Double Dees

Ballin' It Up

2012-01-30T17:34:00.000-08:00

Check out these super-short videos of my little ballers.

The Firstborn Son

Big Dave

Let me just tell you that, for me, there is nothing quite like watching my boys play ball. I love watching them have fun and they're pretty good at it. It used to be 'cute' to watch but now that it's getting a little more competitive {they actually keep score}, it's really exciting.

Proud mommy right here....

Bless His Heart

2012-01-30T17:08:00.000-08:00

Have you ever heard someone say ‘Bless your heart?’ I hear it all the time and even find myself saying it, too. I’d like to preface this post with this little tidbit. I recently listened to a podcast from Craig Groeschel {have you heard of him? He is pretty fantastic!} and he equated the saying of, ‘Bless your heart’ to, ‘You’re a ding-dong.’ Actually, I think he used ‘idiot’ but I’ll go with ‘ding-dong’ since I’m working really hard to live out Ephesians 4:29 in my daily life and ding-dong doesn't sound nearly as ugly. Anyway, keep that in mind.

For those that don't know, Dallas grew up in the country on five acres of land. And then when we moved to South Carolina, our first house that we bought came with nearly a full acre. However, in this new pad, our outdoor space is limited. We basically traded our lot for convenience. I, for one, think it was a great swap and I know Dallas does, too, but our backyard really is ridiculously small and, paired with a ginormous deck {which holds a hot tub that we do not even use}, it doesn’t leave much room for the boys to run around.

Do you think that holds Dallas and his posse back? Let me help you here. The answer is no.

About a month ago, I peeked out in to the garage and found Dallas digging through his mess of tools. He looked a lot like a little boy who was gathering supplies for his secret hide-out. Bless his heart. When I asked what he was doing, he told me he was building a field goal post for the back yard.

I’m sorry. Come again? Because, for a minute, I thought you said something about a field goal post in our back yard. But then he followed with, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take it down every night.’ Oh, well then, that makes me feel so much better.

Bless his heart.

A few minutes later, I look out into our pint-sized back yard and see that ~~MacGuyver~~ Dallas has managed to turn two shelving brackets and a bungee cord into a contraption with which my boys kick a football through. Nice, BigD. Real classy. Although I will give him an A for the ingenuity, I was still not sold. The good news is that he did not try to replicate one he saw in BiLo that was constructed from PVC pipes and spray-painted a nice shade of neon yellow. You know, if I’m going to look at the bright side….

And, as it is with everything else, the boys have moved on from being professional field goal kickers and the bungee shelves have not made an appearance in a good while. Thank goodness. Oh but not because they chose to spend some time working on Legos or playing a nice, quiet game of Scrabble Junior. They’re still outside in that itty bitty back yard but now they’ve become spectators to Dallas’ latest project – a tree house. Honestly, this man that I married cannot be still for five minutes. He has to be doing something all the time. Bless his heart. I sure do love that man but are we not busy enough?

I’m really not even sure how the idea of a tree house came about. My guess is that Dallas muttered something about a tree house, Dagen overheard him {because he has developed this knack for hanging on to every word out of our mouths – selectively, of course} and rallied the troops around the concept. The next thing I know, Dallas is talking with our neighbor across the street who happens to possess some serious wood-working skills and, 24 hours later, we had a detailed floor plan drawn out on notebook paper. This is no ordinary tree house, mind you. In fact, there’s not even a tree involved so I guess it’s more of a fort but with all the bells and whistles. It will be like the Biltmore Estate of forts.

All I know is that after this is done, they had better spend some quality time in it. In case you didn’t know, wood and hardware is NOT cheap. And, although I try not to dwell on the past, we did buy a very nice swing set just before Dayne was born {which may or may not have been a bribe to the older boys in exchange for their word that they would not use him as a human bowling ball until he was old enough to decide for himself} and they were over it in just a few days. Seriously, it took Dallas longer to assemble that swing set BY HIMSELF {remember, I was pregnant and when I’m with child, I am useless}. I just hope this keeps their attention a bit longer. I'm keeping my expectations low in an effort to be plesantly surprised.

Stay tuned.

Goodbye HRA, Hello Payment Plan

2012-01-18T10:21:00.000-08:00

Have you ever been sitting in the doctor’s office and felt like you could hear the sound of money running out of your checking account? I felt that way this morning. And, for once, it wasn’t in our pediatrician’s office. This was actually a visit for Mommy…..with a cardiologist…..that included a ‘to-go’ monitor. Now are you hearing those cha-chings?

You see, a few months ago I started having some weird symptoms but since I tend to second guess myself {and like to see just how high I can bank my HRA}, I blew them off until it got to be too much. When you’re driving down the interstate and start to feel like you might black out, it’s probably time to get checked. Or so says my husband.

So, a couple of days before Christmas, I went in and saw a family practice physician. We ran through my symptoms – heart palpitations, lightheadedness, difficulty breathing. We talked through some of it because I had convinced myself that it was anxiety {and am still wondering if I’m right – in which case I might ask for a refund and enroll in medical school}. Anyway, he wanted to be safe and hooked me up to the EKG machine. The results showed some arrhythmia which I’m told would explain some of my symptoms. The next step was to get a referral to a cardiologist. {insert dark music}

A week later I met with a cardio guy {with the first name of Yogi – how I made it through without asking where Boo-Boo was remains a mystery}. We went through the same set of questions only he wanted to know more. I thought I’d log this conversation because it was comical to me. Granted, this may have been a ‘you had to have been there’ moment but whatever. It’s my blog and I’ll laugh alone if I wanna.

Dr. H: Hello Mrs. Darnell. I’m Yogi ________.
Me: {ahem} Nice to meet you.
Dr. H: Tell me what’s been going on.
Me: {Read above – not him, YOU}
Dr. H: And how long has this been going on?
Me: {Also above if you’re paying attention}
Dr. H: Let’s talk about your everyday. Do you smoke?
Me: Nope.
Dr. H: Drink?
Me: Would that help?
Dr. H : Do you have children?
Me: Yes.
Dr. H: How many?
Me: Three boys.
Dr. H: Well, we can stop right there. That can explain anyone’s problems away. Now let’s move on to family history. Any heart problems for Mom?
Me: I don’t know. We don’t talk much.
Dr. H: Dad?
Me: I don’t know. We’ve never talked.
Dr. H: Grandparents?
Me: Dead
Dr. H: Alright then. This conversation is going well.

I’ll give it to the guy. Ole’ Yogi has a sense of humor which I don’t see all that often in this profession. He did a little examination but it doesn’t help much when these palpitations that seem to trigger the other symptoms are not an everyday occurrence. Because of that, he sent me home with a 48-hour Holter monitor that I could not take off. Not even to shower which was just gross. However, they did tell me that I could ‘sponge bath.’ Right. And how exactly does one do that and actually feel clean?

Oh and the best part about my little electronic friend? He came in a….wait for it…..FANNY PACK. I wore a flippin’ fanny pack for 2 days {working days, I might add}. Um, hello? The last time I wore a fanny pack was in the 4th grade, it was pink and Joey McIntyre’s face was on the front of it. This, my friends, was not that cool….and I’m not nine years old. On the other hand, I knew that if I didn’t wear it, I would have ultimately owned it from dropping it in the toilet. Conformity at its best.

Fast forward three weeks. After I wore that dumb monitor, all along trying to hide the ridiculousness of its carrying case, wouldn’t you know, I didn’t experience one ‘episode.’ Naturally. So I went back in this morning for the results to which I was not surprised at all. They saw a few skipped beats but nothing to be concerned over. I told him that the episodes are so random and I can’t correlate it with anything but to say that they just come and go. I actually expected him to tell me that I was cuckoo and that I just need to simplify my life and relax. For the record, that feedback wouldn’t have gone over well as my million-dollar-diagnosis because how exactly does one just wake up and choose that path?

Instead, he informed me that we had to keep digging for the answer and that would require – you guessed it – another monitor. Only this one stays on for a month. And, according to the technician that suited me up, it transmits directly to the company who then will call me if they receive a ‘bad’ signal at which time they’ll tell me to go to the ER or call my doctor. As much as I want to get to the bottom of this issue, I’m not looking for one of those phone calls. I mean, who wants to hear, ‘Hello, Mrs. Darnell? This is ABC Heart Monitor Company. You’re about to have a heart attack/stroke/aneurysm. Please proceed to the nearest hospital.’ Just sayin.’ Send me an email, Toots.

Now, before you start thinking of how nasty my pits will smell from the 30-day timeframe, I will have you know that I can remove this contraption for a quick shower. That was definitely a deal breaker. And, although this monitor isn’t strapped to a string around my waist, it is riding in a holster-type carrier that makes me feel like I should be able to draw it out like a gun and taze someone. Seriously, in this day and age, can they design a monitor that is not as big as a 1998 cell phone strapped to my belt loop? I’ll add that to my comments and suggestions when I ship this bad boy back.

Don’t get me wrong – I know it could be worse. We’re not talking hospital bills, just physician and diagnostic charges, but those alone are probably going to run the same as a year’s worth of car payments….except I don’t get a new car, just a monthly invoice with Yogi’s name on it.

And since I’m turning my glass over, I’m going to reflect on the fact that we have not graced the doors of the pediatrician since May {with the exception of a round of flu shots}. So far, our little people have managed to avoid the typical stomach bug and strep throat mess. In my opinion, we’ve had our fair share for the last seven straight years. We were due a break.

So, all in all, I can’t complain….except I just did about 72 times, huh? It’s not me, it’s Manny the Monitor.

Justifying My Guilt

2012-01-07T14:24:00.000-08:00

NOTE: Roll your cursor over to the right hand side, scroll down a hair and pause the music so that you can hear the videos.

Captions really aren’t necessary for these videos. It’s just Dayne being super cute. I choose to remember these moments over the ones where he is pitching his two-year-old tantrums in an effort to show me who’s boss {and some days I actually wonder that myself}.

And, no, we aren’t always in the car…..it’s just when he’s at his peak of CUTE. That, and when he’s nestled, all snug in his bed….those are extra sweet moments. And he's only cute in the car when books aren't flying at my head. Just to clarify because that is NOT cute.

Alright. Let’s go ahead and address the elephant in this cyber room. Yes, it is true. I post a lot of videos of Dayne. Maybe you’re wondering if I’m still the mom of three. I will assure you that I am but, before you start judging me, let’s get something straight. When Dagen was born, I had LOADS of time {even though I didn’t even realize it}. PSA for one-child parents – if you plan to have more, this IS your free time. Enjoy it. It only vanishes from here.

Ahem, so, because of all that ‘free time,’ Dagen has three elaborate scrapbooks that one day he will appreciate.

When Big Dave came along, the schedules got busier and middle son only has two scrapbooks {but more like pictures on paper} to someday cherish. Are you seeing a theme here?

When sweet little Dayne made a surprise entrance almost three years ago, I was dealing with one boy starting school, one boy mastering the art of potty training and one husband who returned to the basketball court as Coach. There was ZERO time to pull out my stickers, glue dots and stamps and record his first two years. Wait, I take that back. He has two pages – his birth and his first bath. Because that first bath is really a monumental step in his walk of life?!?

Anyway, my point is that this blog is his scrapbook and, at this point in our lives, he’s lucky to have that. I rarely find time to blog anymore, even with my new schedule, but try to jot down a few things, snap a few pictures and tape some footage of his third-child-awesomeness. That, my friends, is why he makes the blog a little more than the others. I may not have all of his statistics or when he first walked and talked but I'd like to think he'd prefer to hear his precious singing over that other 'stuff' anyway. Uh huh, I'm justifying my slack. And it's actually helping the guilt.

Besides, if I posted everyday videos of Dagen and Davis, you would be appalled at how many times they pass gas from one end or the other in a 30-second-interval. If you think I'm kidding, come spend an hour with me. I dare you. And if they're not having fun with flatulence, they're 'stealing' Dayne's buttcrack, throwing it on the front porch and laughing while they watch their baby brother search for it. Where did they come from?!?

That's all for tonight, friends. I hear Dayne screaming from a closet and lots of snickers from the peanut gallery. I'm off to do a search and rescue. Just one more on the long list of Mommy duties.

Paul To My Rescue

2011-12-27T09:13:00.000-08:00

It’s been such a busy month that I almost forgot to update you on our excitement. NO, I am not pregnant. Good golly, wouldn’t that be something? I think my poor husband might turn completely gray overnight instead of one hair at a time. And FTR, I think the gray sprinkled into his dark blonde hair is H-O-T!

Remember when I told you last month how, because of sweet Davis’ video, we had been invited to the HisRadio Holiday Gala? Well, we went in early December and it was so neat!

Now, let me tell you that we weren't invited to just be at the dinner. When they asked us to attend, they had also asked if I would be willing to film a short video telling a little bit about that day that we made the video and how I felt watching my little guy praise Jesus. Of course I said yes – how hard could that be?

They made it super convenient for me – they actually came and filmed over lunch one day so I didn’t even have to miss any work. It went really fast, they seemed to think it would all look great and that someone would be in touch to let us know when and where to be for dinner. Whew. The hard part is over. Or so I thought.

About a week before, they called to let us know that we could invite up to ten people to share this night with us. Well, that was a no-brainer. We invited Davis’ K-3 and K-4 teachers {who we LOVE!} as well as Grandpa, Uncle Terry, Aunt Donna, Austin and then, of course, me, Dallas, Dagen and Davis. What a fun group! Where was the youngest of the Darnell boys? **Read to the end to find out.....

On this phone call, they also asked that Davis and I come the night before to be a part of the rehearsal. I thought it was a little strange that we would need to be there for that considering the fact that our video{s} was already shot but we went anyway. When we got there, they ushered us back behind the stage where they were doing test runs of the videos and speakers. The stage manager started to ‘mic us up so then I was really confused. I asked why we needed the microphones and she said, ‘Oh, didn’t they tell you? We’re going to play your video and then you’ll have two minutes to talk about……’ At this point, I didn’t hear anything else out of her mouth.

Um, I'm sorry. For a minute I thought you told me I was going to speak. I mean, we're honored and all but you want me to talk in front of….1,2,3....how many chairs are out here exactly? Oh, 700? Is that all? Pardon me while I go hurl.

So what was I supposed to say? ‘No thanks, I’m good. Someone else can take my place.’ Probably not. I just reminded myself that I was a big girl and I could do this, even if it petrified me. I've never been totally terrified of public speaking BUT I've never done it in front of 700, either.

What else could I do? I didn't want it to look lame that everyone else spoke after their videos and we were in the back hiding out like a bunch of chickens. And obviously I knew Davis wasn’t going to say anything. Seriously, now. Of all three of my boys, I was headed to the stage with the shyest of them all. Now, give me Dagen in front of a crowd and you can count on some entertainment – he can shake that thang or give you some hard core up-downs {complete with the grunts and groans}. But Davis isn’t going to even look at a crowd that size, let alone mutter a single syllable. So I just said okay and convinced myself that surely I could come up with something that sounded halfway educated.

That night, I decided not to stress about it {which is HUGE for me}. I truly believed that the Holy Spirit would intervene....and He did. It was certainly nothing deep and profound but it served the purpose.

Now, that’s not to say that I didn’t prepare. I got up early that next morning, opened my Bible and went to Philippians. You can’t go wrong there and it was crazy how I seemed to gravitate to some verses that totally related to our video on how Christian radio plays a part in our family. In Philippians 4:8, when Paul is telling the church at Philippi to fill themselves with 'whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable,' it occurred to me that this applies here, too. Here is what I shared in my one-minute snippet.

Hi, my name is Dawn Darnell and this is my son, Davis. We’re so thankful to HisRadio for allowing our family to be a part of this awesome night.

As I mentioned in the video, HisRadio does play a big part in our family as we apply censorship to what our boys hear but, as I was reading this morning in Philippians, I was reminded that we as adults are no different. The Bible tells us to fill ourselves with that which is true and lovely and pure. As a follower of Jesus, I physically feel the Holy Spirit in me but, let me tell you, the minutes and hours after listening to a little Chris Tomlin or Third Day, I am on fire for the Lord.

