Taking on Titles

From before we are even born we seem to start collecting titles – daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece. They accumulate without us even realizing it and as we age we seem to just keep on accruing them.

Some come and go with the passing of time – teenager left me over a decade ago – and some, such as sister-in-law, have been marked with great fanfare and celebration and become permanent additions to the list.

While many of these titles are given without entitlement, a few, such as friend, are earned in time, in smiles, in tears.

There are also a few we work very hard for – student, graduate, alumnus – and, at least while they are shiny and new, are a source of pride and accomplishment.

And then there are the titles for which there is hardly a comparison, the simple sound of which induces pride, belonging, love – wife, mommy.

Last week I took on a new title - as in employee, or more accurately, Human Resource Project Manager. Another title to add to the pack and one I approach hesitantly, with cautious optimism.

For almost 5 years now I have championed the job of stay-at-home mom, one solely devoted to the proper care and feeding of the little people God has so richly blessed me with. While I was never the girl who dreamed of being a stay at home mom, I have taken on the task full heartedly and every day – okay, almost everyday – counted it as a divine blessing to have such an opportunity.

As I see Tyler quickly approaching his 5th birthday I have watched my term as a stay-at-homer, which originally felt like a life sentence, more accurately as stage of life – a phase that fades away seemingly as quickly as it came.

The greatest part of this newest title and opportunity is that it does not necessarily negate any of the prior titles. I have agreed to work a whopping 10 hours a week – at least half of which will be from home. On one hand, I cannot stop thanking God for this fabulous opportunity – to have such a great work schedule, to be employed by fabulous people, to utilize the degree I worked so hard for, to have a hugely supportive husband who will make adjustments to his schedule in order to accommodate mine, to be compensated competitively, to set in motion the groundwork for a rewarding career after my little ones aren’t so little anymore.

But on the other hand, I would be kidding myself if I thought that the energy expended outside my home and family would go unnoticed. There is a limited supply and it has to come from somewhere.

I will be the first to admit that I am an excitable girl. I like to dive in headfirst and jump on bandwagons and rally the troops. But the truth is, while I do see the new title as God’s leading in my life, I am trying my very best to stay grounded, never forgetting where my true priorities lie. Because, at the end of the day, it will always be the titles of mommy and wife that matter to me most.

You're Welcome Future Mrs. Westenberg, You're Welcome

The steam is building, I can feel it. Christmas is coming. Coming in the ads in the Sunday paper, coming in the catalogues delivered by the mail lady, coming in the Christmas songs that my kids and I can be seen dancing around the house to more often than I am ready to admit. It’s true. Around here, we…love…Christmas!

We love that it’s Jesus’ birthday and we love Christmas trees. We love snowflakes and snowmen and we love Christmas cookies. We love advent calendars and we love family traditions. We love our new nativity and we love stockings. Oh, and do we ever love ornaments – lots and lots of ornaments and lights and ribbon and wreaths and candles and Christmas stories and Christmas movies and gingerbread houses. Oh yes, we. love. Christmas.

But with all of the splendor of Christmas – not to mention my own childlike excitement – it’s important to me to reign in it just a bit for my kids, particularly Tyler since he is at a ripe age to hop on the runaway train of materialistic, greedy, Christmas consumerism. While I want him to experience all the joy and tradition that makes Christmas so wonderful, it is my priority to make sure that he is not so distracted by all of the glorious trimming and trappings of the holiday that he confuses, or even misses, the reason we celebrate.

He has heard the Christmas story – the story of Jesus’ birth – in board books, in Sunday School lessons, straight from the Bible and from various other sources for several years now and he can relay it back to us quite well. But this year, as the Christmas steam is building, I wanted to work more on the concept of giving rather than receiving.

With the gradual increase in toy ads, commercials and catalogues that have been floating around our home the list of “I wants” has been accumulating just as quickly. Imagine my delight yesterday when, after listing a few more “I wants” Tyler stopped and thoughtfully asked, “mommy, what could I get you for Christmas this year?” Sweet child, now we’re talking!

Wanting him to think a little harder I asked him if he could think of a nice gift for mommy. Immediately he spouted out “Mommy, I’ll get you a camera!” While that was a thoughtful idea, I reminded him that was what he and Daddy and Bailey got me for my birthday. After a longer pause, the churning in his mind evident on his face, his eyes sparkled with pride and he proclaimed, “mommy, I know the perfect present for you.” I waited anxiously, quite interested in what my little boy would think the perfect gift for his mother. It was then that he exclaimed, “a brand, new vacuum cleaner!”

Oh, the horror! While I was busy worrying about consumerism and materialism and other isms, my dear son was busy thinking that a home appliance was a suitable – no, perfect – gift for a woman you love. Wow, time to re-focus. For the sake of his future wife, I must eradicate such thinking immediately. Well…unless, of course, he was thinking of a Dyson…I may very well be able to appreciate the gift of a Dyson.

Steal of a Deal - Round 1

In light of my newest addiction - coupons - I thought I would share my favorite "steal of a deal" for the week.



I just got the Fiesta Foods ad in my newspaper this morning and there is a bright and shiny (well as bright and shiny as newsprint can be anyway) coupon for toilet paper - 24 rolls (or 12 jumbo rolls) of Angel Soft for $2.99 to be exact. When I was at Wal-Mart this morning to pick up a few items I chose not to buy on my Tri-Cities run yesterday, I noticed that 24 rolls of Angel Soft is $6.52 there. That's a savings of $3.53 per package right out of the chute. But wait it gets better...



If you skip on over to Angelsoft.com they have a coupon for $.50 off any pack of TP 6 rolls or larger. So, if you print that coupon (print it 4 times, I'll explain later) we are down another $.50 per pack.



Next, grab 2 packages of toilet paper at Wal-Mart (that's the ad limit), show them the Fiesta Foods ad and hand them 2 printed coupons. The best part is THEY DON"T TAKE YOUR FIESTA FOODS AD!!! Then run over to Fiesta Foods and hand them their in ad coupon, plus two more you printed online and BOOM you just saved yourself $16.12...on toilet paper of all things...the stuff you use regularly and were going to have to buy anway..forever! Isn't this fun?



Now if you want to have a little more fun, while you're at it take advantage of the killer Yoplait sale that Fiesta Foods has as well. First, print out 2 - $.50 off 6 coupons at coupons.com. Then pick out 6 yogurts, show the ad and give them a coupon at Wal-Mart which saves you $2.66. Head over to Fiesta grab 6 yogurts and give them your other coupon and save $2.66 all over again.



Wow, look at that, with just a little extra planning and one extra stop you got yourself a couple months supply of toilet paper, a dozen yogurts and you saved $21.44 off Wal-Mart prices!!! I don't know exactly how many Pumpkin Lattes that will buy me at Starbucks....but I may just find out! :)

A new challenge

So for me, it’s kind of been about climbing mountains lately. After weeks of preparing for the half-marathon, I climbed that mountain and then after weeks of preparing to speak at the women’s retreat, I climbed that mountain the following week. Feeling slightly taxed from the nerves and time and endurance not to mention the physical and mental and spiritual commitment necessary to complete these tasks I purposely decided I was going to sit this week out. I wasn’t going to run – much. I wasn’t going to study the Bible – much. I fully intended to waste nap times and early bedtimes reading a cheap novel and eating ice cream. Now isn’t that a goal to be proud of? Not so much, but I may as well be honest.

While I have enjoyed the more relaxed pace of this week I also know that I am genetically wired to love a good challenge. I get bored with the seemingly mundane tasks of life pretty quickly if I don’t have an underlying project or goal to plan or work on. And really, who doesn’t like having something to be excited about, right? So, let me introduce you to my newest challenge……drum roll please…….coupons!

Yup, that’s it coupons! Fun, fun, fun! For the first time in our married lives Ross and I have decided to set up a budget. And, thankfully, since we both have always viewed money pretty similarly that doesn’t mean too many changes to our spending habits but I have noticed one huge area that I could rein in – groceries. I am too embarrassed to even state the sum we arrived at when adding up last month’s debits for groceries, but the bright side – very, very bright side – is that anything I do to cut corners this month is going to look just wonderful! Yea for that!

