all want and need.

Today (and tomorrow) I am going to ask.

Isabella Noel

January of 2009 was not a good time for us. The thing about grief is how it consumes you. The smallest thing can seem to suffocate you. Memories. Disbelief. Pain. It was not only winter outside but mostly in our heart as well.

And then came a joyful surprise. A promise of hope. A baby on the way. It seemed almost unreal at the time. That life was continuing. Life would continue on in some fashion. We found out we were having a girl. We would name her Isabella- a name I had carried in my heart for years. The middle name Noel- in memory of our last Christmas.

With her birth, she brought the sun. She brought back the promise of new life and the fulfilling of a promise. She brought hope and laughter. The moments she was born, she cried and I asked if she was ok. When Scott said "she is perfect" I cried. In that moment, my heart that had been fighting the reality of God still being in control, was broken. She was here. And perfect. God was still God. In the pain. And in the joy. He comforts us in times of trial. He rejoices with us with His blessing.

Everyday with you Isabella is a gift I never thought to ask for. Your two tooth grin and squealing joy can't help but hit the heart. Even now, before you can talk, you wave to everyone you meet. Wanting everyone to know that they are noticed. Even if only by you. Your hugs and kisses are treasures.

You are my sunshine. Happy First Birthday Baby Girl.

Thankful Thursday

"A single grateful thought toward heaven is the most complete prayer."

Gotthold Lessing

1. My Jesus
2. My husband, Scott
3. My kids- Will, Rachel, Luke, and Bella
4. My other family- you know who you are ;)
5. My job as a teacher, which I love
6. My husband's job- which he loves
7. warm house
8. food in my belly
9. healthcare
10. books- ahhhh...books (which I need to buy a stack of before next weekend)
11. friends I work with
12. My forever friends
13. cozy Pj's
14. laundry done (LOVE my mom)
15. laughing...lots
16. romantic comedies
17. writing
18. old movies
19. country music
20. health

and I could go on and on......

***** I fixed it Kelly. So thankful for you... ;)

and so goes it...

We are half way through the third week of school. The THIRD week of school.

It seems that when fall hits, the world begins to spin out of control for awhile. At least in my house. I return to my full time teaching gig and the kids return to school/daycare. Soccer, dance, scouts begin. My calendar is covered in red pen. Doctors appointments and choir. Finishing up summer while dancing into autumn.

While these are all good things, sometimes important things can get pushed aside. Quiet moments. Reading a good book. Writing down the beautiful and wonderful clips of life. I found myself thinking, I should write about that. I need to jot that down so I remember. And then I forget.

Like the night before his first day of FIRST grade William told me that he had a funny feeling in his tummy. He said "I think I am hungry." I told him no I think he was nervous. Then he said I think you are right and he asked why things just can't stay the same. I smiled and gave him a hug. Knowing more than he does how fast time will fly.

Rachel had her first "girl" fight at daycare. It seems when Rachel entered the scene another little one wasn't too happy. The other girl thought she would be the boss. No worries though. Rachel told me that she simply told the girl that when Rachel is not around she can be the boss. But when Rachel is there...well, that is a different story.

Luke is now in the pre-school class at daycare. He is writing letters....writing letters. In the three weeks of school, I am proud to announce that he has been in time out only once! And if you know my little ball of excitement you would rejoice too. He is my sweetheart though. As I lay on the couch, crying in pain (more on that) he came over and laid his little hand on me. "I will pray for you mommy."

And did I mention that my Isabella is turning one next week. I was standing in front of the ice cream case today (don't judge me) and thought I should buy this now for Bella's birthday. And then I thought BIRTHDAY. And my eyes got real foggy real quick. Cause she is my baby. My baby. Did I mention about time passing so very quickly.

Scott has gotten a new title at work. Instead of a GUP 2, he is now a GUP 1. No I don't know what he does. I think it is top secret. Or so stinkin' complicated that I can't follow him from point a to point b. You gotta keep it simple, like "I teach kids to read." See, simple.

And I, my friends, am heading into surgery. The whole withering in pain thing? I am having my gall bladder removed. Next Friday. Scott is off already and I also have my sub lined up. Nothing to do but a million pre-op appointments and phone calls.

Let's try and keep in touch, k? Cause I saw my first tree filled with nothing but red leaves today. Time-she is a moving.

thingies

I was so excited! I had found the hair thingies. (real word-I think I have been reading too much fifth grade fiction? Frindle) I bought the cutest hair thingies for Rachel's new school year at daycare. They were cute little clips where one was a butterfly and one was a ladybug! The NICE rubber bands that her very thin and fine hair need. Little bows. All in one great package for one low price at wal*mart.- Sure wal*mart I will take some cash for that great plug in.

BUT we had lost them. By we, I mean my daughter and her much taller friend found them on TOP of the bathroom shelf and opened them. And spread them all over. After I found them, nicely*cough cough* sent them outside, and I put them in a plastic bag. Then I lost the bag. Oops.

But last night I found them. I was so happy I called Rachel in. She was not that impressed. I yelled at Scott to check it out. Again, he didn't see the reason to be jumping. Fine. I was pretty happy.

This morning. I wake up and come downstairs to take a shower. Brushing teeth and then I see something colorful in the toilet. You love how I check my toilet in the morning, huh? The baggie of hair thingies. Swirling in water..around and around. I sigh. And I am going to wal*mart with my three dollars to get a new set!

lucky

He held up a picture. "And this is what your uterus looks like." There was obviously trouble. Now, this wasn't actually a picture of MY uterus, but just a picture of one that was full of endrometriosis. My family doctor self diagnosed me with this after my year long bout with sickness and he had sent me here. To this man. Holding up this awful picture and then telling me "you probably won't have children." I was 21.

I know having children isn't for everyone. But for me, I just always thought it was a given. I would graduate college, get married, have kids, and die happy. But after being sick almost everyday for a year...and then this man telling me I will not be able to have kids...I thought my life was over before it had begun.

I went home and told Scott, my then fiancee, that I could not marry him. He wanted kids and I could not have them. He told me I was crazy. He of course asked me if they had actually looked at MY uterus. Well, no. BUT they did look at my symptoms. And the Dr said so. And the gyno said so.

A couple of weeks later, my mom called Scott to come and get me. I was on the bathroom floor and I was done. He came to my house and scooped me off the floor and drove my mom and I to the hospital. They ran a blood test. I had a UTI that had been let go too long. It was sending poison into my blood. "You need a strong anti-biotic." "That is it? and I will be OK? I can have babies?" The nurse probably thought I was just delirious from the fever.

But that picture stuck with me. What if I can't have kids? What if it just doesn't happen for us. That pain in the pit of my stomach. Sobbing in the backseat of my parents car on the ride home from seeing that picture. Watching my mom wipe the tears from her eyes when they told me. What if?...... I still thought.

On May 17th 2003, I was married. On July 8, 2003 I found out that I was having a baby. My baby.

Now, 7 plus years later, I have 4 beautiful, healthy children. When people ask if we are "done" I laugh. As my husband says he wants to have at least 2 more. People gasp. Look at you funny. Either ask God to bless you or question your sanity.

Too be honest there are days that are an "epic fail." My house is a mess, my children aren't listening, we ate cereal for dinner, and I have to wash a sippy cup to get a clean one for bed drinks. There are times when I ask myself "am I crazy? What made me think I could do this?"

