Chef B'oyardee's on the Way!

Just talked to my brother, Tim, in Iraq, and he sounded fine, but is frustrated because the boxes that my mom sent him haven't gotten there yet. His DVD player is in there, and he said he's going nuts without anything to do. It made me sad because he said he goes by the mail place every day, and there's boxes and boxes- walls of them, he said, and somehow, his haven't gotten there yet.

He said he was just worried because he knew mom had put a lot of stuff in them, and he didn't want it to get lost, but really, I think he's just ready for a little taste of home.

I hung up feeling really guilty because the box of stuff that I have to send him, has been sitting there for about 2 weeks, because I had to go to 3 post offices to get the right boxes, and now I found out I have the wrong forms, too. Anyway, that box is going out TODAY. I put cans of pop-top Chef B'oyardee (per his request), a soup mug, plastic spoons, Lance Crackers, Pumpkin Peeps, and lollipops in there along with a Halloween card, and a picture Mason colored. Hopefully, it'll get there before Halloween. I told him about the Chef B'oyardee on the phone, but I said, "I guess I shouldn't tell you about it- your mouth will be watering". He said, "It already is." He said the PX over there has lots of canned microwavable stuff, but there are some things they don't sell- Chef B'oyardee being one of them.

I joked about sending him a freeze-dried pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. But he said they are eating really well. He said he had bacon and eggs for breakfast, and stir fry for lunch. Last time I had talked to him, he'd had steak and lobster. Good thing they keep those guys moving!

Anyhow, I think he would appreciate a card or note- or a picture your kid colored, whatever. I know you're all busy, but if you have a second, and want to send him a card or note, contact me for his address- postage should be the same as US.If you do send a card, put on there how you know me or our family, so he knows who you are. :)

Also, I know alot of you are involved with youth groups, school groups, and such. Maybe some of your kids would be interested in doing Care Packages. Not just to Tim, but to some of the guys over there. I'm just thinking that he's probably not the only one over there not getting mail, you know?

If you decide to pursue any of that, and want to do a package- get the flat rate boxes. They're $8.95 to ship- no matter what you put in them. It just has to fit in the box. However, if you do that, then make sure you go to the counter and get the big white customs form and fill it out if it's over 3 lbs. I'm just telling you because I got the little green customs form, and now, I get to wait in line.... Again. If you want to do this, and need ideas, let me know.

Must read list from influential women in my life

Lately, it seems like a lot of conversations with my girlfriends all start out with this: "You have GOT to read this book- it's changing my life!" I have my life-long high school girlfriends, my Fort Mill/CTK home group girlfriends, my neighbor girlfriends, my Bible Study girlfriends, my book club girlfriends, and the list goes on. I am VERY blessed that way... all the girlfriends. And all the recommendations.

Yesterday, in our Beth Moore Bible Study- Living Beyond Yourself- Exploring the Fruit of the Spirit, she addressed the importance and influence of women. I am very blessed to be influenced to read the following by the most important women in my life (have read some, some are on the list, still to go):

Fort Mill/CTK home group girlfriends-
The List, by Robert Whitlow- thanks, Melissa T.- AMAZING! Tore through it in four days reading it in carpool line, and after the kids were in bed. They made a movie out of it. Nuff said.
The Power of a Woman's Words by Sharon Jaynes

Life-long girlfriends-
"The Power of a Praying Wife" by Stormie Omartian
Captivating, Unveiling the Mysteries of a Woman's Soul- by John and Stasi Eldredge- This one was recommended by several girls- accross all the circles. Read it, but read all the way through. Some of the best insights are at the middle to the end.
Boundaries, by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend- again from several girls.

Neighborhood girlfriends-
anything by Francine Rivers, recommended by Julia

Girl's Book Club-
"The Five Love Languages" by Dr. Gary Chapman. Okay, so this is an older one, but the girls book club, and Brandi lit the fire under me to finally read it. This book changed the way I love my family, my husband and my kids. A MUST HAVE tool for every relationship in your life!

Enjoy, and happy reading!

All we need is love.

First of all, I seek your prayers for my brother Tim- he has left for 7 months-excited, and nervous, eager to find his purpose.

But, the purpose of this blog is a little deep today. I've been thinking a lot lately about love. There are so many ways of loving someone, so many kinds.

Funny how we aren't born with love. Think about it. When we're babies, we don't "love" anyone at first. It's all about us. What we need, and who's going to meet that need. Take care of us. Love us before we love them back. And slowly, you come to love the person in return. It is nurtured, cultivated, learned.

And then, in my life, came along the "puppy love". I remember hating that term- usually applied by adults who didn't understand that my latest crush was the sun, moon, and stars, and I would NEVER love another. How DARE they take it so lightly?!?

And then, God let me fall in love with my Martin, and I had real stars in my eyes. Martin loved me with all my warts, and I could tell him everything. His loving me, makes me love him even more. There are bumpy days, where we don't feel like loving each other, but we do. It is nurtured, cultivated, learned, and held onto.

And just when I thought I couldn't love anymore than I already had, God gave me a son. And then, for the first time in my life, I knew the meaning of unconditional love. And now another son. And more unconditional love.

I once naively compared my love of my siblings to that of a mother's love. How wrong I was. My love for my younger siblings is so deep, and I do long to protect them, like a mother would. But, even a sibling's love is nurtured, cultivated, learned. A sibling love can be deeply wounded, and even broken over time. Not in my case, Thank God, but I've seen it happen. It's a tragic thing.

But the mother's love I'm experiencing is like no other I've experienced. You don't have to be a biological mother to know what I mean. A mother is the one who loves you from minute one, and recognizes all the potential you have, and the gift that you are, and all that God wants you to be. The one who has to let go one day, but never really does.

I look at my little boys, and I think, how will I be, one day, when a woman comes along to become the number one in their lives? Will I be able to let go, but still hold a place? How long will it be until she understands the depth of my love for the one she loves? Maybe not until she brings her own into the world. I remember being offended once because Martin's mom and I were in a power-struggle over who would treat his cold. I thought she could not understand how I loved him.

So many different kinds, I've learned, and so many more I will, I'm sure.

I John 4:19 (KJV)- "We love Him, because He first loved us."

Into the world of Kindergarten

Well, he went to bed without a thought. Or at least it seemed that way to me. I felt like saying- "Don't you know what tomorrow is????? It's the beginning of the rest of your adult life! Aren't you scared??!??" But no, it's just kindergarten, mom. Calm down.

I'm ashamed to say I don't do this often enough, but after he went to bed, I couldn't resist going into his room, and saying a prayer over him as he slept. I prayed for God to use his little life, to help him remember all we've tried to teach him- especially all those valuable Bible lessons he's taking into a public school, to choose God for his heart at a young age- the sooner the better. I prayed that God will always help him remember how much I love him no matter what. To give him a sense of value, no matter what other's think of him, and to remember that it's only what God thinks that matters. To protect him from hurt, and sickness and sadness. But I don't know if that last part is a good prayer. Those things grow us. But I still want to protect him.

When Martin and I went to bed, I had my good cry. I kept asking Martin if I was nuts, or over-reacting. He assured me that Moms everywhere probably go through this- the emotions. Dealing with leaving your child behind in a big brick building that represents the world. I pulled myself together enough to go to sleep, and wake up with bags under my eyes.

He woke up with bed head, as usual, but today his hair was even more "roostery" than usual. We all laughed. It was so bad, we felt it merited a "before and after" picture for the first day of school.