So besides a small trip to Wal-mart last week today was my first-ever serious coupon clipping day. Look what I got for less than $39! Total savings $85.36!!! And I even missed $3 in coupons that I could have used.



So far I am just loving this challenge! I have a long way to go to catch up with my coupon hero over at fistfulofcoupons.com but it’s a new way of thinking for me. It takes a little more planning and I am still feeling the learning curve but saving that much money is plain fun too me. I just can’t wait until next week so I can do it again!

The Running Bug

So this is the weekend I have been waiting for. Well, one of them anyway. As of tomorrow, the training will be done. 14 weeks gone; 13.1 miles ahead. That’s right, this weekend I will enter my first ever half-marathon. What, you didn’t know I was a runner? Well, that’s because I wasn’t and I’m not and I may never be, naturally, but I am always a girl who loves a good challenge and this time, the challenge comes in the form of a 13.1 mile run.

While in retrospect it’s easy to get romantic and sentimental about the training process, the truth is that it’s tough. It’s aches and pains, loss of sleep and time away from the family. Physically, it is one of the tougher things I have ever done but, at the same time, it’s been one of the most rewarding. Rewarding when I look in the mirror, rewarding when I add up the miles, rewarding when I realize it’s almost over. Hallelujah for that!

I think the most amazing part of this whole adventure though has been realizing that, little by little, it is possible to do things that you thought were totally out of your league. And in the end, it may not even be nearly as difficult as you imagined. I am now fully convinced that anyone who is physically able (and by that I do not even mean in good shape – just able) can run a half-marathon. Seriously. This coming from the girl who a few short months ago thought 2 mile jogs would be her lifetime capacity. Funny what a couple months of running can do to you.

What’s more? It’s contagious. My mother-in-law started it and I got a couple of friends to jump on board with me. Slowly but surely another one came along and after a little more prodding I have even got my own hubby out there pounding the pavement. Why? Because it’s fun, it’s free, it’s good for you and, well, it’s contagious. Just beware…the bug may be headed your way next!

Anyone got some Elmer's?

So out of the dust and ashes I took time to throw together a post today and wouldn't you know that Blogger isn't letting me use the paste function? What's up with that? I can copy from Word but I can't paste. Ugh! If anyone has an idea...or some glue...let me know. :)

Growing Pains

I’ve known for some time that it was going to happen, years actually, but none of that seems to matter now. It’s not like it snuck up on me or surprised me or came without warning, it came every bit as expected yet nothing like I expected at the very same time.

It’s been brewing for awhile now, I guess. The little boy who was all mine, who was, just a few short years ago, a baby who wanted nothing but mommy, the toddler whose owies, whose fears, whose needs, who demands all warranted instinctive cries for mommy is now a little boy. I started to really notice it several months ago when many of the cries for “mommy” somehow changed to “daddy”. In the evening, on the weekend, even in the middle night, it’s usually “daddy” now.

This afternoon he is playing at friend’s house. Not being babysat by a friend’s mom, not being watched while mommy goes to the dentist or a doctor’s appointment, simply playing at a friend’s house because he wants to. That’s a first.

Next Friday he starts pre-school. Another first. Two and a half hours every other day away. Away from mom, away from home. It’s strange to physically see him go from being Ross and Katie’s son to really becoming Tyler. A little boy, operating independent of his parents, becoming responsible for his own actions, forming his own identity.

I have heard it said that having a child is like having a piece of your heart walking around outside your body and I get that, I just didn’t know what it would feel like to not have that piece walking right beside you, holding your hand, under your careful eye and in your constant care. As excited as I am for him to learn and grow and try new things, I can’t help but feel like I am beginning to lose something that I have nurtured and protected and guarded nearly every hour of every day for the past 4 years. I am not really sure how you just put a backpack on that and walk away.

At the same time that my stomach does flips over all these changes, I find it all quite silly. Kids start pre-school all the time, sappy moms cry, life goes on and kids grow up. But all of those others moms, they weren’t me. And all of those other kids, they weren’t mine. I guess it’s kind of like getting pregnant, you can prepare for the baby, you can plan for it, you can talk to all of your friends about it and gather all of the advice that’s out there, but until you are there, having that baby or watching that piece of your heart walk away – even if just for a few hours at a time – you will never really know what it’s like. And, what’s more, once you do, there is no going back.

So in a few weeks I may be over it and thanking God for a few precious hours alone with my baby girl, a couple of hours with a quieter house, at least half a day with 50% fewer tornados messing up the house, but for now, well, it just feels a little sad.

So much to smile about

Five things that make me smile today:

1. I had a fantastic weekend. We had a long weekend camping trip in Oregon which included two 6 hour road trips, time with family, a simply beautiful wedding, the Clackamas Mall, a date night with my favorite date, countless showers for a continually dirty little boy, the Woodburn Company Stores, not enough naps for my kids, and, thankfully, happy kids who perform amazingly well with less than enough sleep. A really fantastic weekend.

2. Pounding out 6 miles on the treadmill this morning. What’s more? When none of my training partners was going to make the run this morning, my dearly protective husband who, for safety reasons forbids me to run alone, got up at 5:00am and carried our weighty treadmill out to the back patio so I could run outside in the safety of our backyard. Brilliant, that man.


3. A lawn mower that likes my husband more than me. Except for when I am severely with child, I am the mower of the lawn in these parts. Recently, though, the darned lawn mower will not start for me. Even more frustrating is the fact that Ross can, at any given time, start the mower with grace and ease and without breaking fingernails or breaking a sweat or using foul language or any of the exertions I am not necessarily proud of. Today, though, even with my fussing and fighting, the lawn mower has chosen to completely cease operating for me. So when my husband stopped by on his lunch and smirked when easily fired up the engine of the trusty lawn mower I smirked right back and told him that we now have a new mower of the lawn. Come to thinkof it, maybe that vacuum cleaner is going to begin giving me trouble as well.


4. Naps. As most parents know, the repercussions of a weekend of depriving your children of their much needed naps is a Monday filled with glorious, lengthy, peaceful naps. And, thus, a chance for mommy to blog.


5. More fun ahead. I love summer, and this one in particularly. Last summer we spent our days and weeks tending to a newborn, but this year we have a pint sized traveling companion and we are making the most of it. With many more trip to look forward to, a garden that is blessing me with beans and zucchini and a dozen tomatoes this morning alone, it’s hard not to love this summer and the rest that is yet to come.

Thinking on good things

A mommy friend who I very much admire told me once that she believes God gives us children to teach us more than for us to teach them. Yesterday I found that to be truer than ever.

At Bailey’s 1 year check-up yesterday she weighed in at a whopping 15.15 lbs and measured 26.75 inches, placing her firmly below the 3rd percentile of those government growth charts that might possibly have been invented just to give mothers one more thing to worry about.

At the doctor’s recommendation after the check-up we made our way to the lab for some blood tests – just to ensure that her little body is working exactly as it is supposed to. I am fairly convinced that there is not a thing wrong with our precious baby girl but at the same time I am thankful we are taking the steps to make certain of that. Even in my confidence, as a parent, there are always those moments when your mind takes the low road, when you begin to wonder a bit and ask the “what if” questions.

Last night as I was putting Tyler to bed he became hysteric with fear that a wizard was going to come in his room and take him from his mommy and daddy. Apparently he had seen a picture of a wizard in a book earlier in the day and he said he could not stop thinking about it.

In a rare moment of insight I quoted him Philippians 4:8, reminding him that the Bible instructs us to think on things that are true and noble and right and good and lovely. We talked about how he loves his family and Jesus and how birthday parties and ice cream make him very happy. As I kissed him goodnight I told him to think about all those very good things.

I couldn’t help but smile as I left his room and heard him saying “…rocky road and sherbet and…” and all the while knowing that I was given that verse every bit as much for me as I was for my little boy.