A fellow soon to be mother of 4, Kristen, reminded me of something important today. Someone asked her if this was going to be her forth and she said yes. Waiting for the "your hands are full" or "are you crazy?" response. But instead this woman said you're so lucky. Made her think. And man, did it make me think.

I have many friends struggling right this very minute to get pregnant. Even though I had my moments in the Dr's office and in the back of the old station wagon...I still can't put myself in their shoes. I pray for them. Pray for peace. Pray for the gift they so desperately want.

I look at my own kids. I need to be reminded. Yeah, lucky. I couldn't be luckier.

choosing to be

Last night Rachel and I were laying in bed and discussing how we are all suppose to be working on "being nice" and "loving even when we don't feel like it." She was having "bad day." She threw her little hands up and said "I am trying to be kind but people just won't leave me alone. I try to go and be by myself and be kind and then people come and bug me!" Aaahhh...from the mouths of babes.

It is easy to be kind when it is just me and my coffee. Then you go adding all kind of people and things get a little hairy. But since I read this article by Janel, I can't stop thinking. ( a post of its own)! I need to get to the "heart" of the problem. And not just with my kids! With myself as well.

I understand my daughters laments. Sometimes it is so hard to be kind! If they would just leave me alone! Like when I am sick and my kids are all screaming and fighting. When my husband has forgotten to tell me to write that on the calendar. When I am forgotten by others. When my house is a mess. (you don't see the connection??)

When you come home from a very long day and you just want to get the kids fed and in bed and the neighborhood girl knocks on your door. Way past playing time. I am grumping as husband opens the door. She needs a flashlight. So Scott goes and gets her one. I grump on. (see how well my mouth challenge is going???) To be fair, I must defend myself in my head. He doesn't get it. The kids set the center piece on fire at the baby shower today! Rachel spilled a whole cup of coffee, when I didn't even get one sip, all over the table, floor, and chairs at the baby shower! I am sick-again- in my stomach. The list went on and on. Then my husband comes in and says "you know, we might be the only Jesus she ever sees." On that note, it became different.

My attitude is so important because who knows who my life is affecting. I know it affects my family. It affects my classroom. My friends and other family. Even though sometimes I might not feel like being kind, I need to choose to be kind anyway. Loving when I don't feel like loving. Even though I may have a list of good reasons not to be, like my little Rachel "They just won't stop being annoying"- her brothers.

Sometimes we don't know what list the other person is carrying. We don't know what is challenging their faith today. When we seem the most "annoying" that is when we need others kindness the most. I need to practice being kind. Loving even more when I don't feel like it.

Listening

Scott doesn't really work a lot of nights. He works 7 out of every 28 days. Unless he does overtime. Which seems to always be night shifts....

But we sure do miss him when he is gone. I have been having stomach trouble....again. Of course tonight was a bad night. Scott is home. He got their drinks and is now reading their Bible Story with them. He leads them in the "thank-you God for _____" prayer. He tucks them in.

Certain things you don't think of when you are 17 years old and dating a cute boy. Good thing God thinks of them!

self reflection

"It is never to late to become the person you might have been." - George Elliot

I took a class this summer called "Motivat*ing Students to Re*ad." One of the themes throughout the online 3 credit death trap aka interesting lecture was self reflection. The class opened and closed and did about 10 self reflectiong papers throughout. I was all self reflected out. I was about sick of looking at me thank-you very much!

But you never can underestimate the power of a mirror. At the end of the school year, a friend and I had a great conversation. We are both working mothers of young children with husbands and a host of other responsibilities. We were talking about everything that always needs done and the conversation slid to our faith. We are both Christians and we talked about how of the thing that should be first and foremost in our lives is so easily pushed aside. And that is just not right.

This summer I have been doing a lot of thinking...pondering...reading tons of books...and doing some self reflecting. I have seen that, man I need a lot of help! But where oh where to begin. So I prayed about it and I am starting with my mouth.

This is an area where I struggle. I am a pessimist. If something is going to go wrong, I think it will. I also tend to be loud when I am "asking" for everyone else to knock it off. It can get pretty crazy here at times to say the least. I have decided to check my speech. I will ask "do I have to say this?" If the answer is yes, then what is the best way to say it and where. The plan is to try and cut my speech in half (or at least tame it a bit) and make sure what I am saying needs to be said! For, example, calling Scott at work to tell him he forgot to take out the garbage and I had to do it...blah blah blah..is probably not necessary at that point and time.

"The tonuge also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and itselfset on fire by hell." James 3:6

"But the things that proceed out of the mouth some from the heart and those defile the man." Matt 15:18

This does not mean that I am going to succeed all the time. Heck, sometimes i have been awake for 10 minutes and need a do-over! I lose it too. But then I need to remember my plan and why I am doing this. I want to be a representation of Christ to my family. I can't so that if my mouth keeps on running ahead of me. I need to close my mouth.

To make things simple, I have also decided that at times I just need to be silent. When I am tired/stressed/overwhelmed (uh-oh I may never speak again), I just need to stop and listen. Which has stressed out my husband. He wants to know "what is wrong with you? are you ignoring me? Did I do something? Are you mad?" No, I am just self reflecting...although I don't think that will do much to clear up the confusion for him.....

Canada?

As I am climbing in Will's bed for him to fall asleep....

Me- "Will, we are going to memorize a new scripture. It is Pappy Demi's favorite."
Will-" What is it?"
Me- "Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. I as in William Demi can do all things like go to bed by myself or be nice to my brother through Him which is Jesus who gives you the strength."
BIG PAUSE
Will- "All sure is a lot of things. You mean I could even drive to Canada?"
Me- "Go to sleep William."

The bug zapper

I have class every Thursday night. It is a night class. From 5:30-9:15...every Thursday. Last Thursday Scott was at work so my mother offered to keep the kids so I could learn about Language Acquisition. Fun.

It was late. I still had to get the kids in bed. I jumped out of the van, headed for the door with a mind whirling of the lists of things going on in my head.

Just a side note, but my husband was listening to a book on tape. The book was called For Men Only. It tried to unravel the female mind....good one. One day he told me that the book likes to compare the female mind to a computer. We have many many windows open at once. And although we might not be "working" on that screen, it is still open. Still processing. A woman can have many many windows open at the same time. My husband asked "is that true?" "Absolutely."

Back to Thursday night. As I am walking past my mother's porch I was jolted by a loud very surprising noise. It was a bug zapper plugged in on her porch. For anyone who doesn't know, a bug zapper is a light with a cage around it. Bugs draw to light. Bugs run into light. Zap. Bug dead.

I looked at the bug zapper and smiled. When we first moved into the home my mom lives in now, I was under 10. One of our favorite summer activities was to watch the bug zapper. My dad had hooked up the bug zapper to the clothes line. He had his lawn chair down there and when the sunlight faded, the bug zapper got turned on. We would run around catching fireflies or try to climb on my dad's chair. Yell and scream. And of course cheer when the bug zapper "got one." An extra bonus if the bug zapper got a big one and the "zap" held for a couple of seconds.

On my mom's porch, now almost 20-25 years later, it is nice to look back and remember those times. Playing in the backyard. Not even knowing what memories we were making. Don't know if my brother was thinking about those summers when he hung it up. Thinking about my dad yelling at us to settle down and watch the bug zapper! Funny things that take you back.