As a mother of three young boys, when I’m in the car, the music has a sort of calming effect and sustains me on those often times loud commutes. I am no longer thinking about the driver who cut me off on the interstate – instead, I’m wondering if that same driver knows the Lord. It’s not only the music but also the positive encouragement heard on HisRadio that resonates with me throughout my day. When my ears have been filled with what my heart knows to be true, I am a much stronger witness to those around me. What if, through me, Jesus can touch another’s life? I don’t ever want to miss that.

Thank you, HisRadio, for helping me to be a better daughter and disciple for the Kingdom.

All in all, it went great. I didn’t throw up on anyone, Davis didn’t cry {although I was holding his lanky, kindergarten self in my arms while speaking at the podium} and no one boo’d us off stage. I call that a success! I did ask him if he had anything he wanted to say {because, at his request, he had planned to say ‘I LOVE JESUS’} but all he could do was giggle. I even tried to bribe him with candy in front of all those people and he just chuckled. Better than some alternatives, I suppose.

Here’s the link if you’d like to watch the video they filmed and shared at this dinner which includes clips of Davis’ original. I hope to have a copy of that actual night's event for the rest of our family and friends to see and for Dave to one day watch but, for now, this will do.

Toodles….

P.S. We met THE Rob Dempsey backstage, talked with him a few minutes and even had a picture taken with him but it came out awful. Naturally.

**So where was little man? C'mon now. No one in their right mind would even attempt that sort of event with Dayne the Pain. Thanks to some sweet friends in our 'hood, Dayne had a playdate with their children while we enjoyed a semi-peaceful meal. Why semi? Why not total peace? Well, because first Dagen asked if the salad, already placed on our tables, was 'IT' in terms of dinner and when we told him it wasn't, he said, rather loudly, 'Oh good! I hate this kind of salad. Where's the cheese and eggs anyway?' Once they did bring out the main course, he asked everyone if they knew what asparagus will do to your urine? Where exactly can I send him to learn discretion? He then proceeded to round the table with 'Are you going to eat your dessert? Because if you're not, I will.' Ah, yes. Just another typical meal with our family.....

HoHoHo

2011-12-23T07:57:00.000-08:00

Yes, another classy card. It’s what we do.

Last year we decided that, going forward, we will be home {in our home} for Christmas and I’m so thankful for that right now. We want to establish traditions with the boys and continue them each year. I know I’m looking forward to a nice Christmas Eve dinner, baking cookies for ‘Santa,’ waking early to see what ‘Santa’ brought, and eating a scrumptious Christmas morning breakfast. {Are you seeing a theme here?!? I love eating. Shocking, I know.} I love traveling back west to see friends and family but it’s no easy feat considering the crowd I roll with.

Anyway, I know I personally thrive on stability and continuity that come with traditions – doesn’t everyone? Maybe that’s the Type-A, OCD part of me rearing its ugly self but it’s not so bad. My poor boys have to encounter it every day and they seem to be developing ~~normally~~ just fine. Besides, they have a good balance between me and their complete and total opposite, ‘fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants’ father.

Yes, folks, the stories are all true. Who on earth would want to pretend this sort of stuff happens? I honestly don’t have enough ink in my Pilot G-2 to make notes as I go through my everyday life to blog it. Sometimes I save it in mental memory {why, I don’t yet know} and other times I make a point to find one of those lasers that can erase certain moments that I don’t care to remember. You know, like when he walks around all of Greenville with a hole in the hiney of his jeans but with not a care in the world. He claims he didn’t realize it was there – I beg to differ. I pointed that hole out a week before – his response was, ‘Oh, they’re just fine to wear around the house.’ Um, yes Muffin, but you weren’t just ‘around the house,’ you were OUT.IN.PUBLIC.

There are worse things, right? I mean, at least his pants didn’t fall to his feet for all the world to see his Buzz Lightyear undies like they did with Davis last night in Bi-Lo. Do you think Davis was embarrassed? Nope. He just giggled. That kid is not only the spitting image of his daddy but has the exact same personality. Dallas doesn’t think so, probably because Davis does a good bit of crying when he doesn’t get his way. I’m not sure that doesn’t convince me even more that they are identical…just sayin'.

His rebuttal to that would probably be how I threw a fit when he moved Inflatable St. Nick to my front porch and he would be right. I did throw a two-year-old tantrum but it was well warranted. And guess where the fat man is right now? Here's a hint - NOT the front porch.

See, we've got all sorts of crazy in this family. Just like naughty is the new nice, neurotic is the new normal.

From our cuckoo house to yours - Merry Christmas, y’all!

Now This Is The Life

2011-12-12T14:55:00.000-08:00

By 3:30 this afternoon, I was home with all three boys, snack was over, homework was done, a load of laundry was spinning and I was fully immersed in a cut-throat game of Uno with Davis.

It.Was.Awesome.

For now {and hopefully the foreseeable future}, this is my new schedule. It will allow me to pick up my boys from school every day, help them with their homework, tidy up my house a bit, prepare dinner and just balance out my life a little better. Thank you LORD! This is a dream come true – to maintain my career all while caring for my family. I could not be more excited and feel more blessed than I do right now. Yes, I love my job but I love my family way more.

Excuse me while I go hang with my little men and watch ‘Remember the Titans’ for the ten-thousandth time and that is NO exaggeration – I have some serious football lovin’ boys in this house. It’s a shame that I can’t get over that nightmare of a helmet crash that keeps me from agreeing to let them play any organized football. A backyard game with their father will have to be enough for now.

Will You Help?

2011-12-08T15:59:00.000-08:00

Break my heart from what breaks yours
Everything I am for your kingdoms cause

If you keep up with my blog, you probably recognize the beginning of this post. I started one exactly like it back in June but as I was cooking dinner tonight with Davis, this song {Hosanna} was playing on my Pandora station and it was so fitting for this post.

As I mentioned about a month ago, I volunteer at Pendleton Place Children’s Shelter with my girls. Although I can’t go nearly as much as I would like, I think about those kids all the time. And, given the fact that I have small children, I obviously have love for the little ones but there’s a special place in my heart for the teen girls. As the Christmas season is upon us, I’m asking for your help.

You see, these girls that are placed in PP will spend Christmas with the volunteers - instead of their mom, dad or grandma. I am not trying to discount those volunteers because they are awesome and will be sacrificing their holiday to be with these children but it’s still sad, no matter how you look at it. My family has been so very blessed. My children will wake up on Christmas morning and be overcome with joy by all the many gifts they receive. However, unless donations roll in, these teen girls will wake up to a pair of socks and some pencils. Okay, maybe that’s a little extreme. But it will likely be one filled with lots of tears, sadness and heart ache. What I do know is that it won’t be like our Christmas - yours or mine.

But what if it could be like ours? What if we sacrificed just a fraction of our luxuries and donated to make Christmas happen for these girls? So maybe we don’t have Starbucks one day a week for the month of December? Or how about forgoing that weekly house cleaning just once? That could buy a flat iron or a super cute pair of rain boots for that freshman girl just trying to fit in at school during this rough time in her life. Even a $5 or $10 gift card to Wal-Mart or Target can go towards the purchase of a young girl's ‘wish.’

Listen, I know that money is tight and that ‘extras’ may be a thing of the past. Our family is feeling the crunch, too. We can’t afford to give a lot but these girls are already doing without where their families are concerned. Clearly we can’t do anything to help those situations but we can help to make their Christmas at Pendleton Place a little more enjoyable.

To find out more about making Christmas special for a teenage girl, go here and click on ‘Holiday Help Information.’

If you are interested in making a donation, please contact Leslie Whiteside at 864-467-3650 or email her at lwhiteside@pendletonplace.org. I’m also planning a trip to PP on 12/19 so I’d be happy to deliver any of your gifts on that visit.

Break my heart for what breaks yours. This speaks to the deepest part of my heart. I pray every day that Jesus will let me see the things of this world that grieve him. Is it because I like to feel sad? No. Of course not. It’s because when my heart breaks, I don’t forget. And when I don’t forget, I am moved to action. If that’s what it takes, then break on…..

Oh the Memories

2011-11-27T18:08:00.001-08:00

We did it. We actually made a trip back to Missouri and had no major drama on the drive. This means one of two things – either my boys are reaching new levels of maturity or I’m moving into a state of oblivion. Or perhaps a little of both. And note that I said no major drama – in our family, there is always something to write about. Oh and I only took one picture on Thanksgiving from my phone so if you’re reading this post for pictures, turn back now.

We kept our normal schedule of leaving after work on Friday and driving for a couple of hours before stopping for dinner in NC. This time we chose to keep it classy with a hearty Shoney’s seafood buffet just outside of Asheville before continuing along on our 14-hour overnight journey.

Yes, I do realize that there are plenty of dining options but we just seem to ‘fit’ in at Shoney’s and don’t get near the stares from the fellow patrons when the little people are feeling flamboyant {unless it’s 7:00 on a Tuesday morning and we’re interrupting the Red Hat Club’s weekly breakfast meeting}. Although, now that I write that, I am remembering the older couple sitting across from us, not speaking to each other but instead studying their smart phones intently, and clearly annoyed by the loudness of our table. Maybe it was throwing their concentration off in their evening Scrabble game ….I don’t know.

After Dayne got spooked by Shoney the Bear and Dagen announced to the dining hall that his daddy needed to take a pill so that he could eat the fish without having an allergic reaction, we paid the bill, took a potty break and headed out.

And speaking of potty breaks, we had to take a few more than usual on the way out and, for whatever reason, they begged to not go inside the truck stops and just pee-pee in a cup. Now, after our Disney drive, I was not looking to make this a routine part of our traveling but it’s really a lesser of two evils – either I smell the odor for a minute and pray their cup doesn’t runneth over OR I wonder what sort of germ they will pick up on the door handles of the public restroom so whatever…..they peed in a cup and I got over it. It really is easier. There, I said it.

Have I mentioned that I don’t sleep at all on the drive? Dallas doesn’t seem to have any trouble when it’s my shift {and why would he? I’m awesome behind the wheel!} but I just cannot seem to fall asleep when he’s driving. I don’t know that it’s entirely because his driving scares me but it could have a little to do with it. I mean, come on. Whenever I do finally fall into a semi-REM deep sleep, it doesn’t take long for Dallas to run over on those loud shoulder bumps that will sit you straight up in your seat with fear. After that happens once, I’m done. Oh well, right? Don’t get me wrong - I want to meet Jesus but preferably in my sleep and not going over the side of the Smokies. You know, if I have any say at all….

As we were rolling on I-24 through Kentucky, I recognized a familiar exit and was taken back a few years. Have I ever shared with you the craziness of our move to SC? I’m not talking about how the whole story played out to how our move came to be but the physical relocation. I flipped through some old posts and I don’t think I’ve ever blogged about it and simply must because it is definitely unforgettable. No, wait. Unforgettable sounds peaceful and romantic and this disaster was anything but peaceful so we’ll go with notable.

Ahem. We pulled out of the Show-Me-State with Dallas driving a 24-ft U-Haul truck {pulling our little Saturn on a trailer} and me driving a Dodge Durango with the two boys. Given those memories alone, I almost have a panic attack. Dagen was already excelling in his stellar interrogation skills and Davis had just given up his paci. Oh wait, that sounds like he willingly handed his bink over and said, ‘I’m done.’ It was actually a novel idea from his father that he gives it up before he turned a year old. He clearly wasn’t thinking about the two-day trip ahead of us me.

Day one ran fairly smooth, all things considered. Or so I thought. Somewhere along the way, just a few hours before we hit our destination for the day, we stopped off in Kentucky to fill up both vehicles. And this is where it got interesting. You see, this monster of a motor vehicle that was carrying our life inside also happened to be sucking some serious oil. Each time we stopped for gas, we also had to fill it with oil….and put the cap back on. That would prove to be a key step in the process.

A few miles down the road, we decided to break in Kentucky – Calvert City, to be exact – and stay the night. If memory serves correctly, we only chose this as our stopping point because the boys were screaming and we weren’t sure how much further we had until the next food-and-lodging options would appear {sigh! – this was before the iPhone maps existed}. It was definitely NOT because it was visually appealing. Anyway, we pulled into our motel, locked up the vehicles and hit the sack.

The next morning, we got up, ate our complimentary continental breakfast courtesy of Super 8 {don’t judge – it was a fairly clean establishment, especially given its redneck locale} and headed out. We had a busy day ahead of us that included a trip to the Nashville Zoo and we wanted to get a good jump on the day, considering the scorching temps they were calling for in Tennessee on the first day of June.

Here’s where it got interesting. Here’s where I about lost it. After Dallas loaded me and the boys up in the Durango, Dallas jumped in the U-Haul only to find that it wouldn’t start. Ruh-roh. He got out, popped the hood and probably wanted to cry. Or so I assume. There, in the oil spot, sat the last oil container he had used in place of the cap.

His first thought was that he blew the engine because he ran it out of oil but, before jumping to conclusions, we just decided to drive over to the local auto parts store and buy a cap and a quart of oil. And so after waiting a good while for them to open for business {remember, we were up and at ‘em very early in hopes of leaving early}, we finally got our supplies and headed back to Super 8.

Only the cap didn’t do the trick. After several attempts, the truck still wouldn’t start. At this point, we’re pretty sure that Dallas’ forgetfulness was going to cost us our boys’ college funds from blowing the engine on this beast. We had no idea what to do so we called the 1-800 service number for help. Much to our surprise, they told us they would send out a technician to assist. Oh but it might be an hour. No problem. We can wait an hour. Three {3} hours later and lots of quality time at McD’s PlayLand, the good ole’ boys from U-Haul arrived to help us out.

After Dallas explains to good ole’ boy #1 what we know to be true about the pre-existing oil leak and the recent events of the missing cap, GOB #1 got in and started it right up. What the…..? How did you do that? ‘Y’all didn’t have this there truck in the parking gear.’

Excuse me? Come again? I mean, clearly I should have been singing songs of praise that the engine wasn’t blown but I plead temporary insanity. All I was thinking was, ‘YOU.HAVE.GOT.TO.BE.KIDDING.ME.’ And I may or may not have wanted to shake my sweet, loving husband but I didn’t. All I really recall was saying, ‘Let's go NOW.’

Whatever. We made it here, we love it here and now, as we travel back for visits, we can giggle about it but I assure you, I was not giggling at the time. It was 90 degrees at sunrise and my children were incapable of understanding our delay. Dagen had one thing on his mind – zoo animals – and I was not able to convince him that McDonald’s was a great temporary consolation, at least not until I whipped out cash for their famous apple pies and French fries. That might be when we realized that feeding Dagen junk food would forever be speaking his love language. Listen, you do what it takes to survive….

There’s really nothing left to share about that trip. I mean, what could follow that mess that would be worthy of remembering? Let me answer that for you - NOTHING.

Halloween 2011

2011-11-15T11:37:00.000-08:00

Is it just me or does it seem like Halloween lasts a week now? There’s not just one night of trick-or-treating, there’s a neighborhood party and then a church festival all followed by the knocking on doors of complete strangers in hopes that they give you candy and not an earful for waking their baby or interrupting their favorite re-run of MASH. Maybe I’m getting grumpy in my old age but I felt like this year it was never ending and I was even more afraid that the costumes wouldn’t hold up for three events. Fortunately, I was wrong.

And so here was our line up for this year’s festivities –

*Dagen was a football player, again. You see, if you look back to last year, he was also a football player. Poor kid, he wants so badly to play football for the city or the Y but, unfortunately, I am having serious reservations about him playing. Baseball, basketball and soccer I have no qualms with but football is rough and rowdy and aggressive. True, Dagen’s personality fits every single one of those characteristics and he’s actually really fast and certainly has the physical build of a left tackle but all I can envision is a debilitating hit and I start hyperventilating. I mean, some days I’m ready to hang up his baseball cleats and glove and enroll him in ballet because I know that in any sport he can get hurt but, with football, the chances are much greater. Yeah, whatev. One day he’ll play but for now I’d like to remain in my bubble, thank you.