UPDATED: We are thanking the Lord that Bailey's blood tests have come back clear! We have a very healthy half-pint. Lucky for us, sometimes good things really do come in small packages.

On Blogging

I remember when I read my first blog. It was shortly after Tyler was born and I became a stay-at-home mom. The blog, authored by another stay-at-homer, was recommended to me by one of Ross’s aunts who indirectly knew the blogger. At first, I must admit, I found the whole idea a bit strange. Reading and becoming engaged by someone else’s life, someone who I did not even know, felt akin to peeking into another person’s medicine cabinet (did anyone else have that debate in college?). But the blog was funny, the writer smart, the posts witty and thoughtfully crafted. She was a stay-at home mom but she still had goals and ambitions and dreams and drive. It was that blog that helped me feel a little less lonely, a little less overwhelmed and a little more encouraged as I transitioned away from the working world and fully immersed myself in this mothering gig. And so over the past 4 years I have kept reading and adding a few other blogs to my favorites as well.

In my earlier days of following blogs, I hated it when the authors would go days without posting. Expanses of time without new entries always left me hanging, wondering what was going on, wishing for new updates or clever commentary. And then, finally, I started a blog of my own.

I had a goal of not being that blogger – the one who throws you a bone here and there and then disappears for awhile. I thought – even if it’s just a little entry, a couple of pictures, a small quote – I could easily post every 4 or 5 days. And then I read the book A Woman After God’s Own Heart – a tough book, a great book, a challenging book, and a book that screwed around with my goals just a bit.

There are weak moments when I wished I had never ordered the darn book, but in the end I would have to say, other than the Holy Bible itself, there is probably no other book that has had as much direct impact on my life. I know, scary. But, in a nutshell, that book has caused me to seriously re-think my priorities, to re-think how I spend every minute of each day. It has encouraged me to prioritize my heart for Christ, for my husband, for my family – and as you may well know the overflow of the heart is actions.

It’s crazy how easy it is for me to have a busy day and at the end of that day realize I didn’t spend any time reading my Bible or praying or furthering my relationship with the Heavenly Father who I owe my very life to. It’s sad how easily I can squander the few hours of quality time I am granted with my husband or my kids – on the internet, on the phone, reading a book, distracted. There is always a house to be cleaned, a meal to be cooked, bills to be paid, shopping to do, exercising to be done, a post to write – a million things vying for my time. None of them bad things, of course, just things competing with the relationships that I value the most.

So, I will still pay bills and I will still shop and I will still get a new post on the blog every now and then, but I am dedicated to putting what really matters first. And if that means I have a dozen posts running laps in my head that never make it to the keyboard (as I quite often do) then so be it. For now, it’s just a little lower on the list of priorities.

Cakeman

I would guess that anyone who even remotely knows my husband would consider him a “manly man”. He loves sports – football, basketball, soccer, golf. He loves the outdoors – hunting, camping, fishing, hiking. And most other pursuits guys often associate themselves with – NASCAR, snowboarding, wakeboarding, remodeling our home. For as long as I have known him he has been the quintessential guy’s guy.

I have learned over the years that as typical as these sorts of men can be they can occasionally throw a curve ball at you – like, have some random little tiny softer side that you never would have expected. My friend’s husband, for example, paints her toenails for her – totally surprised me. My uncle used to be the one who braided my cousin’s hair. And did it quite well I might add.

Now, while Ross can be all kinds of sweet to our children and me, I have never really found that one random – dare I say, slightly more feminine – trait that contradicts the rest of his entire personality. Until now. The signs were there; I guess I just never noticed them.

Six years ago, when we were still somewhat newlyweds, my birthday was approaching. My parents, for reasons I cannot remember, announced they would be out of town for my birthday. In a slightly pouty manner, I am sure, I whined to Ross about not having anyone to make me a birthday cake. Lo and behold when my birthday came around, Ross – Mr. I don’t know how to cook and have never baked anything in my life, made me a beautiful Rocky Road Chocolate birthday cake.

Although I think he may have made that cake again for me somewhere along the line those skills had mostly been retired until last March when I asked him for a little engineering help with Tyler’s dinosaur cake. I was surprised and amazed how into it he was. What a perfectionist he was. How he actually seemed to be enjoying himself.

Cut ahead to last night. We had a date night planned. Well, not really planned, more like we had a grandma available to watch the kids. As we threw around ideas of where to eat and the cloud of knowing everything I needed to do before Bailey’s birthday party hung heavy in my mind I suggested maybe we could just grab a quick bite to eat and use our kid-free time to work on Bailey’s cake together. And wouldn’t you know he took me up on it.

Actually he more than took me up on it. He ran away with it. He worked on the cake with precision, questioning my ideas, giving design input, working and re-working the fondant until he thought it was perfect. A little part of me was wondering, “hey, wasn’t this my idea” but a much bigger part was thinking, “this guy is amazing”. Don’t tell anyone, but I think he actually may be better at cakes than I am! He is way pickier, he’s a total perfectionist and the truth is he’s good.

So here’s the product of our date night - a good part of it the crafty art of a wonderfully manly man who indeed has a curve ball of his own. But even more than a passionate cake decorator this man is a passionate daddy who gives his very best to the two little ones in his life. Happy Birthday, Bailey and Happy Father’s Day, Cakeman!

Briefly

So I finished a book recently that placed heavy emphasis on prioritizing – your life, your days, your minutes – every thing really, in order to make sure you are a) using your time effectively and b) leaving no task unfinished. It’s been a fun and useful challenge, but also a challenge that a) leaves me pretty darn tired at the days end and b) leaves blogging a little lower on the list these days. (Anyone pick up on the prioritization in that paragraph alone? I am more obsessed with this theory than I thought!)

Anyway, even though I have been over a week without a post, there have been several that have been swimming laps in my head in my head but haven’t made it made to the keyboard. And, seeing as though they probably never will, I’ll give you a brief run down.

Birthday Parties: Tyler attended an all-boy, 4 year old birthday party on the farm last week that just about melted my heart. Watching my eldest offspring run around as an independent little boy – doing independent little boys things– was hilarious and endearing and frightening. They played in the hay, sprayed hoses at each other, ate pizza and generally tore around the place happy just being boys. Even more, two of those boys will be the buddies sitting next to Tyler in his pre-school class this fall. Never had I been so thankful that God gave me a little boy to watch learn and grow, until a day later…

Training Wheels: Ross and I wanted to buy Tyler a bike for his birthday last March but he simply didn’t want one. We tried coaxing him along but all he wanted were dinosaur toys. At 4 years old they don’t really have a grasp on the whole “ask carefully because you only get big presents for Christmas and your birthday” concept. So Ross and I gave him something small for his birthday and decided when he was ready for one, we would buy him the bike. And last week, he decided he was ready. On our way in to the True Value store to run a completely unrelated errand, Tyler spotted a perfectly shiny, orange and black bike – one of only two bikes in the store. It was adorable to watch him become completely enamored by it, bashfully ask the store clerk how much it cost and anxiously tell his daddy (via my cell phone) every detail about it. But not nearly as adorable as watching his face when daddy came home after work with that very same orange and black bike. Now for that completely unrelated errand we running…

Happy camper: I was paying the tax and license fees on the camp trailer that we purchased a couple of weeks ago. Nope, I am not a camper. Lingering effects from our crazy road trip a month or two ago included a realization that our kids love an adventure, we are all pretty good travelers, and life is short so we really want to enjoy as much time with our kids as we have – and so, we bought the trailer. Prior commitments left us grounded for the first 2 weekends of ownership so this past weekend was our first excursion as a camping family and it. was. fabulous. The forest, the river, the campfires, the deer, the elk, the food – we loved it all and can’t wait to hit the road again.
So that should catch you up fairly well, it’s not all inclusive but, for now, it will do.