It was nice to stop and remember.

names

I was sitting at my mom's kitchen table yesterday and saw a card my Aunt had sent her. It was a card with her name on it and the meaning of her name. Then it had a prayer for her. I love these little cards. I always look for my name, my husbands names, my kids name on them. Seeing if they spelled Theresa properly with the "a." Rachel without the "a."

My mom has always hated her name. If she was a boy, her parents were going to name her "Carl" after the priest. But she was a girl. So they changed it and made her "Carla." Which I think is nice but she hates.

Of course I never liked my name. No one ever has my name. Which if you have a name that is very common you would think that is great. But I always felt odd. And of course every time anyone heard it they would say "like mother Theresa?" Or like "St. Theresa?" Actually I was named after my mother's cousin...who was names after St. Theresa.

Theresa actually means harvester. How pretty and feminine is that?? I always searched and search for a different meaning to my name. A different little card that would tell me that my name meant "amazingly talented" "sophisticated" "divine." But no. Theresa=Harvester. But when I became a Christian my name took on a new meaning
"He told them "The Harvest is plentiful , but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into His harvest field." Luke 10:2

When I was naming my children, as we all do, I put a lot of thought into it. After all...this was going to be their NAME! It was what people would think when they saw them. They would write it 5 billion times. The problem was...I didn't know who these little angels would become? Would they need a strong name? A lover of nature? A poet? An intellect?

We named our first born after a pirate. Now, Scott will tell you this is not true. If was after our grandfathers, but I think the fact that Will Turner was quite popular at the time had a lot to do with it. We had our William. My first born daughter was to have a different name right up until the end. Then my husband says..."I think I like Rachel." Rachel???? And so she was named, our "little lamb."

With my third child, I put my foot down. I get to name this one. Right from the ultra sound I called my little boy Lucas Scott. A strong name with a touch of his dad. When I found out my fourth child was a baby girl I pulled out the name I had saved in my heart for her, Isabella. My Bella.

Isn't it amazing that God knows our name? Not just that he knows our name like the IRS does, but truly it is written on the palm of his hand. With that name comes who we are. Not just what our name "means" but who we are. All of our parts. The triumphs as well as the failures. The good and the bad. Just as a parent looks at our child's heart so he looks at ours. He looks past what we want to give us what we need. He gathers us up to our heart.

It is nice when someone important knows your name. To hear it called from important people. They know MY name. To hear our name called from graduation podiums or awards cerimonies. But who better to know you that the creator of the universe? God knows my name. And he calls me. He knows me. He loves me.

"See I have written your name on the palm of my hands." Isaiah 49:16

7 more

I have 15 credits....cause I just turned in my 3 credit on-line course. Woo-hoo... of course I hope I passed the class. I will know in 8 weeks. ***8weeks***

I have to get to 24. I have 2 more classes worth one credit each to finish. I will have 7 more to get this school year to get my level 2 certification...My level 2.

closer.....

Funny Kids

Luke- "Mommy, can I have these cups?"
Me- "Luke, those cups are a lot of money."
Luke- "I checked. They are $3,000. I can get them" *tosses cups in cart
Me- "No...." taking cups out of cart
***********************************************************************

Rachel- "Did you see what the dog do to my shoes? He chewed them up. Let's get rid of the dog."
Will- "What is the big deal? Just buy some new shoes."
Rachel- "Those shoes matched my new shirt. You just can't buy shoes that match like that." sighs and stomps away
**********************************************************************
Me- "We need to clean up this house"
Will- "We need to just move."

burnt pancake

A long time ago, in a far away land lived a girl. A girl who loved the sunshine. A girl who loved to sit in the sunshine and read a book. Any kind of book really. She kept records of all of the books she read. She turned page after page in her notebook, filling the lines with stacks and stacks of books. Romance or mystery, fiction or non-fiction- it was all good.
That girl…was me. ;)

A while ago Scott and I were talking with a friend about what we liked to do for fun. Scott sat and named two handfuls of things off the top of his head. I sat there. Our friend asked me what I like to do for fun. Before I could part my lips, my darling husband answered for me. She doesn’t like to have fun. Although I am sure he might have gotten an elbow from me, he might be partly right. And partly wrong. It certainly isn’t that I don’t like to have fun. But I honestly couldn’t think of what I like! What a sorry thing that is. You know you have a problem when you can’t come up with a answer to that question.

I saw an interview years ago, where they were interviewing Teri Hatcher about her book- burnt toast. Interesting name for a book. It came from the fact that we, as mothers, always eat the burnt toast. If something gets burnt, we will not serve it. We eat it ourselves. Why not throw it away and start again? Not sure. But I can tell you I ate a burnt pancake on Saturday. AND when everyone was done, I ended up throwing away 2 good pancakes that didn’t get eaten.
I guess this all to say, I think we might be a tad bit hard on ourselves as mothers. And look out if you are a working mother. We have to be all things to all people. Self sacrifice, almost self torture- ok the pancake was not that bad. We feel guilty leaving the kids. We feel guilty if we pick up a book and the laundry isn’t done. We feel like a failure if we forgot milk. No wonder I can’t figure out what fun is.

I put some thought in what do I like? And I had to think back to the past. And I remembered reading. I used to love love love to read. Between wife, mommy to 4, full time teacher, housekeep and cook, I didn’t have time to pick up a book. If I did pick up the book, I have a list playing in the back of my mind about all of the things I could/should be doing.
I bought a book. A couple of books actually. I am reading them. It is my step in the direction of fun. Do I read every day? No. But I am getting better. I also remembered that I like going out to eat. Someone tell my husband…..

clutter

I hate clutter. A place for everything and everything in its place. I have always had a touch of OCD. Hard to imagine, eh?

However, with four kids, clutter seems unstoppable. Please, NEVER come to my house without an appointment. ;) I may seriously curl up and die. It isn't that I don't try. But before I can even get to the next room, the room I have just cleaned is again destroyed. The kids LOVE clean rooms. And soon it is not clean so much. But I have learned to deal with this. Kick it aside. Deal with it when you can. Beg people to call first.

But it is the mind clutter that is getting to me. I also have TMJ. Which of course is worse when under stress. I went to the dentist the other day. He heard my jaw clicking. Across the room. He then came closer and checked me out. His diagnosis. "Holy smokes! You need to get this taken care of." Apparently I need a plate for when I am sleeping cause I grind my teeth. And my jaw is way off. One is a 1 blah blah and the other is a 2 blah blah. No I don't know what the blah blah is. Which Scott was not happy about. He recommends braces. BRACES?? He said my jaw needs realigned and if I don't do it, I WILL need surgury. A surgury that doesn't always work.

I know I grind my teeth and set my jaw when I am stressed. Oh, but what is there to stress about you say? Well, the clutter. I always am thinking about the laundry and the dinner. The clothes needing switched around and such. The kitchen floor needs scrubbed. The bedrooms need done.

School is starting soon. Which means I am thinking about school shopping and getting my new room ready. Getting ready for my new grade. New everything. And I am taking many college grad credits. And not getting the work done. I also am trying to squeeze in every bit of fun with my kids before I return to work.

Plus, there are other lists. Other worries. I tell myself to let it go. But in my sleep, the grinding and jaw setting comes. Braces?

run......