He got dressed, in his new green polo shirt (his favorite color), and grabbed that Superman lunch box- it has a cape. He's excited about that new lunch box, but I can tell he's already worried what the other kids will think. He's waffled over the choice. He said at breakfast, "Mommy, my tummy feels funny." I tried to explain about butterflies. He said it again on the way up the steps to the school, and I tried to assure him he'd be fine.

He was, too. He jumped right in- ready to go. I walked back to the car, pushing Coen in his stroller, all too aware that it would be his turn before I know it. Another lump in my throat. As I walked, a peace surrounded me. I'll be okay. As long I don't think about it too much.

Vacation continues

Vacation continued...

Sunday followed and we decided to take it easy, and let the kids get in full naps and R'n'R. Trust me, this made all the difference, as they were pretty worn out. We did manage to squeeze in blueberry and raspberry picking at Chip and Leslie's house on Sunday morning. I was commenting to Suzi that is awesome to have all those berries right there, fresh, and she said, "Didn't you see the sign when you entered Maine? 'Maine- The Way Life Should Be'?"

Sunday night was a great time- Mark and Elise had everyone over for dinner. The food was awesome! We got to enjoy home-made blueberry pie that MacKenzie made. The kids played on the swing set, and in Gabby's little pool. Martin and Coen lounged in the hammock. Ahhhhh- the good life.

The next few days are blurring together now- I never can get them written down fast enough... But we visited Portland, and Portland Head Light, and Mason and Martin explored the fort at Fort Williams while Coen and I did a little on-the-beaten-path with-a-stroller trail blazing. We spent another day visiting Old Orchard Beach- the most crowded beach I've ever seen, by the way, and eating at the pier there. Old Orchard has a really cool amusement park like you see in the movies- with Ferris wheels, tilt-a-whirl- the whole nine yards. Mason saw the bumper cars, and went nuts, so we did that together- both of us screaming with laughter the whole time. Martin went for the big-kid ride and chose the log flume and Mason even liked that. I took Coen on the Bear Affair, and he enjoyed it despite his age.

Tuesday night we headed out to get ice-cream at Kimball's Farm Ice Cream. Huge ice cream- Mason and I shared a small Heavenly Mash, and couldn't finish it, while Martin polished off a hot fudge sundae. Apparently all the old cars congregate at the place on Tuesday nights, so that was fun to see- and we all enjoyed the toe-tapping oldies.

Wednesday night, Jerry and Bev had us over for an old-fashioned lobster/corn dinner. Mason got a kick (but didn't want to touch) out of the lobsters, but LOVED eating them even more. After the fact, I asked him what his favorite part was of the whole trip, and he said, "Eating lobster- eating the meat". Way to go, Jerry and Bev.

On Thursday, we headed to Ferry Beach, which was one of my favorite days. It was an inlet area, so the waves were gentle, the water shallow, and the kids could hunt hermit crabs. Another favorite for Mason, I think. Coen actually took a nap in his stroller on the beach while Martin buried Mason and the other kids up to their heads in the sand.

On Friday, we ran a marathon of a day- leaving Maine around 10ish, and heading to Portsmouth, NH for a tour of the Red Hook Brewery, before heading to Boston to catch our evening flight. Our 7:10 flight turned into 7:20, and actually left the runway about 8:05. Not too bad, for Boston, or so I hear. Still, there were several passengers on that flight running to make connections, and several who missed them. Not us, we were home-sweet-home.

Family Reunion

Day 3- Family Reunion

We were up very early on Saturday. We were all going to caravan to Skowhegan for Grampy's grave service, and follow with a family reunion.

It was a good drive, and the kids were starting to become weary of the car, and all the travel. Not too mention the weather. We stopped at one point for Asa and Mason to use the facilities at a local country store, but upon finding there were none, the used nature's instead. Gotta love Maine.

The service was short, and Coen was fussy, so I stepped to the back with him, so that Martin could absorb everything. The Buteau family is so resilient, and there were light moments- including when Lucas almost sat on the urn box. Could've been bad, but we all chuckled about it.

Afterward, we drove a good ways to Susan's house. Mason was thrilled to see her above-ground pool (there's lots of those up there, too), and ready to hop in right away. Martin and Mason jumped in, and Coen and I sought out shade. We had forgotten our stroller at Suzi's but fortunately, Tobey and Micki loaned us a spare one. Otherwise, it would've really been a long day toting him around in the heat. Suzi was worse off, though, being pregnant.

One thing I noticed was that people couldn't talk about Martin's Mom, Lorraine, without tearing up. The talk about her was so positive, and she's left an undeniable void behind. Everyone talked about how she was the "family historian". It was nice to be around all the people that will always remind Martin of her.

Sean, Suzanne, Martin and I decided to head out earlier than everyone else, because the kids were just worn out, and melting down. They all three were out seconds after we got in the car, and they slept almost the whole 1 1/2 hours back to Gorham. We would find that the whole week would be this packed, with the kids dropping into bed at night... exhausted from all the excitement.

Day 2- Kittery and Gorham

Day 2-

Started the morning by enjoying our free breakfast buffet. Gotta love breakfast buffets- cereal, toast, eggs, bacon, danishes- kids (and adults) love everything on there. Martin and I gawked at a fellow diner who we could swear was Jesse Jackson, but we'll never really know. We decided to go ahead and hit the road so that we could beat the crowds heading for the "Haaaaamptons". Suzanne had mentioned that traffic could be unbearable on Friday afternoons heading from Boston- north.

We made it through the traffic easily, and decided to stop in Kittery, Maine where we stumbled upon our favorite thing- an outlet marketplace. We headed into the Trading Post, first- you know, one of those places with all the stuff kids love- lobster and moose everything to represent Maine properly. I found a funny post-card to send to Tim. It showed two lobsters- one in a trap, and the other wearing a t-shirt that reads, "I'm with stupid." If you know Tim at all, you'll know he has a t-shirt like that. Anyway, we managed to make it through with our major purchase being the postcards.

We walked about a mile to experience the local Burger King fare. An older woman chuckled as she watched Coen pitch his sippy cup one, two, three times- it finally spilled all over. She laughed and said, "You've got your hands full, don't you?" Hmmm. Maybe.

We finished out the day by finally making it to Sean and Suzanne's house. Sean was playing golf, and Suzanne was working, so we were met by Elise, Gabby and Lucas. It was hot- don't let it fool you that we were in Maine. Later that night, we munched on tacos, while the kids squabbled over the toys. Tobey, Micki, Asa, Keenan, and I think Jerry and Bev stopped by to welcome us. Lots of good family fun.

Bedtime was a challenge, because we tried sleeping in Lucas' double bed with Coen in our room, and thought the boys would be all about sharing the other room. Not so much. I think Lucas missed his bed, and he was too excited to sleep. Finally, Lucas joined his mom and dad in their room, and we settled in, and the house- brimming with our 3 energetic kids, was up on it's ear very early the next morning.

Boston Fan

I was almost dreading it- our first airplane adventure with our now full-sized family. But, no need. Vacation this go round consisted of 8 days, two kids, 971 miles, and US Air. Final destination: Gorham, Maine.

If my account is long, I apologize, but this is my way of journaling everything. Lots of it will probably end up in my scrapbooks.

I didn't relish the idea of Martin and I toting both kids, two car seats, one stroller, three bags to be checked, and three more to be carried on- onto the shuttle bus, into the airport, onto the plane, back off the plane, back through another airport, and onto another shuttle bus- four times. But, we made it. And with few gliches, and little crying in-between. I made the trek to the pediatrician's office before we left- no ear infections, but she armed me with ear drops for pain, just in case. I used them in all three sets of ears, just in case.