Dawn of a New Day

Don’t you hate it when you clean out and scrub the kiddie pool like a good mother bear, ridding the watering hole of any harmful bacteria that might harm the little cubs. Only to have one of those little cubs toss a handful of mud in it.

Don’t you hate it when you run out to the trailer for just a sec, both kids in tow (thankfully!) and as soon as you shut the door to the house you realize, completely out of habit you have locked the door…with the keys inside…and now you have to call your husband….and ask him to come home…and this isn’t the first time that you have done this…or the second…or, cringe, maybe even the fifth.

Don’t you hate it when you spend a good share of the afternoon carefully crafting a lovely dinner, proudly incorporating a few of the vegetables you just harvested from your garden only to have to force every single member of your family to choke down even a taste of your Cauliflower Gratin and the Romaine lettuce in the salad is so horribly bitter you can’t even talk yourself into choking it down. And then, just for kicks, you burn the chicken. All of which you get to carefully scrape into the garbage can.

Don’t you hate it when you carefully collect all the items necessary to properly wash your car – soap, bucket, drying towels – so as not to tread back into the house, on your perfectly clean floors, with wet and dirty feet to gather forgotten items but while you are washing your car the kiddos decide to “wash” your drying towels.

Don’t you hate it when you have an incredibly sweet moment with God and in that moment you are able to relinquish some of your biggest questions about your future to Him and one day later He asks you to do something that – to quote Dr. Seuss – scares you right out of your pants.

Of course there are far worse things going on in the world, but from my little corner, it’s been quite a week. A week where nothing goes quite as planned. A week with detours and sharp curves. A week demanding patience, Plan B and the ability to go with the flow. And, let me tell you, going with the flow isn’t exactly my strong suit, just ask the savior of a locksmith that I am married to.

But, thankfully, tomorrow is Sunday. A new day, a new week. Better dinners and a car that’s already clean. How bad can it be?

Okay, bub, just please not today.

I’ve known for a few years now that my kids would grow up with more memories at the cemetery than I would. I knew that they would know more about death, about heaven, about remembering someone you love than I ever did at two, at four, at six. And for the most part I have been okay with that. It is what it is. It’s a fact of our lives, a truth of our family and since the kids will never remember a life without visits to the cemetery, carefully arranging bouquets and cleaning a marble headstone it will, at least for a few more years, seem normal to them - like something every family does occasionally.

What I didn’t know is what kind of questions my kids might ask, what kind of thoughts they might have about this seemingly normal part of their lives. And I’ve never really thought about how I would respond or what I would say, until today.

This morning as Tyler sat at the kitchen table eating a snack he asked me if he and Bailey were going to die. I paused for a moment and said, “yes, none of us will live forever”. After thinking about that for a second he said, “well, when we do, mommy, you can go to the cemetery and leave lots of flowers by our stones”. Trying not to let myself think about that too long I quickly added, “well, I hope that doesn’t happen for a long time”. “Oh, I do” was his immediate response. “Remember when you told me what a good place heaven is, mommy? I really want to go there”.

As much as I am thankful for these teaching moments, for this sweet, little boy – at whatever level of understanding – setting his heart on heaven, I can still feel my heart break – just a little bit – all over again.

Growing Green

I can’t seem to stop taking pictures of my garden. For one, I love, love, love this little, creative, organic wonder - a tiny testament to God’s handy work. But also, while my kids are perfectly photo worthy, they don’t stand still much, limiting my opportunities to learn about the varying effects of all the settings on my new camera. So I turn instead to the latest immobile object of my affection - my garden.

Here is the dear broccoli that sacrificed itself for our dinner Monday night.

And the cauliflower that will grace our plates this evening.

These baby bell peppers are just about ready to make their debut.

I spy baby burgundy beans.

The hope of peas to come...

Hurry up dear tomato for I have a salsa recipe waiting just for you.

Stawberry blooms, a delighful sign of wonderful things to come.

Itty, bitty sweat pea oh how tasty you will be.

Bear with me as I am exploring the worlds of photography and gardening all at once. I promise to return to posts of more content in the future....it may just be after gardening season is over!

We love summer!

Most afternoons this time of year we can be found in the backyard pool splashing around. It's a constant - lunch, storytime, naps, and splashing in the pool. It's not a big pool, it's but wet and cool and all kinds of fun.




We can be superman and conquer the world...







or we can just sit and show off our ruffles.











Either way,we love summer and we love, love, love our swimming pool.

Speak up, be heard

For as long as I can remember my mother has not been afraid to speak up. She is careful with her money and when she does spend it, she expects to get what she paid for. Whether it’s a meal at a restaurant, an expensive sweater or a $5 pair of slippers from Wal-Mart, if the product does not live up to the quality my mother fairly expected, she will kindly ask for a return, exchange, replacement or whatever may be adequate for the situation. To her credit my mother is never really demanding or rude about her requests but growing up I can’t say that I found this to be one of her most endearing traits. Okay, honestly it drove. me. crazy.

I know moms are meant to be slightly embarrassing – it’s somehow hardwired right in there with their baby producing organs, I think – and I am well on my way to becoming that delightfully embarrassing mother in my own right, but in recent years I have come to better understand, and even respect, my mother’s motives for speaking up. There are two primary reasons for this. 1) I am spending my own money (well, since I don’t have a job I technically spend Ross’s money, but he is very generous). There is definitely a change in thought process, a clearer understanding of value when you are no longer spending mom and dad’s money, but your own money. The realization of its limited supply has caused me to be a more judicious shopper and place greater importance on getting what I paid for. 2) A realization that if I were offering the product or service and it was not meeting customer expectations, I would want to know about it. This is where a history of business classes serves me well. Quality control can definitely be strengthened through customer feedback and a company never has a chance to rectify the situation and improve their product if assertive customers will not communicate with them.

And so gradually I have followed in my mother’s footsteps and chosen, in certain situations, to kindly let the company know when their product has not met my expectations and in the process of doing such I have experience some wonderful generocities from companies – particularly in highly competitive markets – seeking to keep happy customers.

My first example occurred when Ross and I purchased a new HE washer and dryer set about a year and a half ago. I have been a loyal Tide customer from the time I started buying my own laundry soap and when I needed to switch to the high efficiency variety for my new front-loader I picked up a vat of liquid Tide HE from Costco. Since I was a powder detergent girl in the past this liquid form was a new frontier for me, but it was the tricky new dispenser that really threw me off.

The liquid for this baby dispenses into the provided cup and the cup fits right back onto the bottle. While this is a nice concept, whenever I am returning that cup to the bottle it is filled with the remains of the detergent I just threw in with the load, requiring me to clean the cup out after each use so I can place it back on the bottle in a tidy manner (yes, I am a type A personality). Now I don’t know if any of you have tried to rinse out a cup lined with HE detergent but that soap is highly concentrated making it a bit of a cumbersome task. Upon becoming frustrated with this process I began asking my HE Tide loving friends how they handle their Tide dispensers and I learned a few throw the cup back on and are not bothered with the drips that run down the dispenser and others just forget about the cup and eyeball the necessary amount of the detergent as they pour it right into the machine.

Unfortunately neither of those options work for me, because a) I would be endlessly frustrated knowing my Tide container had drips running down it and b) I would be endlessly frustrated if I thought I was potentially wasting excess detergent and/or not using enough to properly cleanse my babies’ clothes due to inadequate detergent measurements. Oh, the horror. So it occurred to me that Tide really needs to work on improving the engineering and design of their dispenser so as not to put me, their loyal customer, in such a quandary. And so I decided to tell them just that. I politely shot them an e-mail to voice my concerns and encourage them to improve their product for ease of use. Wouldn’t you know that the executives at Tide (or some under paid techie at their response center in India) took the time to write me back, thank me for taking the time to comment, inform me that the measuring cup was actually designed to be easily tossed in the wash (which I love the idea of and now do regularly) and included a coupon for $15 off my next Tide purchase in appreciation of my loyalty. Score, two points for Tide!