I am not a runner. My most dreaded day in all of middle school was the mile run. Wow- what a horrible experience. Worst than the last slow dance in the middle school gym and finding yourself standing alone. Worse than the time I got hundred on my algebra final and the teacher had to point it out...to ...the ...whole....class.

The Mile. My gym teacher would line us all up. With her dreaded stop watch she would scream go. And we all went. Of course we all started by sprinting. This was middle school of course and the goal is to always stay with the crowd. Then we would have people (like me) slowly dropping out to walk. Feeling like your heart was about to be ripped from your chest and being absolutely certain you are going to die. When the "fast" girls would hit the finish line, my gym teacher called out their time. She also had a garbage bag positioned right by the finish line so the girls could puke. Seriously. Is it any wonder I was in the middle....at the end. And it was ever so embarrassing to have your TIME screamed into the field. Nice....I am sure that would not be allowed with today's privacy laws! ;)

I was so happy to get to high school where there was no mile. Oh wait. There was the cross country training. And swimming. Oh, co-ed swimming. shudder.....

I never liked running. Never. When I wanted to get in shape (AKA I had a baby) I joined Curves. I watched what I ate. I rode a bike. I went for 3 mile walks. I did not run. That, my friends, was akin to torture.

And one day I lost my mind. I thought, hey, maybe I should try running. Keep in mind, I had just had my 4th child and was in worse shape than my grandma. Although Grandma Yackuboskey is pretty tough..... I got to thinking about the heart disease that was raging in my family and frankly I don't want to die. Maybe I should try to get in shape? Be able to climb the stairs without getting winded? Actually lose the baby weight this time?

I got on a treadmill. Something was wrong. Oh yeah! I should probably wear shoes. So I put on my shoes. With socks even. And I ran. For about a minute. I felt the old "I think I am going to die." So I walked for a minute. I continued this for about 20 minutes. Got off soaked in sweat and prayed for the angels to come carry me away. The next day I hurt. But I got back on the treadmill.

I am taking a class on motivation. It is centering on reading, however I find it interesting that I can apply it to my running. Today I ran for 30 straight minutes outside and only had two mini stops. That is a great accomplishment for this non-runner. I was motivated by my desire to make a commitment and stick to it. By my desire to prove that I can do something I thought I never could. My desire to do it was bigger than the fear telling me I couldn't.

Did I think I could do it? Nope. Did I want to stop? You bet ya. My legs were screaming at me and my lungs.... But I thought to myself "you can do this. Just think about the end. Think about how proud you will be." Every time my legs were aching and I gave my self permission to stop, I couldn't. I knew I had to do it. I had to keep going. So I did. And I made it home.

Sometimes things in life seem so impossible. How will I ever..... But we do. We put on our running shoes and do it. Can we stop? Sure. Should we? Absolutely not. Because the pain we are feeling now will be nothing when we get to that final victory. That feeling of "I overcame that." We give up too easily. If something is hard we quit. I don't want to quit. I want to do it.

"In a race all the runners take part in it, but only one of them wins the prize. Run, then, in such a way as to win the prize. Every athlete in training submits to strict discipline; he does so in order to be crowned with a wreath that will not last; but we do it for one that will last forever." 1 corth 9:24-25

And while I am certainly no marathon runner, tonight I was a runner. With cute pink shoes and a new MP3 player!

My Lucas Scott

Happy 3rd birthday. A little late but hey....

My superhero! My future cage fighter! My sweet brown eyed boy.

You must excuse this blog being a day late. Yesterday I was scrubbing mascara off my boy, cleaning up jelly all over the couch, green tea all over the table (and under the table), smiley stickers on the walls, cabinets, and floor all before 10 a.m. All of this attributed to my baby boy.

My little boy is three. I remember the day he was born. The Dr holding him. His big brown eyes looking straight at me, the first and only child to have his daddy's eyes. I was thinking "wow, here he is." Why hadn't I thought that with the first two? Not sure? But I did with Luke. And wow has he been "here!"

We call him "curious" and "active." He is my "I will try anything" child. Like try to cross the road himself cause "I big mom." He can't sit for an entire meal without standing on his head or making up a musical tune on his plate. He is my "wanna fight?" boy. My ladies stopping us everywhere to comment on how cute he is.

But he is my "I wike (like) you mommy" with a hug. My give me a "huggie." He may be a rough and tumble kind of kid but always loves his momma.

My baby at one....

are you awake?

My first born angel has never been a sleeper. In fact I will call him the "anti-sleeper." When he was first born I tried everything. Bassinet, swing, cuddle-U, bed, floor. front, back, side. with milk, without milk. Everything. He never slept more than 20 minutes. My mom said "Theresa he is a baby. He has to sleep sometime." So she borrowed him. She brought him back. "Theresa! This baby never sleeps!" Exactly. At 2 months he will....4 months...HALF A YEAR. Nope.

And frankly he is 6 and still does not like to fall or stay asleep. He struggles. His newest obsession is that he hates to be the only one wake. If his sister falls asleep first, he wakes her up. nice. So it has come down to me coming to his bed and laying with him. And I wait for it......"Mommy, will you stay awake until I am asleep." "Yes, Will."

He asks the same question every night. Like, tonight may be different. I may change my mind. Sneak in a winker before him. But nope. Every night he asks and every night I tell him the same thing. I will stay awake until you are asleep. Sometimes that is enough. Sometimes he asks again. But I stay with him. Until his little body relaxes and he begins to breath deep. Then I can sneak out to my own bed.

I love to sleep. But when he first started this I was reminded of me decades ago. My own dad was a night owl. Mom always went to bed early, but my dad would be up into the night watching the news and then the nightly talk shows. I would fall asleep up stair listening to his TV. If I needed a drink I would be able to see by the glow of his TV. He would look over as I ran to the kitchen. I knew he was awake. So I could sleep. Did I fear someone breaking in or monster under the bed and think my dad being awake would send them running? Maybe..... But really it was the comfort of knowing that while I was resting, someone bigger than me was keeping watch. I felt safe.

Now, that I am the "someone bigger" I often fail big time in the fear department. Sure, I can protect my son from the boogieman (as long as he is pretend right? Cause that would really mess me up!) but am I big enough to protect him from illness? I can make sure he is fed and cared for, but what about his trials in life? Are my arms that big?

Since those nights many years ago, my dad now is watching over me from a new place. So who is up to chase away my boogieman? I have my own worries and woes which I am not big enough or strong enough to handle.

I will never leave you nor forsake you. Hebrews 13:5

It is nice to know that even when everyone in my house is asleep there is someone who is watching out for us. Someone who promised to look out for us. Someone who is bigger and stronger than me. And in knowing this I can rest.

In my own times of quiet desperation (and the not so quiet), I know that Christ has walked with me. He has held me up at funerals and in my bedroom. He has walked through the valley of hopelessness and heartfelt pain. Did he take away the pain. No. Did he take away the sting of rejection. Not at first. He walked it with me.

When I first became a Christian, I read a scripture that talked about God holding our right hands. Being 16, I made this my thing. When I felt alone I would reach out my right hand and squeeze. When I felt scared I would reach out my right hand and squeeze. I knew he was there. I wasn't alone. And that has made all the difference. Life is easier when you have a friend to hold your hand through it.

And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matt 18 :20

He is real!