Mason thought the airplane ride was thrilling, and it was fun to watch his reactions. He squealed with laughter on takeoff- causing a few passengers to chuckle. On landing- he said, "WHOOOOOAAAAH!" He's been on a plane before, but he'll definitely remember this one. Coen only had one fussy spell, and Martin handled it well enough that I didn't even know about it until afterwards.

Day One- Thursday

On Thursday morning, we arrived in Boston. Martin called ahead to the Doubletree in Cambridge, and we were so happy to hear our room was ready. He manipulated Boston streets pretty well, and we were at the hotel in no time. I was impressed with the fact that the hotel gave out kids' backpacks with frisbees, binochulars, cards, coloring book, crayons and more. That was a blessing when you're trying to travel as light as possible. And there's just something about playing solitaire in your hotel room that says, "I'm relaxed, and bored... for once." Our room was great, and we had a nice view of the river, the city skyline, and those infamous rowers- "Stroke, stroke"- rowing looked like it would be fun.

Anyway, I digress. We headed out to find some lunch. We took quite a few detours around Boston- thanks to the construction, and ever changing street names. Finally, we paid the $32 to park at the aquarium (we thought we'd visit the aquarium, until we saw the cost of parking). Finally, we walked to Faneuil Hall , and weaving our way through Quincy market was tough- due to the short legs of a kindergartener, and a stroller, not too mention my growling stomach. But the smells were awesome. Talk about the best food court EVER! Hot dogs, pizzas, lobster rolls, seafood, candy, I can't even remember what all. However, with few places to sit, we opted for Bertucci's- which was yummy, and more convenient for the kids.

We watched the kids break-dancing on the streets- which amazed Mason; listened to the street music, and toured Faneuil Hall. Then Martin realized that we weren't really all that far from the USS Constitution. Right. I should've known better. I was fine, but fretted the whole way about the kids being too hot, and worried about the sunscreen wearing off. Mason's little legs couldn't handle too much more, so he took a ride on Martin's shoulders. Now, I'm not sure how far it ended up being, but I think maybe 2 or more miles.

Once we made it, we finally stopped in at the museum about the Battle of Bunker Hill. Our first souvenirs of the trip were wooden drumsticks for both boys. Everyone heard us coming after that. It was worth the walk, seeing Mason on "Old Ironsides". "Raise the Sails!" he shouted, unraveling the ropes that the sailors on the ship maintain. I stopped him before it went to far, but it was perfect. We didn't go below deck because it was so hot, and not feasible with the stroller.

We were going to go onto the battleship, but Mason said he wanted to do that "next time we come to Boston", and then we knew the boys were about done. So, with the return 2-3 mile trip back to the car in the heat, looming over our heads, we decided that Martin would take a cab back to the aquarium while I took the boys in the air-conditioned museum. The time flew, as Mason and Coen beat their drumsticks to patriotic music in the museum store, and Mason was nuts about looking at all the old muskets, guns, cannons, and swords. It was actually fun.

We made it back to the hotel, had a quick dinner at Panera Bread, and the boys were ready to settle down for the night. Not much of a peep from them after that. We settled in to watch TV, and went to bed pretty tired.

A night with the Knights

Last night my wonderful brother Andrew took care of Coen, so that Martin, Mason and I could head out with the home group to the local Charlotte Knight's Baseball game. I hadn't been to one since I was a teenager- actually, my 17th birthday to be exact. This was Mason's first experience with baseball, and I wasn't sure how he'd like it. You know, baseball games can be a bit, well... long. Hence, the babysitter for Coen.

On the way there, Mason wore his Spider Man sunglasses, and confidently told us that "Everyone's going to think I'm so cool".

Let me just say that it was a huge hit. For all of us. The adults had a great time- yapping it up, and of course, watching the game (and the kids antics), in-between our trips to the concession stands. Meanwhile, the kids- 6 total, gobbled up flavored slushy drinks, hot dogs, chips, ice cream and more. Mason enjoyed his "grown-up Sprite", and a full cone of blue cotton candy. I caught a glimpse of my son's generosity as he opened his bag of Lay's potato chips, and handed one to each kid in the group, and then handed one to each adult too.

I really think Mason could've made it through the whole game, but we left about halfway through- due to the kids, and that ever present gotta-work-tomorrow thing. The kids were pretty much still wide-open, though. Wired doesn't describe it as they all flocked together on the way to the parking lot- bouncing and throwing their free baseball stress-balls into the air- driving us adults nuts. Martin joined in, and demonstrated his juggling skills.

As we returned home last night, it was probably almost 10:00pm, and Mason entered the front door singing a song I didn't know he knew... "Take me out to the ballgame...."

Box Tops

The inspiration for this blog came days ago, but since it was late at night, I jotted down the main ideas, and put it aside for when I had time. Today, I visited Discovery Place with the boys, and my experience prompted me to go ahead with it.

Mason is always drawn to the attraction that allows the kids to use pulleys and weights to move piles of pellets from one place to another. Apparently every other kid in the Charlotte-Metro area attending camp this week, is too. I watched him try to elbow his way into the sea of bright green t-shirted camp kids (all of who were bigger than he was), trying to get one shot at the pulley, or rope... none of them budging, or sharing, and most of the camp counselors were oblivious. Mason came to me in frustration, and I told him- "Just ASK them, if you can play when they are finished, that way, they know you're waiting." Sometimes, it worked, and sometimes, I could tell the brutish kids were only giving up their spot momentarily, because I was standing there. It was a free-for-all. And I wondered how kindergarten is going to be.

Last week, Mason attended swim lessons for the first time. His instructor, Miss Sara, had also been his preschool teacher, and wisely requires that parents leave their children for the hour long lessons. This allows the kids to learn, without a crutch or distraction of a parent. I won't lie. As I left that first day, another Mom and I discussed the worries of leaving your child in a 3 foot inground pool of water without YOUR supervision. It's a little hard letting go.

But later, I realized, Kindergarten might be worse. Letting my little boy jump into a pool of "piranhas" wearing pig-tails, backpacks, and i-pod minis. I am of the realization that not everyone out there is trying to raise their kids to be respectful, kind and polite to others- and some of those kids will probably chew others up and spit 'em out. How will he deal with the mean ones? And worse, would he BE one?

School is going to be a whole new ball-game from this end. After all, I just got out myself, didn't I? Oh wait, that was 12 years ago. Yikes. And now, I'm clipping every Campbell's Soup Label, Box Top for Education, and Tyson Proof of Purchase- in the hopes that it might score a few extra brownie points of teacher approval. All the while, realizing that 10 Box Tops only equal $1, and some Mom, somewhere, is writing a check for $500- no sweat.

So why do all that? Because he's entering a whole new phase of his life, and I'd love to make it as smooth as possible- we all survived it right? But, I'm scared, he's not. Maybe the Box Tops will count for something. So if you have any extra, feel free to throw them our way.

Mortar Fire

We only purchased about $42 worth this year. Barely enough to afford a few legal fountains, and some sparklers. I won't lie, there might've been a few others in the bunch...

But as I walked onto the deck, after our "display" was finished- the smell of mortars, and smoke, filled my nostrils. I knew instantly, that it wasn't from our display alone- after all, ours was the smallest we'd done yet, but rather, it was the smell of a neighborhood, even, a country united... for once. Suddenly, it hit me. I welcome the smell of mortars as a celebratory thing. I live in a country where mortar fire, and smoke is a sign of celebration, and not something we fear.

As I looked out over the American's Dream- the row of black triangles representing homes- the American Dream is silouhetted by the pink, blue, and even white of the explosions over Lake Wylie.