Round 2:

A couple of months ago Ross came home to find our littlest darling in her Exersaucer with bits of neon green druel excreting from her mouth. After further inspection, we found that she was actually chewing the paint off one of the toys on her sacuer, which was purchased only a month or two earlier. While I didn’t find the fact that our child may have ingested a little paint to be all that alarming I was a little disappointed in the saucer as it is a product specifically designed for those gnawing, drueling little people. So when I had a minute a few days later I shot an e-mail off to Evenflo – the maker of the Exersaucer – with a picture of the damaged toy and I kindly let them know that they might consider using non-painted pieces in the future. In no time I was rewarded with a swift response regarding the safety of their water-soluble paints as well as assurance that replacement toys would be over-nighted to my home as soon as I could provide them with my mailing address. Two points for Evenflo!



Finally, last fall Ross purchased a new pair of Danner work boots. While they don’t come cheap good boots are an essential part of Ross’s work wardrobe and in the past he has found Danner’s to be his favorite. This pair performed no differently except for the fact that he kept breaking the laces. First it was every month or two and then it was once a month and soon it became every other week. In an effort to remedy this problem I tried buying laces at Wal-Mart and Danner brand laces from Big R. I bought nylon laces and leather ones, short one and longer ones – all to no avail. I tried quizzing Ross about the issue – is his muscular frame just pulling the laces too tight? No. Are they too loose and getting caught on equipment or tools when he is working? No. Upon closely examining the boots we noticed the lower eyelets appeared to have a rough edge that gradually – or not so gradually – wore the laces.

You can probably guess by now that I considered this to be a design flaw that Danner needed to know about. So this time I sent an e-mail to Danner Boots letting them know how much my husband enjoyed their product. I acknowledged that I didn’t keep my receipt (which I didn’t in any of these cases actually) and that the boots were clearly outside the 6 month warranty period, basically admitting that I didn’t have a complaining leg to stand on, but even so I wanted to let them know how constantly broken boot laces are a bit of hassle and I encouraged them to find a better solution for their eyelets. This time I got nice response from Danner assuring me of their product quality standards and offering to take a look at the boots if I sent them in. The e-mail stated that upon receipt of the boots they would inspect them and may be willing to offer a partial refund (according to usage and wear) if they were found to be defective. Now while this is a nice offer, in reality it is not a feasible option since Ross wears his boots every working day and sending the old ones off would mean having to buy new ones for the interim. So I responded to Danner with a “thanks, but that is not really helpful” e-mail.

To my surprise the folks at Danner didn’t give up on their efforts to appease me. They responded by asking if I would be willing to e-mail them pictures of the boots – the problem area, the tread, the wear – noting that understanding customer expectations and the performance of their product is of utmost importance to them. Eager to use my new camera, I didn’t want to turn down this photography engagement so I snapped a few shots and e-mail them off to Danner land. This time days – maybe even a week – went by and I heard nothing back. I nearly forgot about Danner all together when another message from them showed up in my inbox. In summary, the folks at Danner wished to physically inspect what appeared to be weakening eyelets on this product. If I would be willing to give them the size and model number of the boots they would overnight us a brand new pair with the condition that upon receipt of the new boots I would return the used ones (now 8 months old) to them. Deal! Ten points for Danner.

My point here is not to brag, to encourage complaining or advocate freely expressing disgruntled behavior with the hopes of getting something in return. But when we become frustrated with a product we seem more likely to wallow in our frustration or tell a friend how much we hate that product rather than give the company constructive criticism in order to help them improve their product. It’s easy to think –I don’t have any pull with these companies – but the truth is you do. Our disposable incomes pay their bills as well as anyone else’s does and if we are not willing to communicate our concerns and give those companies an opportunity to improve, to rectify the problem and earn our business then we miss out on exercising the buying power that we really do have. Not only have Tide, Evenflo, and Danner, remedied my frustrations with their products, they have made me a more loyal customer in the process. What’s more? I am now a loyal customer who is willing to tell my friends about the equitable actions of these companies. So, next time you are frustrated with a product and you really believe it is not meeting your needs like it should, send the company an e-mail and kindly let them know your thoughts. You may very well be surprised by their response.

Just so I can go to sleep...

Okay, I’m irked. I doubt I can sleep unless I write about it so I may as well just get it over with before I even try to go to bed. I just finished watching the latest episode of Jon & Kate plus 8. We’re not long standing fans in this house, but we have, in recent months, come to enjoy this show. It started around the first of the year, I think. After receiving a dazzling recommendation from a friend, I bought the Gosselin’s first book, Multiple Blessings, and as the recommendation foreshadowed, I loved it. I had caught an episode of the show here and there but the book provided so much more depth and background as well as a very direct confirmation of their dedication to Jesus Christ and I instantly became a sympathetic fan. Since then we have watched the show much more frequently and, of course, their recent marriage struggles have not gone under our radar either.

Now I am not gullible enough to assume I can believe even half of what I read or catch a glimpse of in magazines littering the grocery store checkout stands AND even the small amount of time I have spent as a woman, a wife and a mother has taught me to truly believe that you never really know what someone else is going through until you walk a mile in their shoes, but all of this media buzz about marriage struggles leaves me incredibly disappointed, incredibly sad.

And amidst all of this disappointment and sadness I am a little bit frustrated. As I watched the show tonight I heard a redundant theme – “our kids are our priority” “we’ve changed and become two different people” “I just don’t know anymore”. Since when do we start buying into all of these lies? Don’t get me wrong, marriage is tough – really tough. We would all be lying if we said we never felt disconnected from our spouse – like we were going two different directions – like we have become two different people. That’s life; people change. But when we made our vows, when we said for better or for worse there was no exception for change – we didn’t commit as long as everything and everyone stayed the same. Further, is it any wonder that we are breeding a generation where half of marriages end in divorce if our priority is our kids and not our marriage?

I will never forget when I heard my pastor state that our relationship with Christ cannot be frozen in place. He said with each passing day we are either moving closer to God or we are moving further away. What a concept. And, I don’t think our marriages are really any different. Each day we are either working to build a stronger bond, to know our spouse more, to give more, to love more, to be more selfless, to serve more, to be more committed, to pray more, to meet more needs, to care more, to nurture more, or we simply are not. I am not saying it’s easy, because I know for a fact that it is not. I know that it’s tiring and it doesn’t always seem fair and sometimes it just feels like work. But, the truth is that it matters. Every single day it matter. The effort you put in and the effort you don’t put in matters.

I have only been at this marriage thing about 8 years but I have the feeling you can’t ever just go on auto-pilot because there are so many variables that life will throw at you. People change and life changes but that will never change the vows I made to Ross, the vows I made before God. It sounds lovely to say that my kids are my priority – and I don’t want to judge someone else’s priorities – but the way I see it, beyond a sound acknowledgment of their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, the very best thing I can give my children is an example of a strong marriage – a mommy and daddy that love each other and are committed to each other even – no, especially when things change. That is love and that is my priority.

So I write this as much for myself as I do to vent because it breaks my heart to watch someone concede, to watch someone else buy into lies that can so easily plant themselves in our heads and in our hearts. I am not immune; none of us are. So this is affirmation of my commitment. A post of rededication to the vows that I made so that when tough times come – and I know that they will – my own words and the grace of my Heavenly Father can help me re-focus. There are many things I can live without in this life, many dreams I am willing to concede but my marriage is not and will not be one of them.

Ahhh. Sorry for the rant but now I can go to sleep. Goodnight!

A perfect weekend - almost

What makes for a great Memorial Day Weekend? Loads of sunshine and the relief of shade. Swimsuit clad kids covered in sunblock with sticky smiles and still stickier fingers evidencing a diet of smores, Cheetos and a dozen other sinful treats. A slip-n-slide, a kiddie pool, a trampoline, soccer balls and baseball bats. A rattle snake story and a campground on the river. Steaks on the barbie and shish kabobs, hot dogs and potato salad. A big, beautiful sunbrella. A cemetary turned into a glorious rainbow of colors. Cold pop and iced tea. Ice cream cake. A little time with friends, a lot of time with family. Unearthing old memories all while making new ones. It was a truly fabulous weekend of coming and going from one event to the next. The only bad part? When you forget your camera and don’t have a single shot to commemorate it. Grrr!