I went out to the porch to get the mail and met the mailman on my doorstop. Of course following close behind were my two little shadows. That would be #2 and 3. Bella can't quite crawl fast enough and Will is engrossed with Scooby Doo on-line. They run out onto the porch (in underwear of course- too hot they say) and see me getting the mail. "Who is that?" Rachel asks as I walk into the house. "The mailman." Luke of course waves and says "good-bye mailman. Thanks!" Rachel comes running into the living room with Luke close behind.

"Will, the mailman does exist! We saw him!" "Yeah!" Luke chimes in. "Really? huh," and Will returns to game. Rachel turns to Luke "And did you see that he carries a big purse! cool."

So he does exist. And carries a purse.

yikes!

I did it. I didn't mean to do it. I looked and then the thought crossed my mind. And I said NO! But then it kept pulling at me. So I did it. I looked at the calendar. And counted how many weeks until I go back to work. And how many weeks until it is Will's first day of FIRST grade.

And then I took a big deep breath.

To be honest I LOVE my job. Seriously. I couldn't imagine ever doing anything else. But still I am OFF. And enjoying every minutes (well, most minutes!) with my family. We went to the beach and camping. But there is still some things I must get busy with. Busy busy on vacation!

1. MAYBE camping again. The kids loved it. We will see.

2. An amusement park if some kind

3. I WANT to go see the curve!!! This has been for the past 3 summers and I have never got there.

4. On a picnic

And to be honest I am not sure what else?? But I want the rest of the summer to be fun! And relaxing!

Just a side note- the other day school came up and I thought Will would flip. He was not a big fan of school last year. But he said "I cannot wait for school." Me- "Really?" Will- "Yeah, I miss the bus." Of course. The bus.

sleepy

Time just flies when you are having fun. From the beach to campin'. I want to post some fun camp pics but I am so very very tired. Scott is on night shift. Which means I don't sleep. So frustrating. The baby is taking a nap so I could lay on the couch with Luke, so some light reading, or work on my online class. Wonder which one I should choose?

Today is hubby's 30th birthday. He has to go into work...booo. I think I hear the couch calling....

The Beach!!

The beach!!! A great time had by all I think. Can I go back?????

Don, Patty, Christy, and Joe. So nice to have them all here.

Scott and Will on the boardwalk. Love the relationship these two have.

Grammy and Bella.

Something is funny.

My sisters and I.

Scott and I at putt-putt.

My Bella. Always so happy.

Getting ready for the wave!

My two little characters. ready for the beach!

Our view. God's goodness is new every morning.

Leavin'...........

in a packed truck. We are going to the beach, beach, beach. In a packed truck cause my van has no a/c and that just wouldn't be pretty. There is SO much I should be doing now. And I have zero motivation. I think I may make myself a cup of tea.

Here is to the sun, waves, and sand in my toes!

closer.....

4 more sleeps until the beach. I am not a good "under pressure." Ever. I like extra time. I like plans and lists. And I am behind. I also find myself becoming a tad bit cranky when I am stressed...for example...things that have irritated me the last couple of days...

1. Why do we not have cell phone service everywhere?? Seriously. I pay the phone company and insane amount of money and I should have service everywhere. In the middle of the woods, in my living room, on the moon!

2. Why are there so many "fees" on the phone bill, the com*cast bill....on many bills. You can charge anyone anything and say "fee!"

3. painting. We are painting the kitchen. I hate to paint.

4. losing things. All...the...time. My kindergartners used to love this one. OK, I lost my stapler guys. Who has seen it? Then we would all look until one yelled found it! But I lost my beach camping trip. The had everything on it. In specific lists. And broken down into what I needed to pack and buy. And I lost it....

5. junk- everywhere.

The list could go on and on. And I know I am complaining about silly stuff when I am on my way to the BEACH. But still. Some mornings are like that. And Rachel just came to tell me that Luke covered the table in jelly.

6. Jelly or children who paint in jelly

Goin' fishin'

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. ~Thornton Wilderon

Reality...

After that sweet little tribute yesterday, I really proved my point...in real life.

I am not a people person. I like people and all but I am...awkward socially. I don't "make friends easily." I think I am a good friend once I have met you and we talked and I feel comfortable around you. But thinking about walking into a room full of strangers about makes me pass out. One of the problems I have with dance. Lots of beautiful women that seem to all know what is going on. And I stand there with baby puke on my shoulder and paint (white house paint not THAT paint) grinded into my cuticles.

And this recital thing drives my stress through the roof. For example, yesterday I washed my hair. This is not a big deal for most people. Except did you read my last blog post? With my new hair cut, I have to wash, apply "sleek" junk, blow dry, and then straighten (sometimes apply more "sleek" stuff). With my towel on my head and checking my e mail- I remembered. I was given a paper balloon to decorate at the last rehearsal. Actually the conversation went something like this.

Beautiful woman I don't know- "What is your daughters name?"
Me- "Rachel"
BW- "I meant last name"
Me- "Oh sorry, Demi"
BW- hand me pink paper ballon with Rachel written on it "Just get it back to me next time." walking away....
Me- "um excuse me, what do I do with it?"
BW- "decorate it" walking away
Me- "how?"
BW- "with her picture, with anything. However you want it to look." walks away

Did I mention I am craft challenged too? Back to the towel. So with towel on head it hits me that I am to have this balloon done TONIGHT. Commence flip out mode. Get on Internet and send a picture to one hour walmart. Get all 4 kids dressed and ready and in the van to go to walmart. Thankfully mom and sister offer to come along. Go to walmart and pick up picture. Go to craft section for "dance" stickers. Find out walmart is getting rid of scrapbooking section. Have Rachel pick out some girl stickers. Even on clearance these stickers were crazy priced.

Go home and Rachel decorates balloon. I will have to take a picture of it and post it. Too cute. Good thing I have her. ;) So now my hair has dried and looks horrible. I clip it up (although not all of it cooperates). Add to stress. I grab all of Rachel's stuff and we take off. After dropping kids off at mom's I realize that I forgot the BALLOON at home. Now, we go home to find ballon ( and camera).

We are late. I go running in. They are getting people in the auditorium and I am trying to fix Rachel's hair. Hair tie broke. Later in the day, dance director reminds parents to "bobby pin" hair pieces in. bobby pins??? have to buy some of those. What section are they in?? So we run in the auditorium and I realize I did not scrub off her two tattoos on her arm. Big black ugly monster truck tattoos. I try to get them off with...tada...spit. Didn't work. We snuck out to the bathroom. It didn't work. I promised her I would get them off for the performance.

The night continued with me finding out tons of other stuff I didn't know. Like were were running the act TWICE. Rachel was bored out of her mind and rolling on the dirty floor.

When I finally hit the pillow last night, I thought, soccer would be so much easier.....
Tonight is the real deal....pray for me...for her....OY!

My Girl

I always knew I was going to have all boys. Could be because I was never a "girl" myself. I never teased my hair or tight rolled my jeans (Hey it was the 80's!). The one time I tried to dye my hair it went orange and I hid it under my baseball cap all summer. I was the girl who hung with the boys and felt more at home in a baseball diamond than the mall. I clipped my nails short as to get out the dirt. I knew I was never going to be the beauty queen and that was ok with me.