It is one of the only countries left, on the face of the earth, where we PAY for the the chance, to smell that smell.... to light something up, not out of fear, or defense, but rather, an excitement, a love for our country, or just because- DOGGGONIT, we CAN!!!!!

I love this country. As I watched the silhouettes across my backyard light up, I wondered. "Am I the only one who REALLY thinks of what this day means?" Am I the only one left who cares? I hope not.

Bittersweet

Thanks to Ang, who posted the question, "is this a happy or sad thing?" in regards to our house being on the market.... bittersweet, I'd say.

Tears come to my eyes when I look at it from an emotional standpoint. The first house we've ever owned. We bought it in a flurry of split-second decision making, lured in by the promise of a free dinner from Outback Steakhouse- just for touring the model. Brillant, right? Hey, we were only 23 and 25- who wouldn't make the trip for a free meal?

I had told Martin that I wanted a cute little white house with green shutters and a front porch (inspired by my Anne of Green Gables love affair of old), a deck, and a garden tub. All the important things in life. I laugh about it now. But then, the guy took us right to it. And there she sat. I was hooked, and Martin wasn't very good at telling me "no" at that point- we were only 6 months into the marriage. Honestly, I think he was too. Hooked, I mean.

The memories surrond me now, 7 years later. Martin and I joined the Arbor Society immediately, because they said they would send us 12 free "trees" for our donation. "12 inch sticks with roots" would've been a better description. But we planted them, and of the 12, two remain- one of them now a lovely Bradford Pear that is growing by our deck, and will next year, probably provide great shade.

Bringing Mason home from the hospital, and seeing that my neighbors had decked out the front porch with Baby decorations and a giant stork on the front door. The CRAZY fourth of July parties- especially that one where Tim burned his hand on the fireworks- Mason for some reason STILL remembers that- even though he was only about 3 at the time (I think). Ping-pong with the guys in the garage; Mason's birthday parties- and now, Coen's first- COVERED in cake- thank you, Mom for handling bath duty; the three of us planting my "Mother's Day Garden" around the deck on Mother's Day this year- scrambling to beat the looming thunderstorm.

Ugggghhh. To leave them behind. But thank God for cameras, and pictures. And this time, don't worry- we're making very careful decisions. We've even enlisted the help of a realtor, AND a mortgage broker. And, right now, I'm about to come out of my skin, because we're so excited, and ready to move on, but God is saying, "WAIT", I think. "But I want.... and it's available, and....", "WAIT". Sell this house, first. I guess. Do any of you know how hard it is to be me, and WAIT???!!!! We bought a house based on an Outback gift certificate!!

Cutest Lil' House on the Block

Cutest lil' house on the block seeks new owner to love. I am a cozy 3 bedroom dwelling with 2 1/2 baths. I am most proud of my bonus room, deck, garden tub, and my perfect little front porch (which I think gives me that charm that others don't have). I also have a great wooded area in the backyard, which gives my owner the chance to enjoy their deck privately when they wish.

My previous owners have enjoyed me immensely, but are ready to move on to a more mature, permanent relationship.

View my online profile, or, check out my virtual tour.

Too Much

It's funny how certain memories and certain people can be forever in your heart. I've mentioned my Great-Aunt Doris in a previous post. This past Sunday, she passed from this life. I'm finding myself surprisingly very emotional over her passing. For some reason, her face, her voice- lots of things about her will stay in my heart for many years. She was my Grandpa's little sister. How often does one think about that- A Grandparent's little sister or brother? I think that's one of the reasons I always liked her. I literally pictured her toddling along behind the young version of my grandfather as a kid.

She always thought of us kids- graduation, my wedding, both my babies. And she loved pictures. Maybe that's where we were kindred spirits. I like to take the pictures. She loved to look at them. Because she always remembered me, I tried to remember her as much as possible. I put her on the list to always send a picture. She always thanked me in her Christmas card every year.

And now, I'm sure I will feel a hole when I mail my pictures out this Christmas. And the boy's birthday pictures this July.

Today we found out my Grandma has some sort of cancer. The details are sketchy at this point- this is all shaking down in the midst of the funeral arrangements for Doris. My poor Grandpa. God will see us all through it.

The Family Reunion is Saturday. Two of the main people won't be there this time. How strange it will be. It feels like cornerstones of my family are slowly being chipped away.

I can't bear to think about it all at once. It's too much.

3 under 5

It nearly gets me every time. That silly, oh-so-convenient parking space... It's right by the shopping cart coral, and it makes it easy to dump the cart after loading both kids in. But, they've marked this one POLICE ONLY now, and I steered widely to park in the open one two spaces down. You know me... follow the rules.

After I've unhooked both boys, and started our trek up to the new "Mommy Mecca" for the Steele Creek area (that is our new Super Target); I notice another woman whip right into that space that I took measures to avoid. "How DARE she?" I thought. "She better hope no one robs the store while we're in here." I watched her exit the car, and glance hurriedly toward the cart coral. She seemed, agitated... Oh well, and I entered Target to fill our our prescriptions for the 3rd round of antibiotics this month.

10 minutes later, I'm nearly run down in the aisle by a two-tot grocery cart... you know the kind. I hated them until I had my second child. Now- they don't seem so bad. I glance at the driver, only to find that she is the woman who parked in the Police spot outside. And then, I realize the reason for her haste. One kid strapped in- about 18 months, one kid strapped in- about 3, and another infant riding in the carrier in the basket. "Ohhhhhhh." I thought. I know that look, the one pasted on her face..... "Just get in, get out, and get it done. Everyone OUT OF MY WAY.... Baby, please don't cry, SIT DOWN! No, you can't have a cookie from the deli!" The desperate, haggard face of an over-tired Mom. Dressed to kill in her crumpled fund-raising event t-shirt, mom-jeans, and tennis shoes.

Don't worry girls... I'm not talking about anyone we know, but it might as well have been... I wanted to help her after that. "Can I carry your bags? Open the door for you? Do you want the Handicap spot?"

There really ought to be a tag for that.... "I can park here because I have three kids under 5!"

"Bearing Gifts as if they're burdens... This is how it's been..."

Friday, 5/4/07

As Ginny Owens says- I've been "bearing gifts as if they're burdens"... Sometimes I feel that people run from me, so that I will not start in on the latest long list of complaints. I feel sometimes that my life is one long list of complaints. I swore I wouldn't become this way, but I feel it's a losing battle.

Why do I have so much to complain about, when I have so much to be thankful for? The end result is guilt. I feel so guilty all the time. I have tried so hard to hand this guilt over to Christ, but it always gets in the way.

That's probably the reason why I write this blog- it is a desperate attempt to focus on the good in my life, instead of the things that truly bother me. Even the name- "My Surreal Life"....

I want and TRY so hard to be happy. Maybe that is where I fall short- TRYING so hard. And then when it doesn't happen that way, I feel like a failure, and then guilty for not doing enough to achieve it. The funny part is, I KNOW that I can do nothing to achieve happiness. Happiness is a moment to moment choice, made in the Lord.

Lately, when I feel the worst, I pull out my Bible, flop it open, where it may, and read a chapter. It has done wonders for calming me down.

The stress is the worst part. Dealing with the "day to day living" is wearing me out. My beautiful boys, are wearing me out. My lovely house, that never seems to stay clean, is wearing me out. My job, that seems to be taking off- is wearing me out. And suddenly, all the blessings in my life become burdens, and I'm not enjoying them. I'm tired.

I will just keep plugging away. Pulling out my Bible when I feel so overwhelmed- counting on God to help me catch my breath.

Star Gazing

What is the most relaxing thing you've done lately?