*Davis was Woody from Toy Story. He actually asked to be a cowboy {because he loves Woody} so as I was trying to piece the costume together, we found out that a fellow teacher of Dallas’ had the actual Woody costume AND it was in Davis’ size so it worked out great. Although we did try to find cowboy boots, we were unsuccessful and I refused to spend a load of cash on a pair of boots he would not wear outside of this costume so we went with rain boots. Close enough.

*Dayne was Robin, as in Batman and Robin, but without the Batman cohort. Even though we had his partner’s costume, the ‘partner’ in this family wanted to be Woody so Dayne was flying solo without back-up. It’s not like he really cared nor did he have a say in the matter. We were going with a goal of zero dollars out-of-pocket and because this was a hand-me-down from the brothers before him, we hit that goal. Well, with the exception of one new football mouth piece for the eldest.

All in all, despite the craziness of the extended holiday, it was fun. They are all at great ages and don’t require so much assistance from us which makes it really nice. And of course the added bonus of sharing in their loot after they've passed out with exhaustion is not so bad, either.

Speaking of loot, did anyone see the ‘I Told My Kids We Ate All Their Halloween Candy’ video from Jimmy Kimmel’s show? Well, we pulled the same prank on our boys and it was pretty funny….borderline cruel but funny. Listen, this is miniscule when compared to the chaos we endure. I like to think of it as another form of free therapy for parents.

I Believe The Children Are Our Future....

2011-11-15T06:11:00.001-08:00

"Teach them well and let them lead the way
Show them all the beauty they possess inside"

Laugh if you like but if you were an 80's {or earlier} baby like I was, you know this song. Everyone loves a little Whitney throw back, right?

In all seriousness, though, I want to give a big shout out to Pendleton Place Children's Shelter. They are doing all that the former Mrs. Bobby Brown sang about above - teaching, loving and leading - the children of our future.

But not just any children. They are caring for those coming from broken homes, many times in the middle of the night, with only the clothes on their back. These children have been abused, neglected and are no longer safe in their environment. PP workers are loving on these kids who have lost all sense of stability and structure, assuming they ever had any to begin with. They are meeting all of their physical and emotional needs and equipping these children for what is next in their life, whatever that may be.

If not for the facilities and workers at PP, there is no telling where many of these kids would be. I have seen and heard success stories that would ROCK your world. The Bible is very clear in James 1:27 that we care for the orphans and that's exactly what these children are - orphans.

Last week at the benefit breakfast, we listened to a story about a sweet boy that, at birth, was addicted to crack cocaine. Now, five years later, he is a vibrant and healthy five-year-old boy who was cared for at Pendleton Place and later adopted by an awesome family. What a great success story and there are many more because of such a worthy establishment!

If you are in the Greenville area, I encourage you to consider donating time and/or resources to Pendleton Place. I can promise you that it WILL make a difference in the lives of helpless children. If you're not in this area, find a similar organization and get involved. If you don't have one in your area, maybe you should open your own.....

If you'd like more information, check out their website. I was honored to be a part of their 2011 Mission Video shown below. This organization really is near and dear to my heart.

"Give them a sense of pride to make it easier
Let the children's laughter remind us how we used to be
Everybody searching for a hero
People need someone to look up to
I never found anyone to fulfill my needs
A lonely place to be"

And now you can't get the song out of your head. You're welcome.

Potty Time

2011-10-27T17:14:00.000-07:00

PSA – I’m ending the numbering of my d’s beginning with this post. It’s too confusing for you, especially if you read a story about d1 pooping his pants and then begin to look at my husband funny because you’re thinking I wrote that about him, etc. So, effective immediately, I will be using their legal names. I didn’t before because I thought I was keeping them safe from child predators but the truth is those people are everywhere and not naming my child on a blog post isn’t really going to keep them any safer. If I wanted to be sure they were never kidnapped, I would have to place them in an underground shelter to forever live as hermits and that is just plain crazy. Now, that being said, if anyone ever does decide to nab a one of my boys, I will hunt them down. Capish? I may not be very intimidating but you don’t mess with Mama Bear's babies. Okay, so now that we have that out of the way….

These days, we’re just as busy as ever but with the added fun of potty training a 2½ year old. Oh yes, good times. I’ll be honest, though – I didn’t even want to start potty training but Ms. Harris, Dayne’s teacher, told me it was time. He was staying dry all day {including naps} and using the potty but losing all he learned when he came home because Mommy was lazy. Not her words but mine. On a recent trip to the park {before we officially started 'training'}, he told me he had to go potty and I told him to go in his diaper. Boy, I bet he was confused.

However, I’m happy to announce that it’s been about three weeks and he’s had only a handful of accidents, which includes naps and overnights. That’s also excluding the twenty-four hour span of time where he either had a small bout of food poisoning or he picked up a digestive-tract-clearing bug on the playground. That was probably my weakest moment where I almost reached for a diaper because I was sick of cleaning up diarrhea every time he tooted. FYI - It’s a whole lot easier to do it with a Pampers on than a pair of undies.

Dayne is also known as Romeo at school. Yes, my baby boy has himself a woman and they are about the cutest little couple I’ve ever seen. Her name is Madison and, according to Dayne’s teachers, they act like they’ve been married for years. He pushes her chair up to the table at lunch, tucks her in at nap and says, ‘No poo-poo in your diaper, Ma-uh-sen.’ Just give them some Depends and a bottle of Fixodent and they're ready to be shipped off to Shady Pines together.

Allow me to present the Mr. and Mrs. of Toddler G....

On a related potty note, I’ll go ahead and mention this, although Davis will likely disown me one day. Earlier this week, Dagen and Davis woke up and, while getting ready for school, Dagen told Dallas that Davis had an accident the night before in bed. Now, they don’t sleep together – they have rooms across the hall from each other – so how did he know this and we didn’t? Well, apparently Davis was crying in the middle of the night when he woke up wet and Dagen told him to come in his room and tell him what was wrong. When he told him, Dagen got up and helped him change his clothes and get him dry bedding before both getting back in bed without ever even waking us up. I was blown away at their team work – Davis for seeking out his brother’s help and Dagen for sacrificing his comfort and sleep to help his brother out so that he didn’t have to wake us up. This is one story I don’t want to forget – especially when almost all other memories are of them beating each other to death. When it comes down to it, I have been blessed with some tender-hearted little boys.

{FTR, Davis doesn’t have a bed-wetting problem. I’m certain he would want that cleared up. He did have a lot to drink before bed and I probably told him no when he asked to go to the bathroom after he was already in bed because I probably thought he was stalling bedtime so shame on me. There, sweet child of mine, is your defense. Please forgive me for the embarrassment.}

Maybe this next tidbit of news will help Dave out in the ‘coolness’ department. Do you remember when I caught him on video singing his heart out to a Casting Crowns song? Naturally, I uploaded to Facebook, YouTube and added the link to the local Christian radio station’s FB page. Well, if you will recall, the DJ {Rob Dempsey} played it on the air one morning and it was super neat to hear my baby belting it out. Even cooler is when I got an email yesterday from Rob Dempsey himself asking me to call him ASAP. I thought it bizarre but did it anyway. He asked if we would be interested in attending the HisRadio’s 2011 Holiday Fundraising Gala on December 6th and they’re going to play Dave’s video for the audience. Isn't that crazy exciting? Ah, my little worship pastor in the making - the next Joel Houston....

Do Unto Others

2011-10-27T16:45:00.000-07:00

Earlier this month when I attended Catalyst, I heard a message from Judah Smith. If you haven’t heard any of his preaching, you’re doing a disservice to yourself. This dude is charismatic and captivating. He leads The City Church in Seattle and his messages are unique but very clear-cut and oh-so-compelling. And he’s probably the only other guy besides Steven Furtick that can pull off skinny jeans. That doesn’t mean I don’t still think they look funny but I don’t cringe as much….

Anyway, when I came back and shared with Dallas, he started listening to Judah’s podcasts and can’t get enough of them. You should check them out sometime. BEWARE –you will quickly become an addict. There are worse things than being addicted to sermons, right? Nod your head, the answer is yes.

I’m not just rambling on and on about Judah – I do have a point to this story. A couple of days ago, Dallas came home and was telling me about the message he listened to earlier that day. Judah does something with his children that we’re starting with ours. When Dallas drops Dagen and Davis off at school {which very soon might be ME doing – WOOP – and picking up – double WOOP}, he reminds them of three things, a pact of sorts – ‘Because we are Darnell’s and we love the Lord, we are going to:

1) Be kind
2) Be encouraging
3) Look for lonely people

Simple yet pretty profound, right? We know it might take a while for some of it to really ‘click’ but I think it’s a great reminder each morning for how they can be more like Jesus with those three easy actions.

It’s weird that this happened – Dallas hearing that sermon and having that lay on his heart – because it triggered some memories from my past that I guess I’ve tried really hard to repress. It just so happens that these memories cover all three of the above actions - or, rather, the lack thereof.

When I was in the 4th grade, we lived in Massachusetts. There was a classmate of mine - we’ll call her ‘Callie’ - who I assume had some developmental delays and it was pretty obvious that she was from a very poor home. She talked funny, her hair was always a hot mess and her clothes were usually the same three sweat-suits rotated out. But what I do remember is her trying so hard to ‘fit in’ with the other girls, particularly me. She wanted to and tried so hard to be my friend yet all I wanted to do was make fun of her. While I made my friends laugh, I made ‘Callie’ cry - daily. I was a ruthless, wretched bully.

Here I am, two decades later, and I am just sickened by my behavior. That was someone’s child! That was somebody’s baby girl that I treated like garbage! Who on earth did I think I was to act like I was any better than her? I wasn’t wearing Z Cavaricci jeans and K-Swiss, either. I was poor, too, but apparently I figured that if I kept the attention on ‘Callie’ being underprivileged, no one would notice I had the same pair of pants on every day.

I’m not really sure what I can do now. We moved after that year and I never saw her again. Even if I ever find ‘Callie’ now, on Facebook or by some other means of communication, it will never make amends for the person I was or the things that I did to her but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.

You know what’s crazy? I can remember all of these details about ‘Callie’ yet I can’t even remember what we ate for dinner last week. As much as I’d like to forget, I think I was supposed to remember so that someday I would feel the burning conviction in my soul and turn it into something good. Maybe it has something to do with my burden now for the homeless, the impoverished, the hopeless. Maybe it’s just another way God is going to use something I did that was so awful to bring Him glory. Just maybe.

I know you hear that ‘kids are just mean these days,’ that it’s ‘normal’ and all a part of growing up but it’s not. It’s never normal and it’s never okay. Just because that’s how it’s always been doesn’t mean that’s how it always needs to be. Teach your children to love themselves and love others like Jesus loves them. Imagine a world where we all applied the Golden Rule. It is not impossible – nothing is. {Luke 1:37}

Pumpkin Patch 2011

2011-10-16T14:14:00.000-07:00

We headed out today after church to a local pumpkin patch. I was able to snap a few pics of the crew but, believe me, it was no easy task. Here's just a sample of the many complaints --

'Why do you want another picture?'
'AGAIN? You just took one of me with a pumpkin.'
'Oh my gosh, I'm so tired of smiling.'

The next time I convince myself that we're ready to skip on over naps to do something fun, remind me that it's not worth the headache. Sunday has and always should be a day of rest and that goes for the entire family.

Just to prove that I wasn't kidding about the aversion to posing--how's that for a Cranky McCrankster?

For whatever reason, his tune changed a few moments later...probably after someone mentioned ice cream...

Darnell boys posing as farm animals, though d2 and D1 need to switch places if we are correctly matching

Loving the 'punkin'

This shot looks like they're all co-existing peacefully when, in reality, they were just breaking from the argument of whose turn it was to sit in the seat

C'mon Muscles!

Photogenic little guy

Is this really necessary? D1 insisted we all sit on the pumpkin, even me.

Let the record show that I posted these within hours of our visit. That never happens but since the Daddy and his boys are attempting to burn down tree stumps in the backyard this afternoon, I figured I should seize the moment to be productive. And by productive, I don't mean cleaning my filthy house. Besides, given the methods they're using to burn said stumps, I may not have a house to clean after they torch the ground on which it stands....

Awakening

2011-10-14T17:34:00.000-07:00

As you read this, do you hear anything? If not, turn your speakers on and CRANK.IT.UP.

I wasn’t planning to blog today during my lunch hour but when I heard this song, it ‘inspired’ me to throw a few sentences together and call it a post. This first song in my play list says so much about where D1 and I are right now in our lives and I am overcome with joy and happiness. We have been physically, emotionally and spiritually rocked and there is nothing like it.

Our eyes have been opened to what matters in this life, what is truly important. It’s Jesus. Only Jesus. We live in this abundant life because of His love, because he rescued us from the chains of our sin.

And to add to our recent ‘awakening,’ I was fortunate enough to attend an amazing leadership conference last week in Atlanta called Catalyst. Oh-Em-Gee - it was one of the most incredible experiences ever. I could blog for hours on how it impacted me but you still wouldn’t understand how phenomenal it was. I will say this - if you ever have the chance to attend, do not pass it up. Period. Only thing it was missing was my sweet hubs who stayed behind and allowed me to participate – forever grateful, BigD!

When I say He’s blessing, I mean He’s REALLY blessing us. Are we loaded down rich? Not with money but with the things not of this world we are. Yesterday was just one more example of Romans 8:28 in my life - how He works all things to the good of those who love Him. Though I can’t share just yet the details, I will soon and I am ecstatic but all the glory and gratitude goes to my Provider. It’s nothing I did fo’ sho!

Do you consider me some sort of Jesus ‘freak’ now? Because you should....

Whatever

2011-10-10T18:22:00.001-07:00

Life is crazy....again. No time to blog....again. Whatever.

When I was thumbing through pics on my memory card, I realized that I didn't upload several good ones so I'm just throwing the pictures up here with some quick captions. If the photos aren't self explanatory, come up with your own story but make it good. And if your story involves boogers or BM's, you might be right on.

Check out the creeper in the background.....he is such a goob

Memorial Day visit from S&K and their sweet twin girls, Ava & Cora

d2's last day of K-4

Summer Baseball 2011

Pay special attention to this funny shot. The cupcake was so irresistable that it had to be eaten during the team prayer....for once, it wasn't a child of mine.....

A City Girl Can Survive

2011-09-22T17:33:00.000-07:00

I survived.

A bear did not attack me, a bug did not bite me and I did not have to substitute dry leaves for TP. And for those things, I am extremely grateful.

However, it wouldn’t be an accurate reflection of our mini get-away if I didn’t share the minor details.

On our way to the state park, which is about 45 minutes from our house, we passed a Starbucks. And, since I was driving, I decided that, yes, I would love to start my trip off with a Salted Caramel Mocha latte, thank you very much. Especially since it was cloudy and cool and the weather people were forecasting chances of rain. Aside from a forest fire or being invaded by skunks, that would probably be right up there as worst case scenario for me so I was praying that the rain stayed away. And it did, thank goodness.

As we made our way up the hill to our campsite, I will admit that I started to have difficulty breathing. Because of the elevation changes? Okay, I’ll go with that. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that, with every turn, I watched the bars on my phone decrease. Not power bars but service bars. Once we reached our ‘stomping ground,’ I not only had no signal, I had the dreaded ‘No Service’ indicator.

Seriously? No, really. What am I supposed to do all night? I can’t get texts? No status updates? This is 2011, after all. Where are the towers? Surely someone at AT&T can climb a few oak trees and set something up. After I had a speedy meltdown alone, I did what I had to do. I turned my precious little friend off for the night and proceeded to unload.