So when the ultrasound person told me that William was a boy, I was not shocked to say the least. And when I was pregnant with #2 I laughed when Scott said this one was a girl. I told him "I can't have a girl." Which medically speaking is crazy but to me it made sense. I would be a better mom to a boy. What did I know about bows and clips? When ultrasound person said "we have a little girl." I sat up and said "What? Are you sure? How sure?" She laughed and said about 99 percent. But things can hide." I left stunned but to be honest I was still thinking the baby was a boy. She could be wrong. When my church had a "pink" baby shower for me, I thought what am I going to do with all this when he is a boy. I actually looked at something purple and thought,"maybe he could wear that."

On December 14, 2005 the nurse handed me a perfectly pink little girl. And I just stared. Then I cried. And I said "Scott. She is a girl." What a girl she is. She is one of the reasons I know that God has a sense of humor. Because not only did he bless me with a girl, but he dropped the girliest of all girls in my lap. She believes her middle name is princess. Before she was 2 she painted her fingernails with markers. Right after she turned two, she got into a huge argument with me over which coat she would wear. She has told me "mom, that doesn't match." When we put on her lipstick for her dance recital I just hand her the tube. She took my mascara and applied it when she was 2 and didn't get a spot on her face.

On her first birthday, I took her to get her pictures taken. When my mom was looking at the pictures she said "Theresa, why didn't you put her in a dress?" I looked and said "it never even occurred to me." I did have a pink shirt on her!

This weekend is my baby girl's first dance recital. I say first because I am sure it will not be her last. I look at her in all her pink and lace. Her curls and her bright red lipstick and think about how she has blessed my life. My little girl who offers hugs and kisses with the occasional fashion advice. Sometimes in life God surprises you with just the thing you need. Something perfect.

This picture was taken this past mother's day. She picked out her own hair things and the necklace. She was not happy that I wasn't wearing pink. I tried to expain that black is slimming but she wouldn't buy it.....

new goal

I did it. I made it. I made my weight loss goal. It wasn't really my GOAL. It was the weight I am at before I have another baby. I always want to be this weight before having another one. Which I have done....except for that Luke.

But what do I do once I hit the goal? I made a new one. Move the ticker another 5 pounds. Cause really I think my GOAL is 10 more pounds. Although I won't really know until I get there. I do not expect to have abs of steel (or any abs for that matter) but I do want to feel like me again.

And I really want to start running again. Really I have gotten this far without a lot of exercise. And before you proclaim how lucky I am, trust me. You wouldn't want the stress and all of the sickness I have dealt with to get here. SO here is to another 5 pounds. My hope is to get there before school is out. We will see.

kisses and I love yous.

Will has always been an affectionate child. Right from the start he wouldn't sleep if you were not holding him. He always had to be holding your finger when he was in his car seat. He slept in between Scott and I for...years. He is a very loving and affectionate kid. Gets this from his dad.

Everyday when I drop Will off at his classroom I would bend over and he would kiss me goodbye. But one day he was struggling to get away. Figuring he was in a hurry to get to his friends and building blocks, I kissed the top of his head while he skidded away. After a couple days of this I started to get the picture. I asked Will if he didn't want me to kiss him in front of his class. He kind of nodded and said it is embarrassing. I said oh ok. And left. As my heart was breaking. I know he is growing up. His world is opening up.

Today I walked him into the school and bent down to kiss the top of his head. He dashed in and I turned around. Then I heard "Mommy." I turned around and there was Will running out of the room, hair flying and book bag flapping. He reached up to grab my shoulder, and I leaned my ear to him thinking he had a secret to tell me. He kissed me right on the lips and said I love you. And then ran back in. I was stunned.

After school I asked him why he did that. I thought that you were embarrassed I asked. No. Not anymore he told me. And I will take it. For however long it lasts. I will take it.

Home

Scott and I had a very small very apartment when we were first married. And I loved it. I am not sure why? The bathroom and bedroom were on opposite sides. Good thing the place was so small. It was a very long rectangle. The kitchen was so tiny there was hardly any room for the dishwasher. Scott nicknamed it the bat cave because the lightening was so bad. And did I mention the roof in the kitchen leaked and eventually collapsed. Twice.

But when we moved I cried and cried. I felt like it was home. Scott tried to convince me that we were moving to a better place but I never bought it. Our next apartment was awful and we lived there only for a few short months. Let's just say the dirty gross hallway and the neighbors left much to be desired.

So we moved into an apartment in Bakerton, my hometown and I loved it. I felt home. Perhaps that is why I was pregnant with my 3rd child before I thought we may have to move. It was a 2 bedroom place, but it was home. I remember laying on the carpet in the kitchen. I loved getting the 2nd bedroom ready for Will and then Rachel. Not that they ever slept in there.

I hated looking for a house. Hated it. Everything was awful. We found this place. Scott liked it. I did not. But we were running out of time and options. It was big like we needed. So we moved. And I have never felt like this was home.

Our realtor comes tomorrow for us to put this house on the market. We have had two house meetings for building. I am so scared. I hate change. But I can't help but think this would be going home. I would find a place of peace. I am praying that God would open doors or close them. That we would be at peace with this decision.

All dressed and still can't make it

This is the third time this week where I have put on my work out clothes and have not gotten to work out. I am really really trying to get healthy. Although the bonus of losing weight is great too, I want to be "healthy." My goal was to start to become a runner. And I was really enjoying it- back when I got to run.

Because of Scott's schedule I can only go when he is home. Well, I used to be able to run on my treadmill too-until it died on me. That was one of the days I was dressed. And let's face it, a lot of times getting dressed and ready is half the battle. Once you start you just do it.

Then today I was going to try and go before Scott went to work. But I have a killer headache. When he laid down to take a quick nap I thought I would close my eyes for just 5 minutes and then go. I opened my eyes 20 min later and it was too late to go. Not to mention my head was killing me anyway.

Not such a great start to the week. And since this is "double dance" week, I have to take Rachel Tuesday and Wednesday. So I don't know when I am going to fit it into my schedule. It is hard to become a runner when you never have time to run.

Light

I was afraid of the dark when I was a kid. Very afraid. Isn't it funny that most kids are? What is it about the dark that frightens us to the core?

I remember we had a nightlight in our bedroom. Our, meaning me and my two brothers. My brother swore he could not sleep with the light on. I was near hysterics when the light was off. So my darling little brother would wait until I was asleep and then shut off the light. I would wake up to the dark. I couldn't breath. i couldn't move. I would drag myself up and flip on the light. Always making sure my feet did not touch the floor. I had under the bed issues to as a kid. I could fall asleep with the light on. Until little bro got up....again.

I remember reading a devotional as a teenager about light and darkness. It said that screaming and raging at the darkness will do no good. Slashing at it and fighting it will bring no relief. Now, quiet yourself and light a candle. Watch how the darkness flees.

Jesus is said to be the light of the world. The light that shines through our darkness. With Him, our true light, their is no fear. He dispels the dark. HE scatterers it. It has no power where he dwells.

That is what I want. A candle. A shower of light to dispel the dark. My Jesus. My candle.

thinking...

It has been a while I see. Almost 3 weeks. My, my.

I have been quite the complainer as of late. And I am not saying I don't have my own struggles. But seriously...

A teacher friend got some bad news about her cancer. I sat and my heart broke. For her. For her family. Then others began to tell stories about lives cut to short. I run into children here and there with stories that would surprise any adult. I see families falling apart. I don't have it too bad at all.