Last night my little boy came up with the best idea ever. We were sitting at the dinner table eating, when he said, "Are we gonna lay down on the ground and look at the stars tonight? Daddy said we would..." Huh? Where'd he get that idea from? Martin answered, "Oh yeah, I told you we would." I asked Martin if that was his idea, he said- no, Mason came up with it all on his own. So, I asked Mason the obvious... "Oh, did you see that on TV or something?" "No," he said, "I just used my brain, and thought about it."

And so, after we put Coen to bed, we grabbed the outside blanket, the cd player- we felt that some music from the Romantic period would be appropriate, and headed outside. The citronella candle did a pretty good job of keeping the bugs away- I haven't found any bites yet, today. But, we just sprawled out, and took turns "finding stars" as the sun went down to the west. Of course we used the opportunity to give a science lesson, and talk about how the earth spins, and how stars become stars... all the usual.

But over and over again, Martin and I kept saying to Mason- "This was such a GREAT idea! Why didn't WE think of it?" One of the many things we take for granted, I guess.

Hopefully, that'll be a nice memory for Mason. It was for us.

Public Service Announcement: Check your Dryer Hose

Okay, long story, which will still be a long story. Could've ended badly, but didn't.

About a month ago, I decided that I was tired of living in my pity-party of "I can't get my act together, and my house is wreck", and decided to hunt out the book I read when I was a teenager- "Sidetracked Home Executives- From Pigpen to Paradise". So, I jumped on the net, and found someone who turned that great book, and it's principles into a Get Organized, Get out of CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome) program complete with email reminders, and a starting point. If you're like me, you need someone to hold your hand, and step-by-step directions, and www.FlyLady.net did it for me.

Anyhow, FlyLady is a blog by herself, but that's not the point of this blog. The point is what she motivated me to do, and what I found out as a result.

See, everyday- Monday through Friday, she'll email a special task to focus on, in whatever that week's rooms are. This week, we're focusing on the bathroom, and the Laundry Room. Yesterday, she said to clean the mirrors in the bathroom, and clean your dryer vents and hose. Well, I thought, my mirrors are clean, and I just cleaned my dryer vent about a month ago, thanks to one of those frightening emails about the dangers of NOT cleaning the vent properly (you need to remove it, and clean or vacuum the lint UNDER it too). So, I thought I was off the hook.

However, today, the email conversation still revolved around the infamous dryer vent, and hose. They said you need to go outside while your dryer is running, and check to make sure that your vent has good output. Now, THAT I hadn't thought of. And, it nagged at me, and since I didn't want a potential fire on my head, I decided it was worth checking out. Even though Mason was home from school, and it wasn't really convenient with both kids.

So, I pulled the dryer out from the wall, marveling at the fact that FlyLady had now motivated me to use my muscles, AND a power tool ALL IN ONE WEEK. (I actually drilled the curtain rod into the wall the other day- thanks to Anti-Procrastination week).

WOW!!!! You wouldn't believe the sight that greeted me. I'm almost embarrassed to air my "dirty laundry" over the internet. Under my dryer, I found thirty cents, 2 crayons, lots of trash, a golf tee, and, I kid-you-not- about an inch of dryer lint. Now, I'm really embarrassed about this, so please don't use this as an opportunity to rag me.

I got out the handy-dandy new Bissell, and sucked up most of the lint. I noticed when I pulled the dryer out, that either the hose came off really easily, or it wasn't hooked on to begin with. And, all that lint couldn't be normal. After getting rid of the mess under my dryer, I was ready to hook it back up.

Hmmm. This would be a challenge. I noticed that the elbow thingy in the wall seemed loose, so I grabbed a Phillips head screwdriver (once again patting myself on the back for being so handy), and set out to tighten that round brace thing around the hose. Ooops. The whole elbow fell INTO the wall. Down into the dark abyss that houses two-by-fours, pipes, creepy-crawlies, and Lord knows what else. "Martin's gonna kill me", I thought. I grabbed the flashlight, and shined it around in the hole, hoping that whatever critters are in there, would run off before I stuck my hand in. EWWWWWWWW. I reached in, and grabbed it as quickly as possible. Then, I had to try to feel around, and see if there was a hose in there that I'm supposed to hook it up too. I couldn't feel anything, but noticed the huge pile of lint INSIDE the wall. "Just how long, exactly, had this thing been un-attached?" I thought. Well, I called Martin, and he said to just leave it until he got home. He wasn't mad, he was impressed that I had made the discovery.

Once he got home, it took him some time, but we were finally able to attach the hose. We will never know how long that thing was unattached, but, in retrospect, it always seemed a little odd that the coat closet (directly behind the laundry room) was always a thousand degrees (the air was blowing into the wall, not the vent), and we're thinking it might've also thrown off our thermostat.... who knows how much money we'll save, now that it's done right.

I learned a valuable lesson today- It stinks to be the guy. He had his hand in the wall up to his elbow, and there's NO WAY I'd do that.

And, when checking the flow in the backyard- lint was FLYING out of that vent. Probably for the first time in 7 years. I wish someone had told me before that you're supposed to check that yearly. But, now YOU know.

How easily we forget.

This morning, at the girl's coffee, we were lucky enough to have two of our girlfriends who usually can't come, join us, making our coffee crowd pleasantly larger than usual. Since the CMS schools are out for spring break, we added a few more kids to the mix, too. Next week, it's Fort Mill's turn.

The conversation flowed easily across the normal topics- dogs, house values, schools (somehow this ALWAYS comes up), the neighbors, and our never-ending escapades with our husbands and children. Melissa T., being the mom of four (two of whom are twins), always has an entertaining story.

But, since we were lucky enough to have Debbi among us today, the conversation turned a bit, and somehow we found it had turned to 9/11. Debbi started to tell us the story of how the day went for her. And her husband. They were there. They lived 9/11. He, on the 81st floor of the second tower. We all listened, a rapt audience for the harrowing story that we've all seen played out and told thousands of times on TV. Only this time, it was being told right in front of us. It brought the memories of the day, in a haunting new way. The goose bumps were back. How easily we forget.

On Sunday, I placed the palm branches from church on the kitchen table- spread out, so that we would remember throughout the week. I asked Mason if he remembered what they were about, "To praise Jesus!" he said. I noticed this afternoon, that they have started to wither. I'm sure that by Sunday, they will be small, withered, and frail; and I will sweep them off the table, and into the trash can. Staring at the leaves today, I thought about how palm branches were enthusiastically waved at Jesus, yet forgotten within a week.

How easily we forget.

I'm really glad that 2000 years later, we're still remembering Him.

"Am I Lovely?"

What I'm reading right now: "Captivating... Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul", by John and Stasi Eldredge.

Why I'm reading it: Because, after hearing two of my close friends RAVE about it (thanks, Melissa T. and Jenn L.), I put it on my TO READ list. Now that I finally got around to having the money and time to go buy it... it's proving it's worth.

What I think about it: If I could buy a copy for every single woman in my life right now, I would. I'm trying to think up a way to do that, anyway. Insightful, and full of common sense therapy for little girls grown into women.

I recommend it to: anyone who's every been a little girl or, a grown woman; those who've had their hearts broken by anyone (and those who haven't); any parent of a little girl.

What it's about: being the "Beauty" of the story. It legitmizes the number one question we all have as women- "Am I lovely? Am I valued". Don't cringe, just read the book. It is not a boring read, in fact, it's entertaining, and and insightful.

Since I feel so strongly about the book, I'm going to try to organize a weekly/bi-weekly girls night out book club around the book. If you'd like to participate, please let me know what night would be good for you, and then we will determine the time and place to meet. I was thinking that we could have everyone bring a snack on the night we meet. I promise it would be worth your time. And just think of all the great company!