We spent the rest of the evening visiting with friends while the kids played football. After dinner, we did what was probably my favorite part – roasted some ‘mellers and made some S’mores. I’m pretty sure I ate my weight in those darn things and I enjoyed every last drop.

Soon after that, we headed to our tent for the night. Oh my word, it was painful. And cold. Not the see-your-breath cold but a damp cold, nonetheless. Although the tent was set up on an official camping pad specifically designed for tents, the ground felt like a concrete pad. We only had blankets under us {no sleeping bags – we’re amateurs, remember?} because an air mattress wouldn’t fit. After we all lay down, we covered with about three blankets along with scarves and hoodies.

Five minutes after we are all buried in blankets, d1 says he smells something on his hand. We told him to just forget about it, that it was probably something from his last bathroom trip {ick!} and to just go to sleep. Then he jumped and said something was crawling on him. We put a light on him to find he had smashed half a spider and was holding the rest of the remains in his hand {he thinks he smelled his blood - what in the world?}. That gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling that makes you want to go back to sleep, doesn’t it? Good thing I couldn’t if I wanted to.

Thinking back, it’s funny how my fears changed. Before we headed to camp, my fear of going to sleep in the tent was that I would wake up in the belly of a wild beast. Once we actually got there and lay down for the night, I realized that I was more afraid to turn over for fear that I was going to hurt my back. Now if that doesn’t show my age…..

In any case, the night was long, I woke up bruised on each hip from attempting to change positions BUT I did not go to the van. Yes, I am quite proud of that.

And I’m not the only paranoid fool in the family. The next morning, when d1 heard a dog bark, he popped up and said, ‘Was that a coyote?’ We said no and he laid back down. A few minutes later, someone was using a hammer and he popped up again and said, ‘Was that a gun? Is someone shooting at us?’ I guess the apple doesn’t fall far, huh?

After breakfast with the friends, we set out for a hike. As much as I’m anti-nature, I can’t deny that it was some beautiful scenery. We made it to the first ‘check point’ up the mountain and headed back down. I did enjoy it but I did also have anxiety over every single step the boys took so 0.5 miles was plenty.

We headed back to the camp site, ate some lunch {we did A LOT of eating in an 18-hour period, which was awesome!} and then headed back home.

So, in the grand scheme of things, I would call our overnight camping trip a success. I did enjoy the fresh air and the feeling of having NOTHING to do. Will I be doing it again anytime soon? Not in a tent. A camper, maybe, but not a tent. I’m too old for that mess.

**Dear Table Rock State Park Marketing Department,

False advertising is not cool. Your website said Wi-Fi capabilities but it didn’t say that the Wi-Fi is only available within 50 feet of the front gate. Let’s go ahead and add a disclosure statement to your brochure to prevent any further headaches and breakdowns from loyal customers.

Signed,

Not So Happy Camper

{Just helping out my fellow FB/Twitter/Pinterest addicts…..}

Bug Bites, Barettes and Bears - Oh My!

2011-09-15T12:41:00.001-07:00

Before I had children of my own, I always hoped for a boy as my first born. I realize I had nothing to do with that outcome and I do accept that God gave me THREE boys and ZERO girls for a reason.

Some days it’s not hard to see why. I mean, I don’t wear dresses ‘just because’ – I reserve those occasions for weddings and funerals. I think that others look stunning in them but I just feel weird in them and can't seem to pull off the intended look so I opt for the jeans. Another reason I’m pretty sure I didn’t have a girl is that I don’t have patience for French braids and barrettes. I would probably give it a shot one time and then force the kid to either wear a Cardinals baseball hat or get in line for a buzz cut with the boys, thus scarring her sweet little self forever.

So, now that you’ve read those confessions of where I lack some femininity {yes, it’s a word – I checked}, one might assume I am a total tomboy. Most days, I might agree with that. However, I’m pretty sure the definition of a tomboy means that they love all things outdoors. That's not so much the truth with this chic. Don’t get me wrong - I enjoy the outdoors but if I'm going to spend more than a few minutes outside, I do have a few {small} requirements. I need to be in the shade, it needs to be no hotter than 75 degrees but not so cool that I can see my breath. I don't do port-a-potties, all insects need to stay at least 50 feet from my flesh and there shall never be a substitute for toilet paper. Period.

Here's another confirmation that I'm not falling under any tomboy stereotype. We're going camping this weekend. I should be pumped up.

Except I'm not.

But I'm going and, no matter what, I am going to put my biggest smile on and make memories with my men. Maybe good ones, maybe not so good ones but memories nonetheless. I will take my camera and I do fully intend to snap some pictures for the scrapbook. And who knows? Maybe one day my boys will see the sacrifices I made for their happiness and want to reciprocate the love by sending me for an indoor spa day. Okay, maybe not. But who knows? Maybe I'll end up enjoying the experience.

Unless something crazy happens.

As comical as that is, it's really got me freaked out. Did I mention that we're sleeping in a tent on the ground of a state park? I'm not interested in becoming Cujo Bear's 2am snack. I can't express my fears in front of my children because my self-induced panic attack might permanently traumatize them but it's a valid concern. Are you laughing at me? Is the city girl in me shining brightly right now?

I will say one thing with absolute certainty. I'm not a fast runner. In fact, any time I do pick up the pace {usually chasing d3 when he's running with a sharp object or headed to the toilet with my iPhone}, I hear giggles from the peanut gallery. That's how infrequent it is and how awkward it looks. However, if I see a bear, you better believe I'm grabbing one kid in each arm and hightailing it to the nearest shotgun-armed park ranger. And you know what they say about running from bears - you don't have to be the fastest, you just have to be faster than the slowest person. GOT IT.

Oh, I hope someone brings coffee.

Mr. Sandman, Bring Me a Love Note and A Grilled Cheese

2011-09-09T17:23:00.000-07:00

If I had a quarter for every time I’ve heard, ‘Wow, never a dull moment in your house,’ I’d be loaded rich because it’s so totally true. Some of those ‘moments’ make me laugh, some make me cry and some make me just walk straight to my filthy master bathroom that the boys view as their personal urinal and sit while I practice my breathing. Not so much the pregnant, hoo-hoo breathing but more of the ‘I’m gonna break something or someone in half if I don’t calm down and count to ten’ breathing. Last week was no different……

And because my boys know my OCD tendencies and how I like things to be equal and balanced, they all gave me their own individual funnies to write about. These actually made the laughing moments list….well, eventually I laughed at d1 after a few minutes and d3 after a few days…..

Let’s switch things up a bit and do last born first…..

One of the hazards of d3 being a boy is his love for outdoors. He loves all things sports {duh} but when he’s at pre-school, it would appear that he loves to spend his playground time in the sand box. I know this not because his teacher tells me so but because every day when we get home and he takes off his shoes, he dumps out a cup of sand onto the floor. Every day. No big deal, really. We have a stellar vacuum and this carpet has seen way more nastiness than a few thousand grains of sand. We do have a garage where he could easily kick his shoes off but getting that kid to do something he does not want to do is not an easy task and we choose our battles rather than fighting day and night. Oh, the similarities I see in him to another certain lad in our family but that's beside the point.

Back to the story. I recently determined something else about his travels to the sand box that I really didn’t want to. As I was changing a blowout nappie of his last weekend {potty training is next on our to-do list and we can’t hardly wait }, I was having a hard time wiping his hiney. It felt….gritty. How could that be? He hadn’t been in the sandbox for at least 24 hours and he had had a bath the night before. A few hours later, he had another doozy of a diaper and, again, I couldn’t help but feel like I was exfoliating his bum. What in the world?

Oh wait. I get it now. Gritty-textured diarrhea can really only mean one thing – this kid is supplementing his two meals plus two snacks at pre-school with a helping of parasite-enriched sand! ICK. Should I be worried that he’s lacking some important nutrient that makes him crave this crud? Sheesh. I am hopeful, though, that he had enough and realized it’s really not at all tasty because I haven’t changed anymore of said diapers since last weekend. Whatever bug he swallowed {literally} must have made its way through and taken all the playground padding with it.

Now for a priceless quote from the middle son during one of our conversations on cooking…..

d1: Mommy, how do you make grilled cheese?

Me: You butter two slices of bread, throw a piece of cheese in the middle and cook it in a skillet. Easy as that.

d2: Well, what makes it black?

Bless his honest, itty-bitty self. He really had no idea that he had just insulted my cooking. And I did burn the last couple of sammies so I just chuckled. Although he’s never really been a picky eater and typically the one asking for salad before pizza, he’s gotten into a bad habit lately of complaining about what we’re eating and how I cooked it wrong so the fact that his question wasn’t really a complaint but more of an observation was somewhat refreshing.

And for the finale from my first born son, never to be outdone….

This week has been a struggle for him in the behavior department, specifically backtalk. Actually, I think D1 and I are the ones struggling with it because he really doesn’t seem bothered much by it. So far, he’s only popped off his mouth to us and not his teachers, which is good. That is, until this past Wednesday night when he took it with him to church. Unacceptable.

The consequences were steep for this offense – weekend sleepover cancelled. He.Was.Devastated. For two days, he asked over and over and over if we would change our minds and each time we said no, he melted down. Over and over again. I’ll admit – a lot of times we’ll soften up and let him ‘earn it back’ but not this time. It was clearly having an impact on him and we needed something to help the lesson sink in.

Here’s where the humor comes in. This morning, the day of when the sleepover was set to occur, d1 wakes up and asks me if I found his note. I have no clue what he’s talking about but he told me to go back to my room and look around for a note from him. Um, okay. So I go look on my night stand and dresser. I look under the bed, on top of the mounds of dirty clothes on the floor, under the bag of chips on D1's side of the room. Still, I see nothing. I glance over at my rumpled up covers on my bed and do a double take when I see this…..

Surely not. Is that blue ink on my cream colored sheets? Why, yes. Yes, it is. He wrote me a note, alright. On my SHEETS. Oh, the thoughts going through my head were not motherly. Maybe not even legal. So what if the note starts off with a declaration of love? That was merely the preface to a plea so, in my mind, it kind of cancels out the sentiment.

Here’s the funny part, crazy as that sounds. I thought he wrote the note to me directly on the sheets but, if you look closely, the writing is actually on a piece of Scotch tape that is stuck to the bed.

Apparently he came into my room last night when I was in the shower and wrote it on the tape {which now explains why I saw the craft bucket randomly dumped out on the bathroom sink last night} and then placed on my side of the bed. I think he knew he would have been shipped off to that boot camp place I refer to far too often had he gone and scribbled directly on the linens. He must also think that I carefully climb into bed each night and examine my sheets thoroughly before falling into a peaceful slumber. Not so much, kid. More like collapsing every night from exhaustion and fatigue, hence the reason why I slept on top of your love note.

Sleepover ruling was not overturned, despite the innovative appeal. Nice try, though.

A Teachable Moment for Us All

2011-08-26T09:39:00.001-07:00

Warning: The following was not intended to be a short novel but it is what it is. And if you don't want to hear biblical truths, you might want to skip on over to another blog. This might hurt.

As you know, most of the conversations I have with my boys these days go in one of two directions. Many times I’m ~~screaming~~ behavior-modifying them {doesn’t that sound so much nicer?} in my GI Jane military voice - ‘Please remove your underwear from the table and put them back ON your body. The birthday suit is not acceptable attire for dinner, especially on the cloth-covered seat cushions. We have enough stains without the addition of your dirty hiney.’

And then there are the other exchanges we have where one of them is telling a story and, due to their age and inability to use discretion, it turns out pretty comical -‘Why is Grandma so moley? It scares me. I don’t want her sleeping in my room when she comes to visit. She might leave some of her moles in my bed.’ {For the record, I’m not outing my mother-in-law on her skin tags; they told her this when she was here last month so she’s fully aware of how it freaks them out. She happens to find it funny herself. Just wanted to clear that up.}

This next conversation falls into its own category and I don’t really know what to call it yet. I guess I could just call it the ‘teachable moments’ – it’s not disciplining because there’s no ‘crime’ being committed by the child but it’s definitely not comical.

In the car to school:

Radio Announcer: ‘…….last night, a robber broke into a home and stole several large appliances…..’

d1: Mommy, are robbers bad guys because they steal appliances?’

Me: ‘Well, they are breaking the law so I guess you might say they are bad guys.’

d1: ‘So they’re going to the bad place when they die, right?’

Me: {still not picking up on the ‘moment’ here – I’m a little slow in the morns} ‘Not necessarily. Just because they break the law doesn’t mean they don’t love Jesus. Either way, I'm sure it makes Jesus very sad at their actions.’

d1: ‘But if I’m good, if I don’t steal and if I help my homeless friends, I’ll get to heaven, right?’

Let me stop right there. Although I should have seen where this was headed, it took me a second to realize his thought process and how incredibly important it was that I answer this correctly and biblically.

So basically what I’m hearing my seven-year-old ask me is that if he is a good boy and does a few charitable projects in his life, he’ll spend eternity in heaven? NO BUENO. This is, in my opinion, a lot of what is wrong with the world today where churches are concerned and it’s two-fold. People either think that their salvation is determined by how they conduct their lives {‘I’m doing okay as long as I’m ‘better’ than the next person’} or they think they aren’t ‘eligible’ for salvation because they’ve already done too many ‘bad’ things.

It just so happens that I fall into the second category. See what happens when you come from a background like mine? You can identify with so many jacked up situations, although I have a feeling a lot of people can relate here.

For 20+ years, I felt like I was not good enough to be one of those ‘Christian folk.’ Those people always seemed like they had it all together – the clothes, the kids, the careers, the whole package. {PS - I’m learning that the more they look all put together, the less they probably are}. And since I've never managed to have it 'all together,' I didn't feel like I fit that mold. It didn’t help when I had encounters as a teen with religious people who condemned such things as wearing jeans in the sanctuary. Because God cares what I wear? Really? I mean, if He didn’t want me in my nicest pair of Levi’s, why on earth would he want me with my reviled past?

Or how about this one? This is another true story of how the ‘church’ rejected me and likely led to my distaste for any and all churches in general. I was about 13 or so. My brother and I lived with our grandma off and on during my mom’s jail stints. My grandma was an amazing woman but that’s another post. Anyway, when we stayed with her, she always liked for us to go to church with her. I didn’t usually argue with her because there were cute boys in the youth group and I liked boys. Hello? I was a teenage girl. One night at youth group, I remember talking to one of the boys. I can’t tell you what we talked about now and it's irrelevant. However, I do remember the youth group pastor coming over to him and asking him to move away from me, to find someone else to talk to. The boy didn’t understand – I mean, we weren’t holding hands or trying to sneak a peek. We were talking. He asked why and this youth pastor whispered in his ear, ‘Just move. You don’t want to get mixed up with her.’ Too bad his voice carried and his whispered words were felt to the core....

I mean, dang. Who says that? I’m not trying to run this pastor down. I’m sure he’s a nice man and had his reasons. After all, I’m a mother of three little boys. When they are teens, you better believe I will be psycho-stalking every last one of them to know who, what, when, where, why and how they think they'd get away with whatever they're up to but that’s beside the point. It wasn’t about the boy. It was about the way that pastor made me feel. I’m sure the staff was familiar with our home life and we were probably on the many Sunday School prayer chains but I felt like dirt after that. In hindsight, I think about how, had that conversation gone a little differently, had that pastor reached out to me the way I now know Jesus would have, it could have been a changing point in the trajectory of those next ten years of my life. See my ties to that second category? That one whisper that I guess I shouldn't have overheard left me with anything but a desire to know God. If it meant I would feel like garbage after an evening with the church folk, no thanks. I’ll pass.

I'm just constantly reminded that, as followers of Jesus, we need to make sure we’re not sending out either of these messages to our kids and to the entire world, especially those who don’t know the Lord. I do NOT want my boys buying into either one of these ridiculous shenanigans that have infiltrated the church bodies, neither of which are biblical.