Redefining me

I always laugh when I think of what the “me” in high school would think of the “me” today. I doubt that me would even recognize this me, or if she did she would probably be laughing too – you know, in a, oh my gosh how did I become so weird sort of way. Of all my childhood hopes and aspirations none of them included raising a family in small town, USA. None of them included enjoying the simple pleasures of life – making my own baby food, canning fruit I picked myself, quilting, cake decorating.

I’m not sure exactly how or when I became so weird, it must be a process I guess. Shortly after getting married I remember sitting Ross down for a big goal setting session. Paper and pen in hand I intended to outline and detail our 1, 5, and 10 year goals, both corporate and individual. We noted our goals for finances, for major purchases, for trips and fun stuff – yes, I even outlined when I thought it would be appropriate for us to purchase the two labs that Ross is still waiting for. But it wasn’t until I proof-read our goals that it hit me – in a completely obligatory manner, “Oh my gosh, we have to have kids somewhere in here”. And as I see it, that may very well be the moment I started becoming weird.

For the most part I think I am okay with the weirdness (aka. Laura Ingalls Wilder tendencies) but this summer I have hit a whole new level of self-preservation (I’m not even sure if that’s the right word but we’ll just go with it, okay?). I started a garden. Oh horror of all horrors! Now please, I mean this with no offense to those avid gardeners among us, but this is just one road I was sure I wouldn’t go down. I have been perfectly happy with the peppers and broccoli that my local Safeway provides me and have never seen a reason to risk getting dirt under my fingernails AND on my knees to grow my own. I remember as recently as last year a friend from MOPS asking me if I garden and I quickly responded with, “nope, that’s not my thing, I’m not that girl.” Oh, but I am.

Part of me thinks that a certain degree of weirdness is just downright required for motherhood so I’ll just consider this all an effort to oblige my children – to teach them tolerance and acceptance and whatever else those modern psychologists think my kids need. But the truth is, I am having a blast learning new things - trying things I never thought I would try, exploring new interests and discovering ones I never knew I had. So, who cares if the high school me would be laughing – laugh away miss high school, but I’m the one with some awesome applesauce in the pantry and happy heads of romaine in the garden.

Meet my little organic garden. 4x8 raised bed. 20 pea plants, 16 beans & onions , 4 heads of lettuce, 4 tomatoes, 3 peppers, 3 cauliflower, zucchini, pumpkins, broccoli, strawberries, a few dozen carrots, cilantro and, hopefully, more herbs by tomorrow. Who knew weird could be so much fun!

Great Expectations...Part 2

So although our night with the dinosaurs wasn’t every thing I dreamed of and I was kind of bummed that the evening didn’t have half the magic that I planned for it to have, by the next morning I was resigned to being thankful for what it was – time with Tyler, time with Ross and – good, bad or otherwise – a memorable experience. Contrast that with the events and expectations of the next day….

Earlier in the week we had learned that Ross’s maternal grandmother was diagnosed with cancer again and the prognosis was not good. Since the doctors thought she would be with us at least a little while longer, on Friday (dinosaur day) Ross and I passed up a great deal on next-day airline tickets in favor of flying out a few weeks later. Unfortunately, Grandma’s health seemed to decline by the hour and on Saturday every single one of her 20 grandchildren, amongst other family, made the decision to converge on Edgerton, Minnesota by Monday– every single grandchild except Ross, that is. We quickly re-checked airline tickets but the great deal from yesterday had not only evaporated but was now triple the price, meaning over two grand to get our family there. After running through our options Ross decided it would be best for him to just make the 22 hour drive alone. It wasn’t a decision either of us were particularly happy with or excited about, it just seemed like the most reasonable option available.

Ross slowly collected his necessities in a suitcase and loaded up his truck while I woke Tyler from his nap so we could explain to him that Daddy was going to be leaving for a few days. And that was all it took. One child, short on sleep, woken abruptly and told his daddy was leaving him behind. It was the kind of meltdown that cuts straight to the heart of parents. Not the “buy me this now!” kind of meltdown, but the “I love my daddy more than anything and cannot bear to be left behind” kind. Our house immediately turned into a whirlwind of excitement as we made a quick change of plans and gave ourselves one hour to pack clothes and kids and hit the road.

Now, let’s talk about expectations here. What exactly are your expectations when you have one hour to pack for a 4 day trip? How lovely do you expect 44 hours in the car to be? With a 4 year old? And a 10 month old? What about when 4 days turns into 9? You expect madness I tell you, absolute madness! You expect late nights and tired bums. Whining kids and tired parents. You expect too many stops at McDonald’s and everything to take longer than planned. You expect to have forgotten enough things to fill up an entire other suitcase. Whatever it is you expect, none of it exactly qualifies as a good time. Soon after hitting the road Tyler asked a question about this “vacation” we were on and I very carefully corrected him, “this is a roadtrip, Tyler, it should never, ever be confused with vacation”.

But the truth turned out to be quite the contrary. On a trip that was unplanned, unorganized, unbudgeted and probably a whole bunch of other “un” words, we actually got way more than we bargained for – more fun, more laughs, more memories, more smiles. Yes, there were late nights and plenty of forgotten items, but those hotel room hair dryers really aren’t half bad and with a little creativity we found there are a host of things in a hotel room that put our traditional bath toys to shame. What amazed me most was that, particularly for the kids, fun has nothing to do with cool bath toys or being organized anyway, it’s about doing something together. To them, home is family, home is us. And, as long as we were all together they were game for almost anything. The only time Tyler really cried on the whole trip was when we woke up in Missoula, Montana and told him, “Guess what, buddy, today we are going home”.

Most of all what I learned from this trip is that expectations are what you make of them. Sure it’s nice to plan and anticipate but there is so much value in learning to appreciate the situation, the moment, for what it is. They aren’t all perfect and they aren’t all pretty, but it’s life and each day offers an opportunity for us to enjoy, to learn, to grow. And even more, I have been blessed with 2 little people who are not only learning to enjoy their own moments as well, but carefully watching mommy to learn and understand how best to do just that. So, here’s to keeping expectations in perspective and doing my best to enjoy every curveball life throws at me. Hopefully, they won’t all involve a 3,000 mile roadtrip, but either way, I’m game.

Great Expectations....Part I

The older I get the more I am coming to realize that my enjoyment of life is highly dependent upon my expectations. Don’t get me wrong I enjoy life as much as the next person, maybe even more, but at the same time I have always known that I have pretty high expectations. I tend not to discriminate as to what I set expectations on – myself, my home, time, fun, anything really, but I am just beginning to understand the impact these very expectations have on my ability to enjoy life. The events of the past weeks have been a perfect of example of that.

April 28th had been noted on our calendar for months now. As soon as I read that Walking With Dinosaurs, the ultra-fabulous theatrical rendition of the BBC program, was coming to Yakima I quickly keyed my debit card number into the Ticketmaster website and scored three tickets to the prehistoric showdown. You see, dinosaurs are big in our house - really, really big. I am not sure exactly how Tyler became interested in them but for the last 9 months or so, which might as well be a lifetime in kid years, dinosaurs have been the favorite toys, books, placemats, puzzles, pajamas, t-shirts…you get the point. We know their names – well at least the ones mommy can pronounce, we take turns pretending to be them, and, of course, we had a dinosaur birthday party. So when we heard the mother of all dinosaur shows was going to be 45 minutes away from our home, even if it was going to set us back almost $80 for three of the cheap seats, we were going to be there.