Then I was talking to one of my closest friends at school. Amazing wife, mother, and teacher. We were talking about our faith. And how as working wives and moms, how stretched thin we feel. And unfortunately, it can be our Faith that often get pushed aside. After all, Jesus isn't waking us up in the middle of the night demanding our attention. He isn't asking for weeks of plans and creative centers. He just waits.

I love talking to this friend because she gets it. We talked about what is really important. Would people know we are Christians. I mean really bible believing followers of Christ? I would hope so. But I don't know.

I have made it a point to get back on the bandwagon. Every night I have been reading my bible and praying. Asking God to show me this day what I can do. What I can do for my family. What I can do with the kids in my class. I do not believe it is some accident that these children are in my care. What is it they need from me?

I asked God to open my eyes. Point them in the direction of my blessings and not in my shortcomings.

poked

I took Bella for her 6 month shots today. She didn't get poked because she has a sinus infection but I did! I had to get some more blood work done. Now here I am with a mountain of laundry. I SHOULD get caught up on that. But to be honest there is always tomorrow. I am getting the children dressed and we are going to the park.

I went running (ok walk/jogging) yesterday. My sister says jogging is actaully an addictive behavior. Seriously? People like to feel like this? But if I am nothing I am stubborn. Ask my husband. He will tell you ALL about it. So I going to continue. I want to be good at it. Well not like run a marathon good but not want to die. That being said I want to go again today.

Off to enjoy the sun...

Not for the squimish

The other night when Scott was on night shift Will was eating grapes with me. After he ate almost half a bag I told him he had to be done. He of course asked why and I said because you will get diarrhea if you eat too much fruit. To which he answered "You mean the one you write in?"

After wrapping my mind around that idea I asked "what the heck are you talking about? You don't write in diarrhea!" He answered "Yes you do. You write down all the things that happen to you." It took me a moment and then I said "oh you mean diary, not diarrhea!" "That is what I said." It all makes sense now.

************************************************************************

In the car, a favorite game we like to play is eye spy with my little eye. Rachels turn and she says "I spy with my princess eye...." Now, I have said that at some point we may have to tell her that she really isn't royaliy to which her pappy Demi replied "Rachel you will always be royality to pappy." Which is so sweet....unless you live with her... ;)

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Luke is now fully potty trained. Except for nights. But I said Luke "great job of peeing in the potty." He said "Now I get a car?" I was taken aback by my 2 year olds request until I figured out he meant a race car BED.

*********************************************************************

I saw Bella looking at something in her little hand while she was semi-crawling on the floor. I said Bella what do you have. She opened her hand. I kid you not. She had a pair of polly pocket shoes in her hand. What is it with my girls and shoes?

The answer

I work full time. Well, months September through May anywayz. And I love my job. Really I feel like teaching is a calling. Another topic all together but for now, I will talk about our lunch room conversation.

I work with a bunch of phemominal ladies. Women who are above and beyond teachers, wives, and moms. But I think I am the only mom of 4. Certainly the only mom of 6, 4, 2, and 6 months. A very good friend of mine was talking about an evening with her daughter. Then she turned to me and said "how do you do it with all of them." I laughed and said I don't sit. I talked about my evening the night before. Getting home and making dinner. Homework, bathtime, cereal for the baby. Reading the kids Bible (cause Will says "when he learns about Jesus it makes him not scared at night") and the list goes on.

After a bite of sandwich I realized that might have come out wrong. So I re-answered. Everything I do isn't a chore. It isn't like I look at this list and thing "oh no." Our dinner times can be hilarious with Scott and little Scott (Will). We play in the bathtub and talk while reading books. We laugh and play and live. I love my life. I would never want it any other way. When was the last time I slept through the night? I have no idea. Is my "to do" list sometimes more daunting than the national debt? At times. But by family is the most amazing gift ever given to me. It is a joy not "job."

Is it a lot of work? Absolutely. Do I juggle, juggle, and juggle some more. Sure. But I made what I think was the best choice for my family. We are happy. We are healthy.

Ok and I am tired... ;)

I said it

Today was a beautiful day. And because my son's teacher said he should go outside and play (even though his mother has always begged him to go outside) he decided that he HAD to go out. Which was fine and we all went down to the park. Will joined a bunch of kids and was soon playing freeze tag. I rocked Bella and she was asleep. Luke and Rachel were all over the place. It started to get cold and I told Will that he had to put on his coat. He told me "but mom the other kids don't have to wear a coat." I replied "well, I am not their mother. I am yours." I said it.

Tomorrow I am getting out the other 2 of my wisdom teeth. Prayers are appreciated.

bigger

Today was a big day. I was on the phone with my mom. Looked over to see my daughter, the tiny one, with a magazine in her mouth. I had to run over and scoop bit and wads of paper out of her mouth. Nice. She is mobile. Not really crawling but rolling and scooting and getting to where she wants to be. Already. Although I was telling someone how old she was and I said 5 months. Then when I realized the date and she will be 6 months in less than a week!!! What?? I know, I know it flies but holy smokes!

And William just had his 6th birthday party. Rachel is drawing really good pictures and preparing for her first dance recital. And Luke only wears diapers to bed. My babies are getting bigger.

Once upon a time....

Will- "Rachel do you want to hear a story?"
Rachel- "Sure"
Will- "Once upon a time there was a princess locked in a huge tower. So she sent her boyfriend the prince a text message. Then he could find her. The end."

when momma's sick

Oh...my...goodness

Luke was the first to puke. Then Thursday when I called after work, Scott said Rachel were throwing up. Then William. That night poor little Bella was throwing up. So I slept in Will and Rachel's room with Bella beside me. Will puked all night long, and Bella twice. Around 4 a.m. I knew it was coming. I...got....sick.

Horrible, terrible. Pain in the stomach and back. Throwing up. Thank goodness Scott was off. Then of course, Scott got it. So we have been quite the sight over the last couple of days. So today when I woke up out of my sick induced haze- wow! Dishes are overflowing, clothes are littering the floor, Bella has 3 diapers left, no chocolate milk powder (gasp), and we are down to 1 gallon of milk. Plus, William needs his birthday treat for tomorrow in school and I have to fill out his invitations for his party next weekend. Don't even get me started on that cleaning extravaganza!

Today is a busy day. If I can only find the floor!

Happy Birthday Will!!!

My baby. The one who changed my life. How can you be 6? Two hands as we like to say now. I couldn't be more proud to be your mommy. You are so sweet and polite. Such a kind soul. Your laugh brightens any day. I remember those sleepless nights in the beginning. I begged for sleep and thought it would never be over. And here we are. Kindergarten, reading, sleeping on your own, and saying "that is ok mommy, I'll do it myself." My little man. I love you the mostest.

what a night- take 2

Bella fell asleep! Excellent. So I laid down. I was awakened by the voice of my sweet 2 year old. Actually he was screaming like his bed was on fire. I got up and went to get him. I opened the door and flipped on his light. Puke...everywhere. From the hours of 1- about 3:30 and a little bit again after 5 for fun, I was holding a sick child and then cleaning up puke. And then got up for work. Call off you say? Scott was home. So I went. After I dropped a gallon of milk on the floor that slipped out of my mostly asleep hand.