D1 and I will spend our lives making sure they know that salvation is never an earned reward. Ephesians 2:8 says that ‘God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God.’ I know now that salvation has NOTHING to do with works. I know that I am saved by GRACE and that nothing that I do will ever be enough but that doesn’t mean that I stop working for the glory of God and for His Kingdom.

It means that because of my faith, I will continue my works. James 2:18 outlines it perfectly. Check this out. ‘Now someone may argue, “Some people have faith; others have good deeds.” But I say, “How can you show me your faith if you don’t have good deeds? I will show you my faith by my good deeds.” This used to confuse me but now it’s very clear. Our salvation is not dependent on our works but, by our salvation, the works will come. John 3:3 says the same thing – ‘Jesus replied, ‘I tell you the truth, unless you are born again, you cannot see the Kingdom of God.’ His words, not mine. That is biblical.

Secondly, we will make sure they know that, although no one is ‘good enough’ to go to heaven, it is designed for everyone. EVERYONE. Even that guy out robbing old people’s homes for their Fridgidaires. Even the lady turning tricks on 2nd Street to support her family. Even THOSE people. ESPECIALLY those people. Hate the sin, not the sinner. Anyone heard of John 3:16? It says “For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.’ His words, not mine. That is biblical.

OK, we know that salvation is not dependent on our good deeds, right? I think we've established that much. However, that doesn't mean we just stop and become stagnant. There’s this catchy phrase I heard recently – Found People Find People – and I think it’s dead on. By serving others, in whatever capacity you feel led, you are serving the Lord. You are showing those in need that you are helping without expecting anything in return. When you're doing this, there's a good chance that they will want what you have. Meaning your joy and happiness, not your Coach purse. Whether you’re serving the homeless, mentoring or adopting a fatherless child or volunteering with the elderly, you can make an impact. Our family absolutely believes in the power of serving others in need {Isaiah 58:10}. We only wish we could do more and we continually ask God to reveal opportunities and use us to be a light for Him. It only becomes an issue when someone believes it is their path to salvation, which is where my son’s mind was headed.

I'll be honest and admit that, although I know and believe all of this, it's still difficult for me at times. I struggle with thinking that I have to be involved in this, that and the other to serve God adequately and that's just not true. I know that He wants me to do all that I can in the most effective way possible. I know that I have to be open to opportunities He presents in my life, some that may be way out of my comfort zone. I know I need to be patient and let Him direct my paths. Too bad I stink at having patience. I guess this is yet one more area that He's working on in me.

After giving it some further thought, I realized something else. d1 knows about heaven. He knows how you can and can't get there. Maybe he doesn’t fully grasp the enormous concept of the Trinity {do you? Because I don’t} but he knows what he’s been told and what he’s learned over the years at home and from his SS teachers. He knows that the only way to forever with Jesus is by receiving Him in his heart, believing in His power and seeking a deep relationship with Him. So why would he ask me that question about getting to heaven?

I'll tell you why. Satan was all over my boy. He wants him to question his child-like faith that is growing by the minute. He wants him to believe that which is not true. The worldly views are pushed on our children left and right and, as parents, we need to be on high alert for this mess. Spiritual warfare is at its peak - just watch the news for any given two-minute interval and you'll know that. We’ve got to be prepared for battle. These little people need us to have their backs against the Enemy – gear up, friends!

On The First Day of School....

2011-08-23T16:24:00.000-07:00

....we had little drama. Praise the Lord! I'm still slightly traumatized from d1's first day of K-5 so I can truly appreciate this gift of ease.....

As always, we began the school year with a grandioso breakfast. This year the menu consisted of whole wheat brown sugar banana bread pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage links, grits and fruit smoothies. Now, before you start thinking that I'm the Betty Crocker of 2011, I will be honest and tell you that the pancakes were gross. No, really. They were disgusting. I could have probably eaten the photo of the pancakes and tasted more flavor. I knew there was a problem when they wouldn't even finish half of a pancake when they typically burn through at least three a piece. d1 did break it to me gently and said, 'I don't mean to hurt your feelings, Mommy, but this just isn't good. Do I have to eat it?' I don't know where I went wrong but I did sample a bite and they were awful. Period.

For some reason I cannot perfect specialty pancakes and I'm done trying. I've wasted way too many bowls of batter only to be irritated when they aren't edible. I've mastered a homemade ice cream cake and I can whip up a tasty meatloaf - I'll leave the pancakes to IHOP and feel no shame.

Off they go....

2nd Annual Front Porch Photo

d3 assisted me in walking d1 and d2 to their classrooms. I've got to give the little booger credit - he did really well. I had originally asked my sweet friend to keep him for a quick playdate with her little P while I did the 'First Day' duty solo {D1 has to be front and center at his school} but we were running a few minutes behind so I just put my brave panties on and took him with me. I was unexpectedly surprised by his big boy behavior. Oh the possibilities are endless with a compliant toddler, although I'm not holding my breath. He is his oldest brother's mini-me and, well, age 2-4 wasn't a walk in the park.

We haven't actually reached that 'walk in the park' period that the 'books' speak of and I don't expect d3 to be any different. How's that for optimistic? I'm just going with realistic outlook....

Making their way into the doors of Buena Vista Elementary

No tears from either boy and just a few from their quacky mother. I still can't believe I have a 2nd grader and that little d2 is in Kindergarten. Everyone always says how time flies and, in the moment, it doesn't always seem like it's moving quickly but when I walked them in this year, I felt the harsh reality that they are growing up so fast and before I know it, they'll be off to middle school and then high school. Oh, I can already feel the ulcers lighting up now....

i {heart} my boys

2011-08-20T20:28:00.000-07:00

Some days I wonder if children, particularly mine, are physically born with emotions or if they are just developed over time.

Wait, let me rephrase that. I am well aware that they have emotions.

I know that they feel sadness because they cry when their sibling hits/kicks/bites them, depending on the perp’s preferred approach for pain. I know that they feel happiness because their faces light up when we announce that we’re heading to Pizza Inn for an all-you-can-eat dinner {it’s no secret that food is the direct line to all hearts in this house}. I also know that they feel anger because they scream, ‘you’re the meanest mommy ever and I don’t like you right now’ when they are sent to their room for jumping off of the bed/couch/stairwell. {BTW, new moms - those words don't sting anymore}

I don’t doubt any of those emotions. I know they have them, obviously. What about things like compassion, sympathy and consideration? I don’t see much of that. At least not very often and I attribute that to their age but, recently, I’ve been pleasantly surprised.

Now, don’t get me wrong. There have been times in my seven years of mothering where I’ve seen an action or two from the little guys and I was taken back by their ability to empathize with someone else. However, this week it happened on several occasions and I just can’t stop thinking about it.

It seems like I’m not only witnessing a new level of maturity {even if it only lasts for seconds at a time} but I’m slowly seeing heart changes and that’s what excites me. It’s like an awakening inside of them {even if it only lasts for seconds at a time} and it’s awesome. The heart is what we’re fighting for.

Allow me to share some of this week’s conversations and observations of my two oldest, sweet boys {the jury is still out on the compassion level forming in #3}. That bolded word back there is pretty big for me – usually my stories begin a little different and I’m not always so much doting….

A few days ago, d1 and d2 were doing something in the dining room. I don’t really recall every detail although they’ve become quite fond of Dining Room Dodge Ball after their daddy instructed them on how to pull off a quick game with minimal damage. Anyway, something happened that ended with d2 crying because of something d1 had done. After hearing both sides, I sent d1 to his room for a few minutes to cool off and planted d2 on the stairs for time out.

When d1 came down, I encouraged them to ‘hug it out,’ which was a new tactic I was trying as it seems these days they hate each other and it couldn’t hurt to show some love, right? Though they didn’t hug right then, what happened next had me speechless.

d2 said, ‘Mommy, I want to pray.’ Huh? I was confused. I just told you to hug and you're asking to continue your game? So I said, ‘You can play after you hug.’ In all fairness, he does have a slight speech issue with his ‘r’ so it sounded a little like ‘play.’ Then he said, ‘No, I said I want to pray -- for us.’ Um, okay. This was new but I went with it. So there we were in the dining room – me and all three little d’s {d3 wasn’t about to be left out of this event} – heads bowed, eyes closed, hands being held while d2 led us in a prayer asking Jesus to forgive everyone’s naughty behavior and to help us all make the right choices. And then they hugged and d2 told d1 he loved him.

OK, as I type this, it’s hard to not giggle at the memory but, in the moment, it was priceless. I always joke that he’s our little Billy Graham and he keeps re-affirming it. The kid just turned five and he’s requesting an impromptu prayer circle. This world could sure use more prayer warriors! Maybe it’s not compassion per se but more of a spiritual side developing in him. Either way, I am so delighted. I guess I should mention that within two minutes, they were both back in opposite corners for another round of ‘cooling off.’ Ah well. It was nice while it lasted….

And then there was today. We try to make it a part of our normal weekend routine to lie down for a nap/quiet time with the older boys while d3 is having his mid-day snooze. We use this as time to be alone with one boy at a time and today I paired up with d1. Usually we’ll have some chats while I scratch his back and then he’s out for an hour or so.

Today as we talked, though, he started asking questions about my dad. I knew the time would eventually come where the boys would start wondering where my parents were and I never really knew how to answer. I didn’t have a plan other than to keep it simple but optimistic. Now, in many parts of my childhood, that’s not so easy and I did use the tried-and-true line of, ‘one day you’ll understand’ but, in the end, I just told him that although I do have a dad, I’ve never known him. He doesn’t need to know the disappointing specifics so I left it at that. He started to ask some other questions but really focused on the father aspect and seemed a little bugged by it but then fell asleep. I thought that was the end.

Here’s where I witnessed a change in my firstborn son. Later this afternoon when we were getting ready to sit down to dinner, he randomly says, ‘Mommy, I didn’t want you to know earlier but after you told me you didn’t have a daddy, I rolled over and cried. It made me sad for you.’ I mean, really? How can a child his age feel that kind of emotion for someone else?

I had no words, just tears welling up inside of me. Not sad tears for what I didn’t have but happy tears for what I have now. These boys are amazing and I don’t deserve them. For every ounce of stress they cause me, they make up for it a hundred times over in these moments.

Some days I wonder if we’re screwing our kids up. No, I worry about that everyday. Are they eating enough fruits and vegetables or too many HFCS, processed items? Do we raise our voice at them too much? How much Wii is too much? Thankfully I have days like these above that help remind me that they are good boys. A little bit wild and a whole lot of crazy but their hearts are molding and forming and I can see a love for Jesus shining through them, little by little, in their words, actions and behaviors.

Though these moments aren’t daily or even weekly, it is proof that work is being done inside and for that, I’m praising God and claiming Proverbs 22:6 over my boys – ‘Direct your children onto the right path and when they are older, they will not leave it.’

Sorry, d3. You didn't make this issue. Maybe you should stop screaming your favorite two-letter word at Mommy all day long and I'll have something sweet to write about you....

Five Days of Disney - Day Five

2011-08-18T17:35:00.001-07:00

How appropriate. It’s been five weeks since our trip to the Happiest Place on Earth and I’m blogging day five. I never imagined it would take me this long to document our family vacation but then I never imagined before I became a mother just how much energy it would drain from my 31-year-old body and how, at the end of the day, I would have nothing left in me, not even the little amount of effort it requires to draft up some narration so here it is. Day five.

We returned to the Magic Kingdom to round out our third day of park passes. After doing it the first day and then trying out Animal Kingdom the second, our only other option was Epcot and we had heard it wasn’t really kid friendly. We knew that there was probably a good bit at MK we didn’t see the first go round so we felt it was the best choice. And we were right – there was TONS of stuff we never even got to.

For the record, I walked this entire day with what I believe might have been a broken toe. That’s a feat in itself but what makes it even more heroic is that I did this while following Speed Racer, aka Dallas Darnell. I know it’s just his normal pace but dang! I didn’t even try to keep up with him. I figured he would eventually get lonely walking two miles ahead of us so I went as fast as I could. I did contemplate one of those motor scooter buggies until I saw the $75 a day price tag. Not a chance. I would suffer in silence {okay, that’s never been a true statement} and deal with the pain of the wound later.

Earlier I said we only met one character. I must have forgotten about this handsome little guy. Too bad d3 is petrified. I think this was the same look he had standing next to Pinocchio.

We were there when the park opened the gates and spent the entire day. We hit up some repeat favorites like Buzz Lightyear & People Mover along with some new favs like Peter Pan and It’s a Small World. d1 and I tackled Splash Mountain together, which was fun to do one-on-one but I was a sopping mess when that was over. Apparently the first car equates to the wettest car. I didn’t know that until afterwards AND I was wearing a white shirt. Perfect. I vote a warning sign be placed near that first slot but that’s just my whiny opinion….

Enjoying a nice, indoor ride on It's a Small World - can you see the exhaustion in their eyes?

Once again, we packed a cooler full of goodies for lunch and snacks which saved us a bundle of cash. This time, for our afternoon treat and at the suggestion of our Disney-crazed Harris friends, we splurged on Dole Whips. Sure, they were good but with the scorching temps, it didn’t take long for it to turn into a Dole Smoothie. I will admit – it was a tasty pineapple-vanilla treat that I can’t pick up just anywhere.

Adventureland - home of the Dole Whips

We ended the day with an attraction called PhilharMagic and it was my favorite of all three days. Call me lame, old, whatever but it was super cool. It was a short 3-D show with extra effects like wind and rain and lots of fun music, led by none other than Mickey Mouse and friends. It was just really neat. Funny thing - I remember my grandma always loving ‘shows’ and I remember thinking that it must be an ‘old person’ thing. I guess that confirms my suspicions. I’m old. But at least I’m not in denial.

I was further reminded of this fact yesterday when I spent less time examining calories and fat content of a cereal box and more time on the fiber, searching for the highest grams per serving. Now that’s when you know you’ve hit a new level in life.

Oh good. The lovely 'rock & roll' hand gesture made it in yet another photo. I was afraid it wouldn't.

Before we headed for the parking lot, we made a stop at one of the million gift shops to let the boys pick out a souvenir while a quick storm rolled in. They really had no interest all week long to look in these shops but we told them that they could bring something back home. However, the actual selection process was an ordeal in itself. Earlier that day, d2 had spotted this Mickey Mouse foldable brush/mirror that he loved. Random, yes, but it was $5 so, along with him, I loved it, too. I told him that, at the end of the day, if that’s what he wanted, he could pick that. All day long he talked about it so naturally it’s what he asked for in this store.

I had the brush in hand {and d1 decided he wanted the same thing so we had two and ready to pay}, my sweet husband asked the dreaded question – ‘Are you sure that’s what you want to take home?’ What? Why? Why would you ask a 5 year old that? He’s highly overstimulated, he has so much to choose from that he could spend hours deciding but he had made a decision, one that he was very excited about and you ask him if he was sure?

Can you guess what happened then? Uh huh, we spent at least 20 minutes in this store with a thousand other drenched tourists while BOTH boys looked for another souvenir. Yes, both. Obviously d1 wasn’t sure now , either. Awesome. We were all tired, d3 was D-O-N-E in all sense of the word and we’re walking circles around buckets of junk in a gift shop but let's make them second guess their choices. Brilliant, dear.

After a very intense decision-making process that resulted in a Mickey water bottle, a Buzz drinking cup and a plastic Mickey doll, we put on our bright yellow ponchos {the ones I bought at Wilson’s 5¢, just in case} and started our journey back to the van. This is where life got interesting.

As we were heading to obstacle number one of the exit {i.e. the Monorail}, D1 was pushing the double stroller which carried d1 and d3. He was doing a slow jog because the rain was still steadily falling. I was trying to keep up with Speedy Gonzalez at my gimpy pace and d2 was, as usual, lagging behind me, getting his last few moments of Disney People Watching in. {In his defense, it really was one of the best people-watching locations we’ve experienced.}

As the rain picked up, we started going a little faster and once we made it to the monorail station, we caught our breath and decided to wait for the next train. We were the only ones that didn’t get on the previous train but we weren’t all accounted for. ‘d2 was missing. OH.MY.WORD. My child was missing. At DISNEY WORLD. I don’t think I’ve had that kind of panic. Ever.