The Brother's Funeral

This was a day to remember my Dad's uncle. My grandfather's brother. A man I hardly knew, but now know, I should've. Over the last week, I have winced and cringed at the thought of the grief that would follow finding a loved one gone. Especially the one with whom you have spent 37 years with. Your soul mate. Given to you, yet taken away. A father, a brother, a husband, a friend.

The funeral was as I expected it to be...... filled with the King James, and the sounds of gospel songs that have survived many years- (with good reason), filling our ears. Our Hope.

I filed in with Martin, into one of the family rows.... feeling that I didn't deserve to be there- that I hadn't spent enough time to deserve a space. I listened to the description of the man, the words that were a testament to the man that I didn't know he was. How he bought that new minister his new study Bible, how he would press money into the pastor's hand on Sunday mornings, all those things, unknown to us. Later, my sister comment that she didn't know these things about him. I mentioned that I didn't either. "But", I said "it is the ones that do these things quietly, that most often do it with the right heart."

Later, I sat with her... my great aunt. She is looking frail, and thin. Her hair is no longer her own. I can tell that she didn't think that the circumstances would be like this... All of us there, at her brother's funeral. I wasn't sure what to say to her. But, I grabbed her hand, and she held onto it. I was surprised by how firmly she grasped it. I told her, "I wanted to come by and talk to you...." Tears filled my eyes. "You've always been so kind to me." I was shocked when she started to cry. Her once pleasantly plump face crumpled, and her now frail shoulders started to shake. She mentioned the photos of the boys that I sent to her every Christmas, and told me that they mean so much to her. I told her that I'm so sorry for her loss, and how the older I get the more I love my siblings, and how I can't imagine....

She just cried, and held my hand, and then started to make small talk about how he (her hubby) was supposed to run go get the car...

I just want to thank her for always being so thoughtful, and kind.... she seemed to always love to be on the lookout for neat things for us girls....

And I just want to say that I feel the loss of this, my family, deep in my heart. No, I wasn't the closest. But I have felt losses like this, first hand, and I have you all in my thoughts and prayers.

Soccer Game Life

Beka, Kelly, and I sat in the middle of the food court, munching on our nutricious lunches of mall junk food. We all eyed the escalators from time to time- you never know who you might bump into in the town you grew up in, and still live in.

We were already sitting beside the girl Beka went to high school with- Jennifer, and her two kids- one eight, one 11 months. Beka marveled about how quickly time goes by.

It was St. Patrick's Day, and we laughed at the gaggle of green clothed people moving down the escalator. Beka and Kelly have big plans for the night. Not me... I'll be sitting at home with my boys. Could've gone to a St. Paddy's Day dinner party we were invited too, but Martin and I decided to stay in since it's been such a busy couple of weeks. As Kelly and Beka discuss their green outfits, and feather boas for the night, I look up and see a lady from my old church coming down the escalator. She used to be one of my JV group leaders at church. I tell Beka, "Hey, look, there's Mrs. _______________". She says, "Wow, look at her..." I finish her statement with"Yeah, she has aged very well", to which Beka points out that she hasn't aged AT ALL. I guess that's a loaded compliment.

Anyway, I got to thinking about that, today. I started thinking about my Mom, and my Mom's friends from when I was growing up. And I was thinking about Ladies' Bible Study on Thursday mornings, and all the moms bringing in their pot-luck dishes and their pre-schoolers- all to have a morning out. I remember the scene well, since my school was within the church walls. I guess back then, I didn't understand the value of that group. Just looked like a bunch of Moms hanging out to us. But now, I know. It's funny looking back, how things seemed so cliche... the moms. Soccer games, car-pool lines- boring, boring lives. It seemed that way to me.

But now, NOW, I realize they were me, once. And now, I'm becoming them. I LIVE for my coffee day with girlfriends on Wednesday mornings. It is a life-line; one way to have 2 or 3 hours out that might save your sanity for the week. How, when you're husband's out of town, you're all alone, and you NEED those other women. But it's not cliche. It's not a boring, boring life. It's a good, good life. Stressful, sometimes, but good. You can tell from my blogs that I have good days, and I have bad days. But I will say, that on a good day, the contentment that comes from meeting my family's needs is so fullfilling. And the knowledge that I am doing what God would have me to do, right now, at this time in my life, is very rewarding.

I write these blogs, never knowing where they will end up. Sometimes they end up way too long... sometimes too mushy, but I always have this need to communicate ideas, and they form on their own.

So, here's to my cliche, soccer game life. Lord, thank You for it.

Round Two

Ever feel like you do things two many times? My motto now, with two kids is, "It's not done until I've done it twice".

In a snapshot- cleaning those squished peas up off the high-chair, scrubbing down the chair, and giving it a good, detail cleaning... only to have Mason hand Coen (who's happily playing, not eating in the clean high chair) a handful of spaghetti sauce covered pasta. Enter second cleaning, of chair, and baby.

Diligently and carefully planting those brand new geraniums in their flower pots- carefully watering and applying Miracle Gro- only to turn around and see Mason "helping" carry the pot up the brick porch steps... "KERPLUNKKKKK", and down it goes, upside down- Miracle-Gro, potting soil, geraniums, and all. Enter second potting, as well as a good sweeping of the front porch steps.

Wrestling my squirming, squealing piglet of a baby, trying to dress him in PJ's- desperately and quickly attempting to stuff in a leg here, an arm there; only to get the other leg in, and find that he's pulled leg number one back out.

Just a few examples. I won't bore you with more. But, such is my life among the squished peas.

At times, it's hard to find the reward, and the humor among the circumstances. Other times, it's cracks me up. Depends on the day, I guess. Here's hoping it happens for you the first time around....

Squished peas, anyone?

Well, the little bundle of joy shown in my profile picture has now decided that he WILL NOT be a baby any longer.

Today, he reaches the official 9 month old mark, and must've known it because he's letting me know in every way possible. Just in the last week, he's gotten the crawling thing down, and is busy trying to investigate the Spanish moss of my fake Ficus tree, eat the wrapper off the firewood (you know, the store-bought stuff, for us), and chew and go for anything that looks remotely electrical- outlets, cords, and more. Don't worry, we're working on the child-proofing thing, but he keeps thinking up new ways for us to child-proof.

As for eating habits, he now buttons his lips shut, and/or cries everytime we bring a spoonful of baby food towards his mouth. No more of this mushy stuff for him. He's much happier with cheerios, or chopped pieces of pear or peas. Really though, the transformation has happened seamingly overnight. Two weeks ago, he was fine being a baby, but as of today- fawgetaboutit.

And so, we begin the battle of feeding time. Scooping out mushed peas, soggy cheerios, and Lord knows what else from his chair, hair, diaper and everywhere else. The parenting books say to put down newspaper under the high chair, so you can just scoop it all up after they've thrown it everywhere. I have to say.... not looking forward to this part....

The Lost Lamb

The first stop at MGM Studios HAD to be the Star Wars Tours. It was destined before we were born. I live in a family of four, three of which are boys, two of whom are Star Wars "geeks", and one of whom will soon be one, I'm sure. That's the whole draw of this park. Star Wars. It didn't matter if we saw anything else in Orlando.