No worries. I stopped at Sheetz and got the breakfast of champions. Coffee! And then I came home to Scott having made dinner. And now I am going to bed super early. Weigh in tomorrow. Will I make the 10 pound mark??

P.S.- Rachel feels hot and Will don't look too hot. Yikes. Thank- God Scott is home.

What a night!

Last night I was tired. Really tired. But little Bella wasn't. Not at all. She cried and fussed so of course I called my mommy. She suggested holding her tight and singing to her. So I sang. And sang. Nothing. Still cried and cried. Finally she fell asleep and I collapsed into bed. Since Scott is of course on night shift, Rachel and Will slept with me. I woke up at 1:45 A.M. and saw Rachel sitting on the edge of the bed. She was sitting up but was still sleeping. So I said for Rachel to come here. She did. She jumped on me. And she was soaked. Apparently the second time she EVER wets the bed has to be in my bed.....when Scott has night shift....and Mommy has been sick. So I have to strip everything off her and the bed. And fix the bed. We go back to bed. Then at 4:45 I hear another voice calling my name. Luke. He needed to pee. I go up and he went. Then he asked to sleep in my bed. Fine. Whatever. So he came in with US and didn't go back to sleep. So when Scott called in the morning to ask how I was, my response was ...let us say less than favorable.

I had a full day of work and had to get Rachel to dance. I stopped at the store to pick up some groceries that were on sale. As I carried the bags into my kitchen I about fell over. Scott had cleaned up the whole kitchen. He cleaned up breakfast and the table was wiped clean. He loaded the dishes and cleaned up the trash. He had the night cups sitting on the counter for me and left me a note saying that he hoped I had a better night. I seriously teared up! So I went upstairs to bring down the pee mess I had left and I COULDN'T FIND IT. He had carried everything down for me.

Forget the roses. The diamonds. The candlelit dinners. This my friends, young and old, is romance at its best. Cleaning up the peed bed and loading the nasty milk cups.

My buddy Max

"Faith is not the belief that God will do what you want. It is the belief that God will do what is right."- Max

"He saw you cast into a river of life you didn't request. He saw you betrayed by those you love. He saw you with a body that gets sick and a heart that grows weak. He saw you in your own garden of gnarled trees and sleeping friends. He saw you staring into the pit of your own failures and the mouth of your own grave. He saw you in your own garden of Gethsemane and he didn't want you to be alone ... He would rather go to hell for you than to heaven without you." Max

When I lived in South Carolina, my sister in law and I would listen to the christian radio station on the way to and from work. One of the speakers that would pop up would be Charles Stan*ley. Jenn would say "my friend chuck says...." We laughed cause no we didn't know chuck (Mr. Stanley) but when we heard him talk it was like we were friends. In our crazy mixed up mind. I thought of this when my mom brought up an author she was reading...my buddy Max.

I love love love Max Lucado. Just a side note- in school every time I say this (love love love) my kiddos say "as much as you love books Mrs. Demi?" Cause I told them how much I LOVE books. No matter what I say "of course not! I love books the mostest." But I get a two for one here. My Max WRITES books. So I win.

My Christian book I read was written by my Max. When God Whispers Your Name. I still love that title. What I love about my Max is that he takes things that others make so difficult and puts it into words we get and understand. He helps us to see Jesus as loving us. He pulls away all teh red tape and simply says come to me. I like that.

I like simple.

.2

That is how close (far) I am away from a 10 pound weight loss. I should be happy. But I have not worked out all week (cause I can't breath still!) and I think about what I might have lost. And I guess I am just frustrated cause I see the goal on top (still 7.4 away), my starting point. That is where I was when I got pregnant with Rachel and Bella. I don't want to be there. I wasn't happy there. But I guess I could be 10 (9.8) pounds heavier. And I plan to keep going. As soon as I can breath.

Happy Birthday Dad

I miss you

I stayed home

I go to work. All- the-time. So when my husband called on his way home from night shift on Friday morning and I told him I called off, he asked if I needed to go to the hospital. And I considered it. Thursday night I went to bed not feeling good. Then came the night of hell. I couldn't breath, I couldn't stand, I couldn't roll over. Thank-you sweet heaven that my mom had spent the night. Cause the next day, I just kept trying to sleep to escape the pain and the sick. I called the doctor and she said he wasn't in today. She must have heard the despair/death in my voice cause she said she would try to find him and get him to call something in. I had class today. And my chest burned and I was so tired, but I am cheap and I wasn't wasting 115 dollars. So I went.

In other news, Bella is rolling all over the place. She has also fallen to the bronchitis bug, and is now on her first anti-biotic. Will had to miss school on Friday cause I couldn't walk to the bathroom for crying out loud, forget getting him to the bus stop. Is "mom was dying" a valid school excuse? It hasn't snowed in 24 hours (knock on all the wood I can find).

Now I must go and sleep...oh wait...Scott is on night shift.. :(

Did you know... (with update)

that is a lot of infection in there? says my oral surgeon. I figured. Saturday morning I paid him a visit. I had my two left wisdom teeth taken out about a year and a half a go. At the time I asked if I should get them all out. "not necessary" I heard from the good doctor. About a month ago my right side of my neck began to swell bad. But I had no cold symptoms. Then my ear started to hurt. In my "nodes" there was "a lot of infection" from my wisdom teeth. "Why didn't we take these out last time?" the Dr asked me. I just shrugged. He also said you have flat teeth. Do you know you are grinding your teeth. Yep. And your TMJ is clicking really bad. I bet you have some joint damage. I bet that is causing you more problems that these wisdom teeth. So good news from the oral surgeon. I am scheduled to get them out in March.

And today I am taking all 4 kids to the Dr. Since I am off I figured why not? ;) But the coughing and snot is getting bad. At least Scott is home so we can ALL go together. And then Scott and I have eye appointments that were suppose to be done in November! That is what we do on our days off around here. Fit in appointments.

Since I am on 2000 mg of Pen. for my "lots of infection" I have not been feeling good. So I skipped my running for three days. I have decided to start back today. I may make it. I may not. Time to find out!

UPDATE** 4 out of the 6 of us are on antibiotics. Baby and Scott are still holding on. And we are expecting to get dumped on again by the snow. I am hoping for delay or cancel. I just don't want to drive on these roads again. So tired of it!

childhood

Childhood is a magical place. And when you spend that childhood with one wonderful friend, it makes it all the more full of joy. I had quite the best friend growing up. She was the one who I went puddle jumping with. The one I built castles in the sky with- ok it was a two story tree house but to us it was a castle. We learned how to ride bikes together and reinvented "glue" as mad scientists. As we got older our friendship changed. She was the one I called and cried with. We ate cheese cake until we thought we might puke. We laughed over our "horrible" childhood pictures.

As we got older, we went to different schools. Lost contact. Then we ran into each other again. And picked up where we left off. Telling stories of our unforgettable hometown and the people we loved there. And today she became a mom. A beautiful, strong, amazing mom.

I know that she will be the best mom. A loving mom. A mom dedicated to her kid (s) the same way she is dedicated to everyone she loves. I am so happy and proud of her. And I look at pictures of this new little treasure laying on his mommy's chest and think "how does my mud pie buddy have a baby?" And then I realize that I guess we aren't in Kansas anymore. We are mommies. We are grown ups.

To Joel. To his childhood. And may he find a friendship as wonderful and faithful as I have found in his mommy.