Just then the doors of the monorail opened and someone yelled, ‘Whose kid is this?’ as they pointed to d2. Apparently he had followed another yellow poncho onto the monorail {they were probably smoking and, for some reason, my kids can’t seem to look away from smokers these days}, thinking it was us. Praise the Lord that someone thought to ask him where his mommy and daddy were because he didn’t speak up. I’m convinced he was still staring. We really need to work on that with these boys. Not just for safety reasons but it’s embarrassing. It happens everywhere we go – grocery store, restaurants, gas stations.

So, now that we had our moment of terror out of the way, we felt pretty good about the rest of our night. We headed out of Orlando, grabbed a big dinner that would help the little people sleep sound, and settled in for a nice EIGHT hour drive {you were right, Kelley C}. If you read day one, you understand why we decided to drive at night. There is NO way we will EVER attempt a daytime drive again until they are in their teens {if then}. Sure, we were exhausted when we rolled into Greer at 4am but it was such a peaceful drive. No complaining, no bodily noises {at least not intentionally}, no repeating questions - just me and the big D, lots of Dr. Pepper and a kickin’ Pandora playlist.

All in all, it really was a good trip. Would we do it over if given the chance? I don’t know. Obviously we are so grateful at all that my aunt and uncle provided for us in the way of lodging and meals and we can never thank them enough but I’m not sure the boys were at the right ages to appreciate such amazing adventures. That was made painfully clear when they asked if we could go back to the waterpark instead of Magic Kingdom on day five. It's not their fault - they’re just not old enough to fully grasp the colossal Disney experience. Who does, really?

That being said, if you do go with small children, here are my recommendations – do take a stroller, don’t go in the middle of the summer, and do bring a full cooler. Unless, of course, you’re loaded with money, in which case, we probably don’t know each other…….

One overlooked photo from day two I couldn't resist adding. Who says eye rolling starts in the tween age? He's got it perfected at two.

Five Days of Disney - Day Four

2011-08-11T16:45:00.001-07:00

Although we took a break from the parks on day four, I’m not changing the title. I thrive on continuity. And even though we weren’t technically in Disney, we were just a few short miles so it still fits.

This might have been my favorite day of our trip. Crazy, right? How can a day in Orlando without any fictional characters or wild rides be so great, you ask? Because those parks are utterly exhausting. Fun and exciting, yes, but we needed to change things up a bit after the first two park visits and we thoroughly enjoyed the variation.

Prior to our arrival, my sweet uncle had made arrangements for him and D1 to play a round of golf on this unbelievable Jack Nicklaus-designed course so they headed out that morning while my aunt and I huddled up the kids {my three plus her two-whew!} and headed to the pool for a morning swim. {We actually were the first to arrive. Apparently some people actually sleep in while on vacation. Huh. Weird.}

After the pool, we drove over to this awesome water park inside the housing community. It had a contraption similar to that in the Great Wolf Lodge as well as a Lazy River, sand volleyball, soccer fields, and more. It really was pretty amazing. The weather was hot {and, for the first time all week, I was thankful for the heat!} and the crowds were light. We did everything a few times, enjoyed a nice, pool-side lunch and then did it all again. I didn’t take any pictures on day four from my real camera but was able to snap a few from the phone. If you’ve ever tried to take multiple children to a water park by yourself, you understand why. It’s not just difficult, it’s dangerous, especially when the smallest of smalls hasn’t quite developed a fear of deep water.

Not sure where d1 had disappeared to, no idea what d2 is doing in this pose and the pink hat on d3 was a fill in for the temporarily misplaced Royals hat....although I'm not opposed to dressing him up in pink....

Bless his heart, d3 was a little trooper, though – no nap AGAIN but you could hardly tell, as long as we were in motion. It almost made me forget the previous days with him. Almost. He did take a quick break to catch some rays…..

Handsome little booger, chillin' in the chair. Why does he look like a little man here?

Right before we were leaving, the boys asked me to play a little soccer game with them. Gosh how I wish I had just declined and dealt with their whining from my lack of participation. Instead, I got this…..

Look beyond the three hairs on the toe I missed in my morning shave. What you should be focusing on is the black, blue and purple tints that surrounded my largest piggie.

Now, I realize it’s my own fault, that I should have known better than to try and stop a soccer ball with no shoes on but I never realized it would hurt that bad. No, really. I went to my knees and held back the tears in an effort to not freak out the boys when what I really wanted to do was roll around on the grass and beg someone to cart me off to the ER. Don’t judge. It hurt and the picture still doesn’t do it justice. {And four weeks later, I’m still unable to wear anything other than sandals. I wore a pair of heels to work this week and considered cutting the digit off myself with a pair of nail clipper scissors.}

The day wasn’t over yet. Once we got back to the house, D1 and the unc had returned from their golf game. I was told to jump in the shower because I had an appointment for a spa mani/pedi. Really? Me? Alone? Wait - am I dying? No? Ok, later! That next hour was heavenly. Well, as soon as I pointed out the growing-by-the-minute big toe and asked Miss Mani to exclude from her amazing rub down, it was awesome. They even offered me some drink I’d never even heard of. It sounded tasty and sophisticated but I passed. I was just happy to sit in a massage chair, reading a recent issue of People without someone climbing on me or begging for a turn. Oh and the relaxing sound of Enya flowing through the speakers was a nice touch, too….

We ended the day with a dinner at Kobe’s Japanese Steakhouse, one of my favorite cuisines. I ate so much steak, shrimp and vegetables that I thought I might bust. I couldn’t stop eating, which explains the three pounds that came home with me. That and all the extra Cherry Dr. Pepper I consumed that helped to keep me going…..

According to d1 and d2, this was the best day ever. As much as it overjoyed me to see them so satisfied, I couldn’t help but think about how much money we could have saved by loading up the pink basket with junk, spending every day at the water park and blowing off the Kingdom tickets. Oh well. You live and learn.

Yep, I’m pretty sure day four was my favorite. Oh, I guess I should mention that it was my birthday, too. …..

Five Days of Disney - Day Three

2011-08-04T17:18:00.000-07:00

Whew. I’m finally sitting down to finish this little reflection of our trip. We’ve had family in town and life has been a little chaotic. Now that we’re back on our weekly schedule and D1 is back to Thursday night basketball, I have a little free time to blog. Any other night of the week I save for him {especially after his summer as SAHD} and blogging is just not a two-man activity…..

Before we left for Orlando, we had purchased three-day passes to be used at any of the Disney parks. Originally, we thought that we would spend all our time at the Magic Kingdom since it sounded like it was the most kid friendly for our boys’ ages. However, after a few suggestions from others, we decided to change our plans and hit up Animal Kingdom on day two.

Now, bear with me. It has been three weeks since we were there and my memory is just not what it used to be {which might not be a bad thing in this case….} The setting was the same – HOT and humid. Nonetheless, we were still at the Happiest Place on Earth and, by golly, they were going to be happy. Oh, and I would like to mention that on this particular day, half of Brazil’s teenage population was joining us in AK. Did you know that when you're an international tourist at Disney, you all wear the same shirts, follow a feller carrying your country’s flag and sing the anthem {or so I assume that was the song they were humming}? In any case, we shared the park that day with them and 5 million other people because it was uber crowded. That I do remember.

After we made our way through security and ticketing, we did a quick scan of the map and decided to take the safari tour first. This was pretty neat. Everyone loads onto a Jeep and the driver heads out into ‘Africa’ where there are giraffes, lions, elephants, etc. within a stone’s throw of the vehicle {I’m not good with distances – could have been 50 ft or 500. Who knows. It was close.}

We did the safari early in the day because it was a popular attraction and the lines grew very long as the day went on. However, that meant that we had to forego some of the other fun rides, like Everest and Dinosaur, because once the safari was over, those other lines were long and the Fast Pass times were later than we planned to stay. This is where we were a little disappointed in our choice of AK over MK. There just wasn’t much that didn’t require a ridiculous wait and, with our brood, that just wasn’t an option. I'm sure it had to do with the enormous amount of people there that day but, in any case, it was a little frustrating.

Another fond memory I have {yes, I did have some} was when we took a train out to Rafiki’s Planet Watch where there was a petting zoo set up with some unique animals. We particularly liked the llama, probably because we're fans of the ‘Llama Llama’ books. Check out this poor chick's chompers….

Later in the afternoon, we were able to score some seats in the ‘Finding Nemo’ musical. The show was awesome, especially since it brought some much-desired, non-stop A/C for an hour or so. The colors were bright and the music was loud, which translated to three amused boys. There’s a valuable piece of advice for anyone asking – hold off on any indoor activities until later in the day when you are beat-down tired and desperate for some relief. I’m sure I wouldn’t have appreciated it nearly as much in the morning when I was synthetically energized by my XL latte as I did in the afternoon when I was running on fumes and dropping sweat by the gallon.

I guess d1 didn't hear me correctly when I offered gum as a bribe for a good picture. He's too busy tossing me the 'Rock & Roll' sign while d2 is non-verbally declaring his love for me. I can tell you which one got that sweet little nuggest of spearmint goodness.....

I think we lasted about 7 hours at Animal Kingdom that day and it was really not easy to do. Our overall take on the park was that it is a glorified zoo with a few extra features of an amusement park. d1 and d2 probably would have been interested in the little exhibits and in learning about the Pangani Forest but we couldn’t….oh, who am I kidding? They’re all about the rides – movement, noise, thrill – and after a day at MK, it wasn’t exactly what they had expected. Although, I have to say that I’m not sure who was more disappointed – the older boys or their daddy. I could be wrong but I think D1 may have wanted me to encourage him to wait in line two hours to ride Everest alone while I just ‘hung out’ with the midgets not tall enough/brave enough to endure the coaster. Had there been a safe place for me to ‘hang’ with them, I might have suggested it but without harnesses or handcuffs, it wasn't happening. There were way too many people to go to a 3:1 child-parent ratio and a nervous breakdown over losing a child in a crowd of Brazilians wasn't high on my to-do list. Maybe next time, dear.

As we did the night before, when we left the park, we headed back out to the uncle’s pad for dinner. Have I mentioned how blessed we were to have had the opportunity to do all of this without paying lodging? It saved us tremendously and we cannot say enough about how thankful we were…..and the boys LOVED hanging out with their second cousins at night, just swimming and watching 'The Karate Kid.' Their excitement was totally worth the nightly panic attacks I had from fear that something irreplaceable {either from sentiment or our lack of cash} would shatter from their energy bursts and new kung fu moves. Fortunately and only by the grace of God, we survived and so did their house.....

Five Days of Disney - Day Two

2011-07-24T19:02:00.001-07:00

We decided to start our Disney week at the Magic Kingdom. Despite the extreme temperatures, we were super excited. Bring on the Mouse!

So, let’s go ahead and get this out of the way. Even though we went to Walt Disney World, where lifelong memories are captured on camera, I probably took 30 pictures total. No, I mean 30 pictures the ENTIRE WEEK. And before you start judging, let me tell you something else. I’m pretty darn proud of that number because they weren’t easy to come by. You see, although we spent three very full days at the ‘Happiest Place on Earth,’ my boys did not get the memo that glee was required. They groaned every time I asked to take a picture so I had to bribe them with candy or ice cream and, even then, they couldn’t muster more than a constipated look for the photo op so I basically conceded. I’m not losing sleep over it. We’ll go back again one day. It may be another 5 years but I’ll take more pictures then. Especially since I’ll have Nanny McPhee with us on that trip. Or maybe Super Nanny - maybe that lady can whip my crazies into shape....

That picture was actually as we were leaving the park for the day. We'll call that the 'after' shot. The 'before' shot didn't come out too well since you couldn't keep them standing still long enough to press the button on the camera. Fine, so I guess they weren't miserable the entire time; it just seemed like it. And if D1 walked around all day with the backpack unzipped, we are pretty lucky nothing was ever stolen. Don't you think that Vera Bradley pattern looks nice on him?

Castle shot

d1 on Winnie the Pooh ride with ~~Indiana Jones~~ Uncle J

Here is their one and only character autograph. This is one occasion that I'm thankful we have all boys. They cared nothing about meeting the princesses or characters, which was great because those were just long lines, usually on the hot pavement in direct sunlight. Have I mentioned how HOT it was? Florida + July = stifling.

One of my favorite things about Disney is the fact that they allow coolers in the park with outside food and drink. Before our trip, we got some great tips from our friends who are either Disney experts or who had just visited. We loaded our lunch boxes up with frozen Uncrustables and Capri Suns and containers of Pringles. Having the first two items frozen when we left ensured they would be thawed and ready to eat by lunch. And, although Pringles are not this family's chip of choice, their containers are able to take some beatings in the shuffle of the day so it worked. Saving money at Disney is not easy. The ticket prices are mind boggling and everything inside the park is severely inflated but we sure felt good when it was time to eat lunch, knowing we weren't going to spend $50 on hot dogs and fries for the family. Plus, this made it a little easier to shell out $20 for an afternoon ice cream treat. I tried really, really hard not to do the math in my head of how many cartons I could purchase when Publix runs them BOGO. I just kept telling myself that we were on vacation, which means it's okay to spend ridiculous amounts of money on plain ole' soft serve ice cream.

Here's another tip for anyone contemplating a Disney visit - take a stroller. Unless your child exceeds the weight limit {and even then I might consider it}, take a stroller and do a double if you can. Sure, you could rent one from WDW but $15 a day? That's your snack size cup of ice cream, remember? Seriously, though. I can't tell you how many times d1 and d2 wanted a ride because they were tired of walking. d3, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with the stroller. Or holding hands. Or just behaving in general. Instead, he was more interested in blending in with the crowd and giving us panic attacks.

We lasted about nine hours that day. All things considered, that's pretty solid. We took in some Space Mountain, Pirates of the Caribbean and Buzz Lightyear, just to name a few, and really got a taste of the Disney experience. We headed back to the house with Uncle J and his family for some burgers and a little pool time before collapsing for the night. No injuries, no illnesses, no missing children. This day goes down in the books as a success. We'll take it when we can. Injuries and missing children? We saved that for later in the trip....

Five Days of Disney - Day One

2011-07-18T19:46:00.000-07:00

We’ve been back from Disney four days now and everyone is anxious to know how our trip went. At first, I was honest. Probably too honest. Now I’m wondering if maybe I sound too Debby Downer-ish instead of Opal Optimistic. I mean, everything I’ve said is the truth but maybe I should look for the positives in every situation and try to repress the mentally and physically challenging times.

In any case, if you are looking for a review that shouts shiny, happy people, you might want to Google another mom’s recount. And, for the record, that Opal lady HAD to have been medicated or with nanny, both of which I will definitely consider on the next Disney attempt.

Ahem. Day one. This was actually travel day but I think it deserves a spot in the Five Days of Disney because I survived day one without a nervous breakdown and that in itself is a flippin’ miracle. We, as frequent road travelers, have always, ALWAYS, aLwAyS driven at night when the boys were sound asleep. Exhausting, yes, but so worth the peace and quiet. Well, for whatever reason, we thought maybe our boys had morphed overnight into pleasant little people and decided to make the 8 hour trip down in the daylight. EPIC FAIL. Enter my nightmare with me. I am not a patient person, I realize this, but I have to believe even the most enduring would have broken down…..

*Ten-Second Tom {aka d3} either says, ‘Mommy?’ or ‘I see Minnie Mouse’ or ‘Gizmo poop’ every 30 seconds. NO EXAGGERATING. It started about 30 minutes outside of Greenville and never ended. I even took a video clip but Blogger is not cooperating with me so I can’t upload. Bummer. I really needed you to hear this insanity. Muzzle anyone?