And so, Coen and I got in line to get the Storm Trooper and Darth Vader's autograph for Mason's autograph book, while Martin and Mason headed in to brave the "flight". The time dragged by, and I watched the gathering storm clouds anxiously while we waited and waited. For real, the sign out front said 20 minutes, and we were at 30 already. I walked through the Star Wars shop- you know how it is at Disney- they always have a shop at the end of the ride, so you can "complete" your experience with a souvenir. I thought about buying a girl's Star Wars tee-shirt... picturing my two guys' faces at the sight of me being a Star Wars Geek. That thought lasted about thirty seconds, and, noting that there wasn't even anything cute enough to be considered, I moved on, exiting the shop and doing my thirtieth lap around the stroller area.

A woman stopped me, and wanted to see the little animal that Coen has recently adopted as his cuddle buddy. I have to thank my Dad's sister Carol for it- he's been dubbed "Lammy", and is the cutest baby Gund floppy, tan lamb. He's very cuddly, and I'd even sleep with him. Anyway, she stops me, and wants to see Lammy... she lets out a little squeal when she realizes it's the same as the one her little girl loves. "She's loved it and carried it for four years now", she says, "it's all gray and nasty now". I told her I know how it is... and explain how Mason has his nearly five year old PeeDee that's nasty, dirty, and now has PJ's sewn on, to hold him together. Her little girl comes by with her Dad, smiles, and eyes Lammy with a love in her eyes tells me she just wants to yank him away from Coen. They move on, and Martin and Mason finally exit the ride.

We move on through the park. Martin and I have laughed because we notice how Coen is CONSTANTLY throwing things from the stroller- the sippy cup, Lammy, the sun hat he WILL NOT wear. It's a problem we've noticed from him alot. The other night, I actually went and bought a pacifier clip, and clipped his teether to his shirt- we were both sick of picking it up off the floor, and cleaning it.

Cut to about 5 hours later. Coen and I are waiting in line for Kim Possible's autograph, and Coen's fussy. I'm digging for Lammy. Can't find him. I motion to Martin, who's waiting in line for Quincy and June (from Little Einsteins) autographs "Where's Lammy?". He can't understand me, so I resort to sign language, cuddling my make believe Lammy and sucking my thumb at him from across the way. Anyway, eventually, we both realize Lammy's gone. We mourn the loss of the very cute Lammy. Martin said that he would check the Guest Services before we leave to see if anyone found him, and mentally, I start window shopping for Lammy's replacement. Maybe a cute squishy Winnie the Pooh will do- or a floppy Mickey Mouse.

Three hours later, we're pooped, the kids are pooped, and we decide to head for the exit instead of hanging in there for the Fantasmic show. I was wishing I could hop up in Mason's rented big kid stroller, and have him push ME for a change. Martin decided to run over to the Guest Service while Mason and I window shopped for the replacement. Nothing was striking me, and we headed out to find Martin.

There he was, rolling up with Coen who had Lammy in hand, thumb in mouth. I couldn't believe it. In all those people, some kind soul had picked him up and turned him in.

We headed into one more store, and to our amazement, Lammy was missing AGAIN within five minutes. I quickly covered the store, recovered Lammy, and proceeded to hook his leg to the pacifier clip on Coen's shirt. Maybe that will do.

The long road down...

Vacation, vacation. What to say...

Friday was a blur- laundry, sorting, packing, loading, and last minute cleaning. Getting four people ready for a 6 day trip is not an easy feat. Cut to 5 suitcases, 1 cooler, 1 pack and play, and two diaper bags later, and we're ready to hit the road. Martin needed to go by a building in Columbia, so we headed out at 3pm, 1 hour later than our planned departure of 2 pm. Maybe one day we'll get it down to an art, and will get out at our planned time, or else learn to plan the right time.

Anyway, we made a mad-dash to Columbia to get down in time so that Martin could see his customers by 4:15. Coen was not a happy camper, and wasn't co-operative. Part of that, we discovered was due to some miscomfort from his seat, and part of that due to a smell that slowly crept up front. Fortunately, we eventually made it to Columbia, but Martin's customers were eager to continue their work on a project and finish up for the weekend, and didn't seem to interested in talking to him. So, we were able to hit the road. Finally. For real....

Coen cried 75% of the drive, largely due, I think to that whole row of teeth that's coming in on the top. Shoney's for dinner, which wasn't bad, but it was one of the only stops for those looking for a hot meal.

Finally, we finished the first leg of our trip, and stopped in Brunswick, Ga for the night. We stayed at the Embassy Suites. They offered a pretty good hot breakfast the next morning, and Mason is in heaven when offered a breakfast buffet.

The drive Saturday went a little better. We stopped at the Georgia/Florida Welcome Center for our Florida OJ and fill up of brochures. I think Mason had more fun "shopping" the brochures, than anything else. Then, we stopped at Wendy's and ate lunch. All in all, not a bad drive, due to the stops.


Once checking in, we decided that Mason had a great idea, and hit the mini-golf course. Mason won for the "most points", me for the "middle points", and Martin for the "fewest points", if you get my drift. We followed dinner with our annual visit to Giordano's Pizza. This place would not be worth it if judged by service alone, but the pizza, MORE than makes up for it. It's about a pound of cheese per slice, though, so if you're watching calories, this is not the way to go.... It became a tradition the first time Martin and I came down together, and has stuck ever since. Deep dish, cheese and pepperoni-stuffed with a pie like crust. YUMMMM. Ask Beka, she knows, now too.

Yesterday, we went to visit Martin's grandparents in Tampa, and Uncle Jerry, Aunt Bev, Elise and Gabby, Leslie and Tucker and Kenzie. So much fun, and Mason had a blast at the pool. I think he's officially ready for swim lessons. Once we left, we planned to stop for fast food for dinner, but once we saw the Outback sign, we decided it was worth cutting accross 5 lanes of traffic for.... It was worth it... we haven't done that in a while.

It's been fun so far... I have more to post about today, but this is getting long, so I'll say, "To be Continued, and Good night".

February Ramblings

Wow! So it's been two weeks since I posted. Since I know I have such a rapt audience, I must apologize. Just joking.

Let's see... what's happened in the last two weeks. My seventh wedding anniversary came and went on February 5. My husband was very sweet as always, and presented me with a very nice jewelry gift. I had no money to speak of, and presented him with a very nice card. The menu included Pizza Hut pizza, a mini cake, and a vintage bottle of Welch's Sparkling Grape Juice. Our anniversary would not be complete if SOMEONE wasn't sick, so all four of us were.... Martin, Mason and Coen with cold/flu symptoms, and me with a really bad sinus infection. We laughed because this is, I think, the third anniversary that we've been sick. The first year Martin had the flu, and we had NO money. I actually dug for change under my car seat to buy him a card. And, since he had the flu, he made me a home-made anniversary card out of construction paper. Ahhhh, the memories.

On our anniversary, we usually take stock of our marriage. This year's been a tough year for us. A new 2nd baby was a big deal. So, between Martin and I, and a couple friends, here's my list of conversations you should have before you get married: identify your TRUE personality; your biggest pet-peeves; who will handle the money, and what your financial pasts looks like; your passions (ie- what could you spend 6 hours a day doing, because you'll probably end up doing it at some point- driving your spouse crazy); your goals; your boundaries; how much time are you and your spouse willing to devote to work and/or separation from family members. I'm sure I can think of more, but these aren't things they tell you in pre-marital counseling- or at least we didn't get those things discussed. These are things I've learned on my own, and from discussions with friends.

Valentine's was great- I decorated the table, and got out the china, and made a Rachel Ray dinner of flank steak over puff pastry with asparagus salad, and Ginger poached pears with ice cream and berries. Turned out awesome, and we had our own little restaurant experience right at home. Just Martin, Mason, and I (Coen could've joined us, but hasn't mastered the chewing thing yet- he only has two teeth.)

So that's that. My February ramblings.