Of course, there is an intrinsic amount of anticipation anytime you wait months for an event to occur, spend what you consider to be a fair amount of money to attend that event and are constantly reminded of its impending arrival through television commercials and newspapers advertisements, none of which are lost on an ever-alert 4 year old. But as if that anticipation weren’t enough, I tend to pile on the additional anticipatory expectations regarding what a wonderfully amazing time we are going to have or how much Tyler is going to love the show. I begin to envision how we will kick the night off with a super fun dinner out at a very special restaurant, all will be smiles during the show, we will leave with an armload of memorabilia and show souveniers and – if possible – even bigger smiles. Heck, there may even be music playing in the background on this perfect mommy-daddy-Tyler date night and those Hallmark movie producers may be sell-served to just start shooting this one now. Yup, nothing like great expectations.

In reality it went something like: last minute change in child care plans for Bailey, out the door late, Red Robin – too far out of the way, Applebees – 45 minute wait, so, slightly irritated, we conceded and downed burgers at Miner’s. With full stomachs and renewed confidence we arrived plenty early to claim our seats, only 3 rows shy of the ceiling where it must be 85 degrees and the bench seats put us all to close to perfect strangers who also appear, err smell, like they aren’t exactly enjoying the cozy climate either. As the show begins, we try to relax and really enjoy it when 15 minutes later some late-comers are blocking our view, whispering loudly and then approach us to tell us we are in their seats. What’s worse? They were right! So we begin the track back down the 362 stairs to the bottom of the arena and up the 365 stairs on the other side – all the while missing vital parts of the show. Now we, the get there early great expectations folks, get to appear to be the 20 minute late-comers, whispering excuse me as we squeeze between knees, block views and ignore dirty looks. Luckily we eventually find our real seats where we can now actually touch the ceiling in 89 degree comfort. Lovely. In the end it was a great show. Really, a great show. Not a Hallmark movie moment, but a memory that is a lot more like real life. And what makes it all worth it in the end? When your 4 year old, with every bit of sincerity exclaims, “Mommy, thank-you so much for getting us seats where I can see the very top of the brachiosaurus!” You’re welcome, Tyler, it was my pleasure.

The UPS man delivers

Remember the package I was so anxiously waiting for in a post a couple of weeks ago? Any guesses as to what was in it? Laura, you are disqualified; you may not guess! Well, this is kind of fun so I’ll give you a hint. It was a birthday present from Ross. Nope, it’s not my birthday, but that is just kind of the way we do things around here.

Okay, next hint, I picked it out. I mean really picked it out. I researched it, I compared competing products, I talked to friends and I knew exactly which one I wanted. And then, I began dropping hints. First of the “wow, that would be nice to have someday” sort and then a little of the “that would make a really nice birthday present” and then, finally, I resorted to the “I am pretty sure I cannot live another day without this so here is where to get it, this is how much it costs and if you just type your happy little debit card number right here you will be the most fabulous husband ever”….or something like that. Wow, that was a really terrible hint now wasn’t it?

Well, maybe I could just show you. Ready?

No, really are you ready?

Tada! You like?



How about this one?

Nope, he didn’t get me flowers – I realize they look very much like the delightful blooms that are sprinkled around our front yard but I already had those. What Ross gave me was the ability to photograph them, and my kiddos, and Charlie the fish, and any other goofy thing my happy fingers want to record. He got me a Nikon D40 camera! Hooray for me; I might very well be the luckiest girl in the hole world right now. There is something about 2.5 pictures per second and a fabulous zoom lens that just makes my pulse jump.

I realize that having a fancy-shmancy camera comes with a bit of obligation to take nice photos. And, seeing as though I really have no skills and have now lost my “crappy camera” excuse I am feeling the pressure a bit, but I have time – not to mention a firm grip on the “auto” setting of my camera, for now. So you, my friend, get to watch me learn. I bought a book and I would like to take a class or two but for now the best experience will just be diving in and trying it out, so here is to doing just that.

Oh yes, and much to love to my ever-fabulous husband who is thoughtful, generous, and a very good listener.

Saying Good-bye

I am fully convinced that there will ever be few gifts in this life that are more precious and for which I more thankful for than the opportunity we had this past week - to say good-bye to Grandma Kooi. If it were up to me and my perfect plans, we wouldn’t have made it. Grandma was diagnosed a week and a half ago and told she may live a year, maybe a month. After checking flights and schedules we opted to wait a few weeks to see her but then for a variety of reasons we changed our minds and in an hour’s time packed clothes and kids and got on I-90 East to Edgerton, Minnesota. It was a very quick decision God knew all about and one Ross and I will never regret.

Ross and I have never lost a grandparent. The eight originals have been with us our entire lives and so as we drove we thought about what it meant to say good-bye. It’s amazing how we take the presence of the people in our lives, particularly the constants who have been there for years, for granted. While we understand mortality superficially, we somehow think because they have always been there, they always will be. But they won’t.

Particularly, we thought about Grandma Kooi - her fabulous personality, her chipper spirit, her great faith, her servant’s heart, her spry smile. How do you say good-bye to someone who holds so many places in your heart? We had never done this before and we were sad, a little scared and at a loss for words.

Most people don’t get the opportunity to say good-bye and I am forever grateful that we did. But even more than goodbye we were able to say thank-you. Thank-you for your prayers when we didn’t even know you were praying. Thank-you for aging with grace, never losing that smile that is permanently etched in so many minds. Thank-you for showing selflessness and serving others, near and far. Thank-you for choosing love, even when it wasn’t easy. Thank-you for loving Christ and living your life to show others what that means. Thank-you for raising a family that fears God, that supports one another, that knows how to have a good time. Thank-you for remembering how to laugh. Thank-you for baking. Thank-you for not only caring, but making sure we knew you did. Thank-you for being a woman of integrity, a servant who gave, a mother who served, an honorable wife, a loyal friend, and all the grandmother a grandchild could ever wish for.

Grandma Kooi wasn’t really even my Grandma, she was Ross’s. But that didn’t matter to me and I don’t think it mattered to her either. She loved easily and she was easy to love. She was amazing in life – a joy, a treasure - but she has been even more exemplary in death. Even as her days were ending she chose to teach her children, her grandchildren and all those who loved her yet one more lesson. She taught us how to know your Savior with complete confidence, to stare at death fearlessly, to rest assured in the very faith she lived for – all this a final and lasting gift she purposely chose to give. She was dignified in both life and death and my life is changed because I knew her, was apart of her family, a witness to her bravery.

This morning Grandma Kooi met Jesus. Only a week ago she dined with every one of her 6 children, 20 grandchildren and dozens of great-grandchildren. In the days that followed she was able to tell each and every one of them exactly what they meant to her and they did the same. Her time here came to an end quickly and painlessly with all four of her daughters at her side as she took her last breath. Grandma Kooi honored God her entire life and God chose to honor her in death.

It is not easy to say good-bye to such a beautiful woman, a woman I aspire to be. I have been blessed to see what God can do with a single life. So even as we cry, in our hearts we smile because it could not have ended more beautifully and we have no doubts about where Grandma is right now. I could not ask for anything more.

Quick question

In the event that you ordered something you really, really, REALLY wanted. Something you wanted so much the anticipation of its arrival makes you giddy. Something you did package tracking on every single day – maybe even twice a day - just to make sure it was going to arrive on time, as promised - no backorders, no rescheduled shipping, no excuses. In the event, say, that a person was just that excited to get that special something and that person knew for a fact that the special something was going to be arriving via UPS this very day, but, unfortunately, UPS does not deliver to said person’s home until 5:00pm but as luck would have it that very person saw the UPS man driving around the other side of town at precisely 11:00am. Would it be appropriate, err acceptable, for that person to follow that UPS man for just a little while – no more than a couple of miles, of course, and ever so kindly jump out of her car and ask the UPS man if there is any way he might rifle through his truck for just a moment and her find special package?

No, no it wouldn’t be acceptable? Okay, I think I made the right choice then – ugh, I mean, I will tell my friend. Thanks.

Pint sized pedi

I’ve waited some time for these toes.

I wished for them years ago - a daughter of my own someday. A girl to share in the feminine novelties that I was blessed to shared with my own mother. Curling irons, lip gloss, tea sets.