*d1 and d2 can’t keep their hands off of each other and it is anything but affection. I really think they hate at each other at this stage in their lives. Or at least at this point in the summer since they’ve been with each other, day and night, for almost two months. They were pinching, hitting, biting, slapping, kicking, spitting, farting, etc. You name it, they did it. They napped for about 20 minutes of the drive and asked the infamous, ‘Are we there yet?’ question. They were kind enough to change things up a bit with, ‘How many more hours?’ in between the many requests for food and drink. I brought snacks for the ride down but it’s like they thought I was a short order cook in the front seat of the Odyssey, turning their noses up at peanuts and Goldfish. I mean, the options are limited on a road trip.

*We didn’t make it two hours before everyone was hungry and antsy so we stopped off to eat at BoJangles. We ate a quick lunch and, as we were heading out, D1 said he needed to use the bathroom. He goes in and comes right back out. Apparently he wasn’t able to ‘take care of business’ because there was a man occupying a neighboring stall and he was making very strange noises. What? Just go in and get it done. He refuses. So we leave and drive next door to Pizza Hut. Again, he runs in and is out in 10 seconds. WHAT NOW? Well, this time it’s a solo potty and the door won’t lock and that just won’t work for him, either. At this point, I am slightly irritated and can’t understand how this can be so difficult. Oh and he refuses a gas station. OK, help me out here. You need to go in and POOP – why in the world are you searching for a Ritz Carlton toilet? You're going to POOP. Oh, but then he sees it. And he gets so excited.

‘That’s it. Right there. Take me to the hospital. I bet they’ve got clean restrooms.’ So there you have it. Those who wondered what the check-in at Lexington Medical Center was all about may be a little disappointed. No broken bones, no stitches – just a man in need of a sterile commode. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not a fan of truck stops or anything covered in other people’s excretions but something like this should not be so complicated, would you agree? In hindsight, I think he would admit that he should have just dealt with the whimpering man at BoJangles and been done with it.

The rest of the drive was just more of the same nonsense from the back seat. Oh but with the added fun of d2 needing to potty while we’re cruising on I-95 through Jacksonville. We’re not keen on the idea of stopping in the ghetto but he insists he has to go so D1’s idea is a McD’s cup. Fine but since he’s driving, I’m the lucky one to hold the cup and it would be just like him to tap the brakes for fun. Fortunately, he spared me that nastiness but within 10 minutes, d2 had to pee again and filled yet another cup. Although none spilled on me, it might as well have because the van reeked of urine. It would have been a shame if D1 would have mistaken his Sprite for the ‘other’ cup…..

We arrived safely but were absolutely out of steam, to which we decided we would never drive during the day again. To go to the glass-half-full perspective, we did pull in to this community where my uncle owns a vacation home and it was utterly amazing. Though we definitely stuck out like sore thumbs, it was nice to pretend. We said hellos to the family and headed for bed. We had a long day two ahead of us.....

Savior Strikes Again

2011-07-18T18:52:00.000-07:00

I once heard someone say that leading a person to Jesus never gets old. However, until recently, I had no idea just how true that statement was.

What started with an urging from the Holy Spirit in my heart ended with a friend’s salvation. This is special to us, in many ways, but mainly in part because this was the first person we have had the honor to share the Lord with. It shouldn’t have taken this long. We’re not proud of that but it is what it is. This person was not a Christian and now he is. He realized that he was a sinner in need of a Savior. Boom. The end. Uh huh, it’s really that easy.

I’ve heard some people say that they’re not ready, that they don’t want to give things up. I can understand that. I remember thinking the same thing. But now I know that you can’t do it alone. Having a relationship with Jesus will give you that desire to change. It won’t happen overnight. It’s definitely a process but the journey is an amazing transformation.

The details of his story are awesome but I'll keep them private from the cyber world. The bottom line is this - he has been saved and, for that, we’re praising God. One down, billions of billions to go.

Tell someone what God has done in your life. You just never know who needs to hear it.

Leading someone to Jesus where they find joy, hope and eternity in heaven? Nope, that won’t ever get old.

I Miss Blogging

2011-07-06T18:45:00.000-07:00

I mean, not that I ever had a chance to do it more than once a week but I can’t even manage that frequency these days. Life just keeps increasing the pace on me. Or maybe it’s just that I’m too slow to keep up. Either way, I'm finding less time to ramble on about my silly offspring with the exception of Facebook two-liners. It’s certainly not because they’ve turned over a new leaf and started towing the line. Actually, it’s more like my memory can’t keep up with their naughtiness and I forget half the things they do to make me crazy when it comes time to pen it. I guess that’s a good thing.

Anyway, for those that don’t receive this mailing from TFBC, I thought I’d prove that I’m not entirely lazy in the evenings. They've asked me to write quarterly articles for the preschool age at church and this was my first release. What do you think?

Click here for the PDF

I'm basically provided the topics but given freedom to write and I.LOVE.IT. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy my number-crunching job {most of the time} although recently I find myself wishing I could serve the Lord in my everyday career. Now, I know that there are opportunities I have on a daily basis, whether I always realize it or not but sometimes I just wish I could participate in more outreach projects and programs instead of accruals and analysis. In any case, I'm thankful for my job and the provisions made for us and I'll remain patient and know that if He has a different path for me, He will make it known in His time. The End.

Who Am I?

2011-06-23T18:29:00.000-07:00

Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me

Break my heart from what breaks yours
Everything I am for your kingdoms cause

I am brought to tears every time I hear these words. I mean, dang! I know it’s just a song and I know I can be a ~~an emotional mess~~ little sappy at times but that’s some powerful stuff if you are truly ‘hearing’ it.

This is not a sad post. In fact, it’s a very happy post. Joyful, even. I like that adjective better because I truly have joy in my life that I’ve never, ever experienced before and really struggle to find the words to describe. What’s even better is that D1 is filled with this same overwhelming joy. Coincidence? No way. It is, however, further proof that we are equally yoked and that is a great feeling in and of itself.

So back to this joy thing. Although I became a Christian seven years ago, it’s not until recently that I realized I wasn’t truly seeking Him with all my heart. I wasn’t asking for opportunities to share the Gospel with others. I wasn’t desperately searching for ways to meet the needs of others on His behalf. In this last year {and more so these last few months}, I’ve done just that. I’ve asked God to use my talents, lead my paths, break my heart, whatever it takes. In fact, D1 and I both have and, no surprise, He has been faithful and answered each and every one of those prayers.

Oh, and the conviction that has been placed on us? Indescribable and can only be attributed to the Spirit. Where we once were timid, we are now both so bold. {P.S. -that doesn’t just happen.} but it's just further proof of the work He's doing in our lives. As one person put it, we are 'on fire for Jesus.' I'm good with that. I would say that someone on fire has some urgency in their lives and, these days, we can identify with that, just slightly different.

The Lord created us and knows us better than we know ourselves. Ask Him to use you in only a way that He can but GET READY because if you truly mean it, He’ll show up big time. And let me tell you from experience that there is no greater joy than being in the will of God. I never understood how that was possible but I can tell you that it's not malarky. It's the real deal. And it's amazing. I'm changing my, 'Who am I' question to a 'Here I am' submission.

Big things continue to unfold in our lives. We don't know what else is ahead but we trust that wherever He guides, He provides. Now, I don’t really see us leaving for Uganda as international missionaries any time soon {I’ll leave that to you, Kelley C} but who really knows....

Stay tuned.

ETA: Yes, I like Casting Crowns but I didn't realize that I have now named four of my posts after their songs. A little bizarre, yes. It's really just my lack of creativity and/or laziness for titles.

Jettin' Thru June

2011-06-21T17:41:00.001-07:00

I’ve really been looking forward to a little less chaos, although I’m wondering when exactly that will happen. Ever since school finished, this family has been going-GOING-going. June is a busy month with two birthdays, Father’s Day and an anniversary, not to mention Summer Spectacular, the start of a new baseball season and weekends at the water park. Despite the pandemonium, I’ve actually done well with snapping some photos and videos along the way…..

This year, d1’s 7th birthday landed smack dab in the middle of Summer Spectacular {i.e. vacation bible school} but that didn’t stop the excitement. The night before his actual birthday, he invited two friends to the water park and for a slumber party. I made a tasty ice cream cake that the boys devoured. I can’t really take credit for it – I got the recipe online. Nonetheless, it turned out awesome and at a fraction of the cost of a retail version.

d2’s birthday also came mid-week this year and his celebration of choice was Chuck E Cheese with two friends. We also did a family birthday dinner for him at Red Robin where he was serenaded rather LOUDLY and presented with a sweet treat. I also surprised him with cupcakes at his baseball practice where all his friends sang to him. He felt pretty special. All these opportunities and yet I didn't take one flippin' photo. Way to go, Mom.

Before you start thinking that our kids got ripped off on birthday parties, I have two ridiculously expensive words for you. Disney World. We leave in three weeks and we're still saving. Maybe I'm just incredibly cheap but I happen to think that three days in the Magic Kingdom is a pretty amazing birthday gift so forgive me if I remind them of it every day, all day while we're there…..and if they insist on having some of those un-original, overpriced rodent ears, we might splurge on a couple pairs, although something tells me my boys would rather have edible gifts.....

I mentioned the water park. It pretty much rocks. It’s local and small enough that all three boys enjoy themselves and we really don’t have to chase the older two around. The depths are perfect for them and they know their boundaries. And it's great people watching for us adults. Now d3 - well, he's a different story. It is rather exhausting with him but, at this age, what isn’t? Here’s his new favorite thing to do and really all he talks about when he’s not riding it…..

And then we had Father’s Day last week. I took the boys to Home Depot the day before to make D1 a mini-tool box during one of their little workshops. I was really impressed with d1 and d2’s ability to take simple directions and work independently. This was key because had I been required to help them hammer and glue each piece, we would have had to finish them in the parking lot after d3 was confined to his car seat. Every time I would turn around to check on one of them, d3 took those few seconds as opportunity to high tail it to the nearest exit. In the end, we left with two complete projects and their daddy loved them…..

Don’t buy into that innocent, baby face. This boy is sneaky and, at times, quite naughty. Even at home, if we don’t hear him, there’s a reason. It’s not because he’s playing quietly by himself. It’s because he’s hiding in the pantry, eating whole wheat flour or ripping all of the straws off of the Capri Suns, both of which have happened more times than I care to admit. Yes, we’ve finally moved the flour to a different shelf.

Though this video is a little random, I think it’s also quite relevant to the above statements. Naughty little feller. Listen carefully for my sigh. Good thing the audio ended there…..

Super 8

2011-06-14T04:17:00.000-07:00

Can you remember your wedding day? I can. Just like it was yesterday. I woke up in a hotel with six of my very best girlfriends. I looked out the window and smiled – the sun was shining and that had to be a good sign. I enjoyed a classy KFC lunch while having 718 bobby pins jammed into my scalp for that most desired up-do. I climbed in a limo and, on the way to the church, made a slight detour to see my grandmother in the hospital. Within two hours, I was walking down the aisle to the man I loved. Eight years later, as I look back on that day, it’s amazing to me that I had absolutely, positively no clue what our future held. I don’t believe either of us could have imagined a life this abundant.

Happy Anniversary, Dallas. I love coming home every night and sharing my day with you. I love that you make me laugh without even trying. I love the man that you are and the man that you are becoming every day. Sure, we struggle like everyone else but we have both gained this amazing perspective, with our eyes focused on eternity, that makes all the other ‘stuff’ seems so foolish. I promise to continue striving every day to be the wife that you’ve always wanted and needed. I pray that we both keep our eyes fixed on Him and that our marriage can be an inspiration to others and an example of His perfect love.

I ran across these pictures from our rehearsal dinner slide show. Look at how young we looked…..

Who stole my neck?

Pretty much sums up life with this fellow....still

Did you really think this was about a motel?

School's Out So Let's Sing

2011-06-07T12:46:00.000-07:00

In the last two weeks, a lot has changed.

d1 finished 1st grade....and I cried

d2 graduated from K-4....and I cried

I think I'm starting to experience a version of empty nest syndrome without my little middle with me in the car...so now it's just me and d3 each morning and afternoon. For the most part, he seems content with Sanctus Real or Casting Crowns coming through the speakers but lately he's shown some interest in singing along with me to the typical preschool songs so I thought I'd capture it on video. And yes, we were parked. I'm not talented enough to pull this off while rolling down interstate...

Warning: I really cannot sing {although I do a mean Pat Benatar on a karaoke machine} AND I really cannot sing in the morning before coffee so beware when you're watching this video. I have no idea what his deal is with Twinkle, Twinkle but he was having no part of it. When I start to sing the song, it's like he goes narcoleptic on me....

PS - they are not the same video but my lovely SMART phone would only let me upload a section at a time so piece it together and pardon the slight overlap....

Here's a tip - hit the pause button on the music player on the sidebar so that you can listen to the videos of d3

Identity Crisis

2011-06-02T16:18:00.000-07:00

d1 came home from school a couple of weeks ago with a sadness. Not a physical wound from the playground but a different kind of sadness, a pain from within. When D1 asked him what was going on, he said that a friend was having a party and he didn’t get invited. My boy was sad and his feelings had been hurt.

From the moment I heard the story, I was immediately aching for him. After all, I know what it feels like to be excluded – haven’t we all been there at some point in our lives? Whether it was a birthday party, a girl’s night out or even a trip-to-the-bathroom-and-I-wasn’t-invited-for-lip-gloss-reapply in high school, I know there have been times where I felt left out. Those feelings then morph into feelings of inadequacy and failure. When you’re younger, it’s a popularity contest. Guess what? When you’re an adult, it’s STILL a popularity contest. Or so that is our perception.

Let me just say that I do not know all the details and we did not pursue the facts. It could have been a Boy Scout party and d1 is not a boy scout {although I’m confident he could start a fire real quick!}. It could have been a lot of different things. It could have been that the friend just didn’t want to invite him because he didn’t like him. Who knows and it matters nothing. However, what is important is that now we can see that God was using this as a teachable moment to all of us.

Shortly after this incident, we had the oh-so-fun sickness in our house, which ultimately ended in multiple trips to the pediatrician. At the time, I was super annoyed. Can you blame me? We went from one kid to the next with strep throat. I was literally dodging vomit, changing bedding and toothbrushes as often as Spiderman panties and praying that, for once, they didn’t share their funk with d3. Now I can clearly see that our encounter with illness last month was no coincidence. It was totally God.

We went to the peds office to get this figured out and, while Dr. Y was keying the script into his little physician tablet, I decided to pick his brain. I know I’ve said this before but I’ll say it again and again. I love my pediatrician. I do. So does D1 and all of our boys. He is an amazing doctor but, more than anything, he is incredibly patient and kind and proudly declares that he is a follower of Jesus. When we ask his advice on parenting, he takes the time to share and always, every time, directs us back to Scripture. This occasion was no different. I relayed the story to him while being careful to not let d1 in on the fact that we were discussing him {although I think the DS took care of his attention for that moment in time}. What it really boiled down to was me asking Dr. Y how to make my son the popular kid. Maybe not in those exact words, at the risk of sounding like a shallow mother, but that was the jist. After all, who doesn’t want their child to be liked by everyone? It’s natural but not necessarily biblical.

As he usually does, when possible, Dr. Y gave me his personal experience with his children since they are a few years older. It just so happened that his son went through something very similar not so long ago. What he said blew me away. He said that it’s the world that pushes popularity. It’s the world that says you are ‘somebody’ if everybody likes you. It’s the world that says your identity is based on your athletic ability, how much money you make or how perfect your body is. However, as Christians, we are called to be set apart. We may be IN this world but we are not to be OF this world. Our identity is not found in the world. Our identity is found in CHRIST. Dr. Y reminded me that we need to spend less time caring about what others think and more time on God’s plan for our lives. We need to raise our children to follow Jesus and the rest will fall into place.