Pressures of the WAHSAHM

I, as a wife and mother, am in a very unique situation. I have been blessed to find myself in a role that most moms would love to have. Some days I'm glad I have it, some days, I'm not.

I have the privelege of being a Work-at-Home-Stay-at-Home-Mom... "WAHSAHM" for short. Notice that it doesn't say SAHM, as in Stay-at-Home-Mom- the term applied to mothers who do not work outside the home. That in itself is another topic for me. Those women work their tails off.... but, I digress.

There are some days when I feel that the pressures of being a WAHSAHM are immeasurable, and insurmountable. I have been in two roles, as a Mom. I have been both full-time employee while being a mom, and now, a WAHSAHM. The reality is, as most women are finding out- you can't give 100% at both (work and family), all the time. You will have nothing left. So something suffers, or you do a mediocre job at both. Please know that I am not picking on Moms who work outside the home. As I said, I was once in that role too, by necessity- but as our financial situation changed a bit, I decided I would try it this way.

Anyway, when I worked full-time- I felt that people (husband, family, boss, neighbors, friends) somehow cut me some slack- if the house was a mess, the laundry wasn't done, or I was scatter-brained. Because, after all- and I heard this lots of times- "you can't do everything!"

Now, my slack dwindles down to nothing. Afterall, I'm a WAHSAHM- (most people forget the WAH, and just think of me as a SAHM), and getting everything done should be fairly easy. I'm home all day, right?

WRONG. Baby still cries spontaneously, and erratically, kids need to eat, lunch has to be packed, house cleaned, laundry done. Clients will call while you're wiping poop, or giving a bath (thank God for voice mail). A quick trip to the computer to check your email for work ends up being an hour-and-a half goose chase to tie up a loose end. And suddenly, not only do I suffer from Mother's Attention Deficit Disorder, but I throw work in there too.

Now, it would be wrong for me to say that I don't enjoy my position. I do. There are days when it is GREAT. I take Mason outside, or we make crafts, or play UNO in the middle of the day. But, there are days like the ones I mentioned, when clients are calling, and I'm giving him the "evil eye" or shooshing him when I'm on the phone. Running around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to decide what to do first- answer that long-awaited return phone call from a customer, or give Mason a snack...

The reality of it is, I am still trying to meet everyone's expectations. SAHMs are supposed to be raising perfect children, and maintaining clean houses, happy husbands, and having play-dates and girls' night outs. I'm striving to do this, while pulling in that extra money we must have every month. And the months when I'm not pulling it in- well, believe me, we feel it.

Martin has told me over and over again, that he doesn't expect those things. The reality of it, is that he does. And he deserves to. He works hard all day, and deserves those things. I want to give him those things. So a lot of the pressure comes from within myself. My strive to give everyone what they want, and what they need.

Some days the reality of those pressures are too much, and I want to sit on the couch, and just be that fabled woman that eats the bon-bons and watches TV all day (does she exist? I doubt it).

The bottom line is, the Bible says it's my job to raise children in the Godly way they should go. Think about the implications of that. That alone is a HUGE job. It's what I expect of myself.

Nacho Phone

Well, this past weekend, my family and I traveled to Jacksonville, NC to visit with Tim while he had his final leave before being deployed for a distant location. We didn't actually know for sure when, and where he'd be deployed, but the 96 hour leave is a signal that it is approaching.

It made for an interesting trip- three cars, 12 people, 1 dog (at least I THINK it was 12 people- sometimes it can seem like 30). Along the way, we stopped to eat dinner at one of the few places along the way- Taco Bell. Everyone was in a hurry to get to the base, and even the stop seemed a little rushed. Or, maybe I was the only one who felt that way- I had to feed myself AND Coen, so everyone was kind of staring at me while I ate. A good girlfriend called me on my cell phone while we were eating, and we had a short conversation. Later, as I dumped my tray, I had the distinct feeling that I'd thrown my wallet away. I walked over to my bag, and saw my wallet, and felt better. Ran to the bathroom, and then came out to find everyone else had gone to the car caravan.

Cut to a couple hours later... we'd picked up Tim, and Martin and I radioed (yes, radio'd- Dyes don't function without Nextels) that we needed to stop and pick up a few things for the kids before we reached the house, and settled in. Walmart was the pit stop. I told Martin that I hoped we could run in, and run out, because at this point it was 10:45, and I really didn't want everyone to unload. These things can turn into all out field trips when you have 12 of my family wandering loose through Walmart. So, I stayed in the car, with the two kids- now crabby, cranky and tired- while Martin "ran" in. The next thing I know- I see everyone making their way to the doors of the Walmart. I start panicking. NO WAY I'm staying in the car with two cranky kids while everyone else does their Christmas shopping for next year. I grab my diaper bag. "I'll fix them- I'll just call them, and put a stop to this before it even gets started". Reach in to find my cell phone.... cell phone.... where's my cell phone????!!!!

I groan, as the instant replay from Taco Bell plays through my mind- the call from a friend, the tray that felt too heavy, the glance back to my bag to make sure that I hadn't thrown my wallet away. Now I know. Said cell phone is now at the bottom of the Taco Bell trashcan, covered in nacho cheese and Dr. Pepper, two hours back.

I won't say what this did for my demeanor at 11:00 o'clock at night, sitting in a VERY SCARY Walmart parking lot, by myself, with two tired, cranky kids. But, let's just say, (when they finally joined me again 45 minutes later), word spread quickly throughout the family, and everyone was scared to talk to me for a while.

Needless to say, the cell phone has been replaced. Same number, cheaper version of phone- that cost $149 more than my much nicer one. Moral of the story- check your tray.

***Newsflash and update on brother Tim****- Tim has had an incident today while working with the Howitzer cannons he fires. A 500 pound portion of the cannon fell on his foot- breaking two bones. He will now have to have surgery on his foot on Thursday, and will have to have 6 pins. Recovery on this has been mentioned to be 6-8 weeks with the pins in. We know that this has happened for a reason, but I'm sure it is very hard on Tim, nevertheless. I can't imagine the toll this will take on him physically, and mentally as well. Please pray for him.

"Mmmmm.... Coooookieeee"

I slap my own hand away, as I reach for the cookie jar, and Cookie Monster's voice echos through my head....."Mmmmm, Coooookieeeee". Then, the voice inside my own head answers, "Cookie not worth it".

Anybody else dieting? Martin and I have decided to join the rest of the world in their New Year's Resolutions to lose weight and live a healthier lifestyle. I'm now entering my third week. I'm down 2.5 pounds. Big deal. It sure seems like a lot of work for the weight of half a bag of sugar.

Several people have asked me why I'm dieting. Because I weigh more than I have in my whole life. Because I'm approaching 30, and my metabolism is slowing down. Because my clothes are too tight. Because I'm noticing fat in places I never have before. Because I initially lost all the baby weight, and have now regained it and then some. Sound good?

I joined the National Body Challenge on DiscoveryHealth.com, and signed up on Self.com for Reach Your Goal. Both have been good tools. I'm sort of cross-using them. National Body Challenge has lots of good for you recipes- and has me using lots of whole grain everything, and reduced fat cheeses. Self.com has better journals, though.

Nevertheless, Martin and I continue to plug along in our reduced calorie diets. We laugh on the phone together- talking about our lunches. Earlier today we were discussing how a bag of Baked Lays can taste so good. We were at a breaking point yesterday, so I looked up an Oatmeal cookie recipe from Weight Watchers online. Even those have 104 calories a cookie.

But now, they fill my cookie jar, and everynow and then, I WILL reach for one... "Mmmmm, Coooookieeee".