I dreamed of them years later when I married prince charming and began to realize the fantasy of having a family of my own was less about playing house or make believe but more about planning and timing – all well within reach. Tights, make up, an Easy Bake oven.

I hoped for them, silently, when we decided the time was right to start “trying”. There was never a regret that a baby boy was on the way, but all the while I kept hoping – someday. Barbies, perfume, saltwater sandals.

I prayed for these toes. They were almost here once, but God had different plans. Plans I probably still don’t fully understand, but plans I trust just the same. And yet I prayed for them. Princesses, dresses, headbands.

And then at last they arrived. More wished for, more dreamed of, more hoped for and far more prayed for than I could have imagined, than I ever intended. Oh, how I have waited to paint these very toes. And while the road to paint them seemed a little long and sometimes tough, the moment is none less sweet. Even if there are never tea sets, if she hates dresses and saltwater sandals are completely outdated. Even if there is never an Easy Bake oven, I will be content because I got to paint those toes.

While a hundred adjectives might not even sum up the first year of life with a new baby, today laundry will do just fine. Laundry. Laundry. Laundry. Not just the dirty kind – the spit up on kind, the diaper leaked on type, or the food smeared variety – but the a little too small, a little too long, not right for the weather kind as well. Sheesh, no wonder it seems like I am forever drowning in laundry. If I am not washing, drying, folding or ironing I am sorting, transitioning in, transitioning out, bagging up for the Christian thrift, storing for the possibility of another little person (don’t read too much into that – I said possibility) or tossing the really bad stuff in the garbage. Seriously, if a baby growing to nearly triple their birth weight within a year isn’t enough, we get to throw 4 seasons into the mix as well and let’s not even pretend that they might change sizes within a season because then we might as well just be sorting clothes at least once a month. Wow, maybe that’s why I feel there is always more laundry.

True, they do slow down as they get a little older. Tyler has calmed down to the twice yearly transition of Spring/Summer and Fall/Winter but he still finds a way to make his own contributions. In these amazing warm days, where we have shed coats and rid ourselves of socks my dear dirt-magnet of a boy adores being outside - adores it so much that he somehow bathes himself it – dirt of the powdery sort, the muddy sort or a combination of both, it’s everywhere. Of course such boyhood atrocities demand stripping said child prior to remittance back in the house and in the process we create, you guessed it, more laundry.

The truth is while I try pretty hard to stay on top of all the reconfiguring of sizes and seasons I’m not perfect. But, since I am the one home with the kids all day it usually works out okay. I know what fits and I know what doesn’t and I can dig around and find the right stuff to throw a properly fitting outfit together. The trouble is when someone else tries to dig around in those manic drawers. The ones with newborn shoes that wouldn’t fit half of Bailey’s foot but are in the drawer because they were her dedication shoes and I couldn’t bear to put them in the hand-me-down bin quite yet. And then there is the outfit that is size 12 months which could easily hold two little Baileys but it was a gift – one of my favorites, in fact – and I can’t put it somewhere else because I might forget about it. Along the way you might also find a 3-6 month diaper cover that goes with who knows what dress, some socks that fit my pinky finger and various colors of tights that don’t really seems to fit right no matter what size they are. Yes, the manic drawer that my husband must never be allowed to open lest he dress my child like an overgrown newborn, 12 month shirt which is now a dress, socks with the heal that rests mid-arch and matching? Let’s not even talk about matching. So, as I see it I have only two options – stay on top of this laundry madness or risk being solely responsible for dressing my children for the next half dozen years. Which reminds me, I gotta go – I’ve got laundry to do.

An Easy Thanks

Sometimes being thankful is just plain work. Days when I lock myself out of the house for the third time in two weeks. Days when the milk gets spilled at every meal and a certain little person could not hit the toilet if it were a bathtub. Days when naps are short and patience is shorter. Days when a baby is permanently attached to my hip or days when both kids cry. Some days a baby is permanently attached to my hip AND both kids cry. As much as I know these are precious moments, funny memories, the wonder years that I will at some point in the future look back on with the rose colored fuzziness of selective memory that only time can bring, in the moment it is sometimes just pretty darn hard to be thankful.

But then there are the rest of the days. The beautiful days that I want permanently etched in my memory. Forget memory, they are days I could repeat over and over again. Days of endless drooling smiles, of seventy degree sunshine, of lemonade and lounge chairs, strawberries and barbeque, of capris and painted toes, a 4 year old playing with a fishing pole and a baby in a wide brimmed polka-dotted hat. Days of lounging and dancing and playing tag and swinging. Days filled with grandpas and grandmas and the people who make life good. Blooming tulips, growing gardens, clean cars.

I am sure there is something more glorious, more virtuous, about gritting your teeth and choosing thankfulness on days that are not quite so splendid. But even so, on this incredibly easy day, when thankfulness comes with no effort at all, I mean it just the same. Thank you God, I could not have asked for more.

And so I blog

So here it is. My initial blog, my inagural post, my virgin attempt at putting into words the very events, thoughts and ramblings that are my life. Why a blog? Well, why not? Sure I may be a slow adopter and may be gearing up when other bloggers are slowing down but why not buck the trend. But, more precisely, I think I am finally beginning to grasp just how quickly life changes. I took Tyler, my 4 year old, to pre-school preview day yesterday and the fact that nothing stays the same hit me like a freight train. Gone are my slow mornings of snuggling him in bed. Gone are the days of me being the sole teacher and influence in his day. Kids grow up; things change.

I remember when I was pregnant people would tell me to enjoy it because kids grow up fast and time passes quickly. Then came the seemingly endless nights and tired days and crying, pooping, hungry baby and I thought - they lied to me, I may have very well spent half my life with this crying, pooping, hungry infant. But then I got some sleep and said infant became a smiling, drooling, crawling baby and a curious, wobbly, giggly, babling toddler and a creative, energetic, intelligent little boy and I realized that those people are right. And now I have a drooling little girl carefully following the very same path so if I can't stop it and I can't slow it I might as well record it. Because in the words of Arrowsmight, "I don't want to miss a thing".

Beyond documenting my life with kids and the changes they bring, reason #2 for starting a blog - I change too. Alot. A few months ago I found a journal that I wrote half my life ago and had not read since. Yeah, imagine for a second what you would have written half your life ago! It made me laugh and cringe at the same time. I had completley forgotten what a crazy emotional time those teenage years can be and how differently I understood self-worth and confidence and value and everything that is really important. And, while I kind of hated remembering it all I also realized how important it was to record it, to remember. Because it won't be too long before I will have crazy, emotional teenagers of my own and, for better or worse, I want to have the true empathy of my own memories and not simply brush their trials away with a "this too shall pass".

The truth is, without an honest account, a journal of our thoughts, we tend to glaze things over a bit. Just this past weekend Ross and I were looking at a photo of Tyler and him carving pumpkins a few years back. We sat there taking it all in - remembering that cute shirt Tyler was wearing, smiling at the pile of pumpkins guts running through his finger and the rest dangling off the table and onto the floor, staring at those adorable little Nikes he used to wear and in awe of what a wonderful moment, wonderful memory that was. The funny part is the more we thought about that night, we remembered that we were in a hurry because we had to get somewhere and I was freaking out because I didn't want pumpkin guts on my clean floors and Tyler was crying because he wanted to play with the carving knife and Ross was frustrated because....you get the point. While it is sometimes great that we don't remember everything that goes on outside the frame of the camera, that is also a very real part of life and I want my kids to know it. Transparency isn't exactly something that comes naturally for me. I'd be much happier letting everyone, including my kids, think I've got it all together. But that's not the truth. Far from it. So this blog is an attempt at that - recording honestly. So when my little girl is a mommy and she screws up her baby boy's first birthday cake and feels like a failed mother she'll know that I did it too. So when my son thinks his wife is crazy for obssessing over exactly which carseat to buy he'll know his own mommy did the very same thing. Tracking changes, recording history and providing a dose of honest reality - that is why I will blog.