I’m pretty sure that when Dr. Y was done talking, my jaw was on the ground. I totally expected to hear things like, ‘work on his manners, ‘ or ‘teach him how to compliment others’ or something superficial like that and I would have went home and made a chart -- because we like charts -- and done exactly what he said. Instead, he opened my eyes to such an enormous truth. Sure, my boys aren’t perfect but they were made in the image of God and God is perfect. Obviously, as parents, it's our job to guide and influence but it is not our job to mold them into something they are not. If other's don't love them for them, it doesn't matter. Jesus does.

I realize this is easier said than done because it's a tough pill to swallow, isn’t it? That there will be people that don’t like us {or our children}? But then I realized something. Not everyone liked Jesus. Hello? He was crucified on a tree. I think that pretty much sums up his social status. In 1 Peter 2:4-5, it says that, ‘….he was rejected by people, but he was chosen by God for great honor.’ Whew.

Popularity, schmop-ularity. You can keep your 'Most Likely To Marry a Princess' votes and party invites. It won’t get my boys to heaven but I know what will…..

Tooth Fairies and Puke Pots

2011-05-25T18:37:00.000-07:00

The last two weeks have been…..well, just not much fun. Sick kids tend to make life a little more trying. And there’s that funny thing about having more than one child. Sickness never, NO, not ever stays self-contained. No matter how many times you Clorox-clean the door handles, wash the linens or Lysol every square inch of the house, it always spreads to the others. Two weeks ago, d1 had strep. No big deal. After one round of meds, he was good as new.

Then last week d2 had strep but with the added fun of vomiting and, specifically, when I’m driving. First day started on I-85. He said he thought he might throw up. All I could find in my immediate reach was a cardboard tissue box. I mean, I was driving 70mph – my options were limited. I handed it to him and, as he waited for that first surge to hit him, he got bored, I guess, because he started disassembling the box. I told him to stop in case he did throw up and before I even finished the sentence, he was filling the container with his breakfast. I quickly cut off handfuls of cars in my attempt to cross three lanes of traffic to get to the nearest exit. I warned him to hold the box very still while I pull off at Burger King to get rid of the box and get him a Sprite and a new ‘puke pot’ until we got back home. As I pulled in the drive thru, he was handing me the box and, just as the lady said, ‘Welcome to Burger King, can I take your order?,’ the flood gates opened, so to speak. Remember the side he dismantled moments before? Oh yes and right in my lap. I’m sure the lady on the other side of the speaker was probably a little grossed out by my dry heaving noises. I really can deal with most anything – poop, boogers, bleeding, severed worms. I don’t really freak too much over such things. But vomit? Oh, the sounds and the smells I just cannot do.

The second time in the car wasn’t nearly as traumatic to me personally, more so to the floorboard so I won’t go into details. I think the last one was enough, don’t you? Good.Times.For.Sure.

Thankfully, this is really the first bout of funk we have had to fight in several months. We were fortunate to make it through the true cough, cold and flu season rather unscathed so I guess we had ours coming but no one likes their baby to be sick. OK, maybe that’s not entirely true. I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the lethargic yet cuddly behavior when their fevers are rising. It was a refreshing break to have them laying on the couch, asking me to hold them rather than comparing Best Somersault off the side of the same couch. So….there it is. Infection, stay away! You are NOT welcome in this household….EVER.

Oh and let’s not forget that d2 also lost his first tooth last week. He lost his a good year before d1 lost his first one so we were a little surprised. Of course, we shouldn’t have been. I’m not sure this little toofer was really ready to pop out but after attending a birthday party at Monkey Joe’s with Daddy, d2 came home with it hanging by a thread. Now, the story that I got was that d2 was in a bounce house with a friend and when D1 peeked in on him and did a little wrestling, his mouth somehow ‘bumped’ D1’s hand. However, since I know just how much D1 enjoys {fake} boxing with the boys {he’s even taught them to make the punching noise and to fall down very dramatically}, I would guess that is how the fist met the face.

And to finish the bizarre story of Father Knocking Child’s First Tooth Loose, d2 went to school a couple of days later {with tooth still in place, albeit barely hanging on} and when I picked him up, I noticed his tooth was gone. When I asked him where it was, he just shook his head. He didn’t know when it fell out or where it was. Our best guess is that it was washed down with that day’s meatloaf. When he started to realize that no tooth may mean no tooth fairy which may mean no loot, he started to get upset. First we told him that we would make a fake tooth. Then we thought a letter might be better, explaining what happened. Of course, it didn’t help that d1 was standing there, whispering in his ear, ‘The tooth fairy won’t leave you any dollars if you don’t have your tooth. She’ll just fly right over. She only wants real teeth, not notes. I’m about to lose a tooth soon and I won’t lose it. I bet I'll get a lot of dollars.’ {Don’t you love the older brother commentary?}

So, the quick-on-his-feet thinker that he is, D1 ran upstairs, came back down and told d2 to check his pockets again, that maybe the tooth had fallen in while he was eating. He helped him look and, all of a sudden, a small, white tooth magically appeared. He was SO excited and I was quite impressed with D1’s sharp skills. Almost makes up for him knocking the tooth loose in the first place.

No, we don’t just keep random baby teeth in our sock drawer – it was d1’s first tooth…..and he’ll never know…..that is, until he reads this one day…..

Disney Or Bust

2011-05-18T08:54:00.000-07:00

Maybe I was feeling brave when he called. Or maybe I was overdosed with cough and cold medicine and somewhat delirious. I can’t really remember. Either way, when my Uncle J called a couple of months ago and invited us to spend a week at Disney World with his family, I said yes. Of course I waited to give a final answer until I talked it over with D1 but who are we kidding? I knew he would jump on it. What kid doesn’t want to go play at WDW? I’m pretty sure he’s more excited about it than d1 or d2 but that shouldn’t surprise anyone…..

Whether or not I’m second guessing that decision is irrelevant. We are going. In July. Yes, I know. Insane. But if I’m going to look at the bright side of that brilliant idea, I anticipate dropping at least two pounds of day from the amount of sweat I will undoubtedly expel. Anyway, Uncle J has a vacation home in Orlando that is large enough to accommodate us and his family and will save us a huge chunk of cash. Hip hip hooray for the free stay! Not to mention the fact that we don’t have to pay for airfare because we are just a short five hour drive from the Happiest Place on Earth, which is nothing for this nomadic clan. It’s a pretty sweet deal all around, although pricing these park tickets does tend to make me a little nauseous. After paying for four tickets x four days, we may have nothing left for food. We may be eating Chicken Helper and Spam sandwiches but, by golly, we WILL have Mickey’s autograph and we WILL ride Space Mountain, not to mention the enormous amount of memories we will create while there.

So, my fellow bloggers and readers, I’m looking for tips. It can be from your own personal experience or something you heard while standing in line at the post office. I don’t care. I am just looking for ways to make this vacation great, despite the fact that I have two chronic complainers and one short stack that insists on showing me his disappearing act. I’ve been making a list as I hear them. I think I even came across a blog devoted to surviving Disney trips with small children, which that in itself tells me we’re in for a real treat. I’ve heard it wise to spend the money for the double strollers and to dress your kids in bright clothing so they are easy to spot if when they get separated. What else ya got? And preferably not, 'DON'T DO IT!'

A Habit and A Hobby

2011-05-14T17:17:00.000-07:00

When I was pregnant with d1, I read a lot of books, magazines and articles on parenting. No, a lot. Some were very helpful and some were just plain evil and only escalated my new mother anxiety. I really thought I had read everything and would know what to do in every situation until the day the children went away to college. Funny, I know. The very definition of naïve.

Though I have learned a bazillion new things in the almost-seven years that I’ve been a mother, I never really thought I’d have to house break my child. Oh, not where the potty is concerned. We've managed to really succeed in that area {but I have a feeling d3 will want to be 'unique' when it comes time}. I'm talking about chewing. As ridiculous as that may sound, we have recently had to remove Woody from d2’s room because he has munched away the rim of his cowboy hat AND his nose. It was rather puzzling altogether but even more so that he chose his nose. I mean, why not the boots? They are long and pointy. You would think the nose was a little more work to gnaw on, given the fact that Woody doesn’t have a Pinocchio honker. And d2 is not really a nervous little feller. He has the carefree personality of the bunch but, for whatever reason, he’s taken up this new hobby. I don’t know. Maybe I should review his diet. Clearly there is something missing, though last time I checked, plastic was NOT added to a major food group.

Actually, as I think about this, I think he has too much time on his hands at night so he must be doing this out of boredom. Since he naps in K-4, he isn’t tired at bedtime and, though we could push his bedtime back a bit, the other two require a little more sleep so we put them all down at the same time. While d1 is out in minutes, d2 will lay in his bed for a while, sometimes up to two hours after we put him down, until he finally drifts off to sleep. I expect this will end next year when he starts Kindergarten and no longer has his little siesta. Lawd, I hope so. Maybe then he’ll cut down on his new habit…..

…..and his new hobby of spitting. I’m not talking about the normal, male-rite-of-passage spitting where it begins and ends in three seconds. Oh no, my son is an overachiever. Have you seen the movie, ‘Big Daddy’ where Adam Sandler ‘adopts’ a little boy and teaches him how to do ‘the thing?’ Here’s a recap for those having trouble recalling it up in your memory bank..

Good news, friends. The 'Big Daddy' in our house has passed on the same tips to d2. Oh and he's pretty good at it. I imagine he perfects his skills late at night after he's all gnawed out. I noticed it last week when we were at an 80th birthday party for D1’s uncle. Great place to find out that your son has that sort of gift. I’m sure I was just beaming with pride.

Happy Mother's Day

2011-05-08T12:23:00.001-07:00

Happy Mother's Day to all! This year was probably the best one yet with my guys. I woke up to a text alert of below video. Is d3 a kook or what?

So I followed their instructions and went into each room to find these.....

Each hand made card held a GC to my favorite places - Starbucks and Panera.

I did want to zero in on one of the cards in particular. d2 has a history of ~~inappropriate~~ descriptive drawings and this one is no different.

Though he drew in some additional 'parts' for me, he was advised to color over said area. He was sweet enough, though, to put me in high heels but I'm a little curious as to my new figure. I mean, I'm no Olive Oyl but really?

Then I came downstairs to a bouquet of flowers....

Gifts....

They know me so well, they even made me Mommy Coupons....

My boys really are THE best!

The Beauty of Beads

2011-05-05T05:21:00.000-07:00

Last Friday night, I attended a 'Royal' themed jewelry party. We played dress up*, ate yummy fondue and watched recaps of Prince Wills and Kate wed in royal fashion. And then we shopped....a lot! I got myself a few things but also knocked out some Mother's Day gifts as well.

My friend Kendra has all the pics and specifics so go here to read all about it. It's really an awesome story, the goods are NOT expensive {at or even below local sales prices on comparable products} and I cannot think of a better way to spend my money than by supporting a Jesus-loving momma who just wants the best for her little boy......

If you are interested in having a party, hit me up and I'll get you in touch with Alissa.

*Girls, can we have one of these every Friday night? I loved playing dress up and I enjoy a little make-believe but the only pretending my little d's are interested in involves ninjas and nunchucks.....and I'm just not a big fan of either.

Car Line Convos

2011-05-04T17:01:00.000-07:00

Today's version of 'Darnell's Say the Darndest', brought to you by your local sponsor.....

d1 – When did you graduate?
Me – Thirteen years ago {gasp!}
d1 – When did you get married?
Me – In 2003.
d1 – Why did you marry Daddy?
Me – I married Daddy because I love him. He is an amazing man.
d1 – Amazing? Really? Even when he farts? Because he does it all the time.
Me – Well……you do have a point. How about we keep that to ourselves and not share with the class this morning…..

As far as I know, d1 didn't go and share the specifics on his father's flatulence. Seriously, though. What is it about the car that sparks conversations like these? It wasn’t that long ago that I was subjected to pre-pubescent interrogation.....

This man I call my spouse is something else. It’s hard to describe him. Take the above picture, for example. The little boys didn’t suggest the goofy face – he did. Who else thinks he looks a little too much like Gilligan? {good call, Angie!} He is absolutely the ringleader in this little circus of ours. Sometimes it makes me insane. He does still find 'tooting' as funny as the 4-year-old but my research tells me that is the consensus with ALL males, young and old. Sure, finding his underwear on the kitchen counter makes me see red. Watching him ‘slice’ d2’s neck with the NerfAxe while wearing the Storm Trooper helmet and SuperMan cape has me wondering if he licked a can of lead paint as a child. Sometimes I want to strangle him for his childish behavior. I mean, is it any wonder why the children {not just ours} flock to him? HE'S STILL A KID. And yes, far too often I find myself screaming ‘GROW UP!’ but the truth is I love his sense of humor. I love watching him run like Forrest Gump. I love when he makes up dances from out of the blue. I absolutely love everything about him.

Note to self: tell him a little more often.

Love you, Big D.

A Royal Pain

2011-04-29T11:58:00.001-07:00

In honor of the Royal wedding that took place this morning across the pond, I give you 'A Royal Pain'....

I was flipping through some pictures the other day and came across one that brought back memories. Memories of sanity, even if I didn’t think so at the time. Memories of symmetry, where we played man-on-kid action with a 1:1 parent-child ratio. I can’t find the electronic copy of it and my scanner isn’t hooked up so I can’t show you but picture it -Sicily, 1924 {oh wait, that’s Sophia’s line on Golden Girls – oops!}. Rewind……picture it – Greer, 2008. I am the mother of two {2} {dos} fine, young men. We are enjoying a day in the sun at Century Park, taking in a t-ball game of d1. We, as in me and d2, since D1 is coaching. In this picture, I see my two-year-old d2 sitting so nicely on the bleachers, slowly eating his Teddy Grahams. I recall the sweet sound of him cheering his ‘bubby’ on. Oh, the memories.**

Let’s fast forward three short years. We’re at Century Park again, it’s still sunny, d1 is playing ball again and I still have a two-year-old {ok, a different one, obviously} but that’s the end of the parallel. That’s where the similarities stop. This is every Thursday night but, since last night’s recollections are still so dreadfully fresh in my mind, I’ll recount the ‘fun.’ I sat our lawn chairs next to the dugout in a way to barricade d3 in {which, P.S., he doesn’t find nearly as awesome as I would like him to} before heading to the adjacent park to burn off some energy prior to game time. When we came back to our sectioned-off seats, we watched the first pitch take place and then the cooler of chow was introduced. Most people bring a pack of crackers, maybe a bag of grapes for their toddler to snack on. I bring a buffet. No, really. Last night’s spread consisted of sandwiches, Goldfish, banana cookies, Ritz crackers, raisins, Twizzlers, chocolate eggs, applesauce, juice and water. Keep in mind that this is not an MLB game lasting 3 hours. We have a time limit of an hour-fifteen and yet he still blew through it all. And since he exceeded my expectations on his consumption, I pulled out my last resort – a sucker. No, I’m not against suckers but he just turned two and hasn’t had one yet. That helped hold his attention for a few additional minutes and I have made a mental note to bring multiple flavors next week…..and to buy extra-strength kiddy toothpaste before then.

After the grub is gone, I pulled out some toys from my bag of tricks. I even handed over my beloved iPhone and d2’s GameBoy {unbeknownst to him} for him to do whatever he wanted. Sadly, by the end of the 2nd inning, d3 was done with all of the above. I realized that we either needed to walk around or our fellow spectators would be treated to a full-fledged meltdown. But there’s this thing about d3. He’s an over achiever. In the words of Forrest Gump, if he {d3, not Forrest} is ever going somewhere, he is runNING. And he is fast. For a Shorty McBee with a St. Nick belly {from all the nutritional manna his mother provides}, he sure can disappear in the blink of an eye. I’ve already played the role of ‘Frantic Mother Searches For Lost Child’ last season in the same park and I really wasn’t interested in letting history repeat itself so I cannot, for one minute, lose sight of him. For the most part, I was triumphant. I mean, he did escape a few times but was quickly found. The first time he broke away, I found him trying to climb a very steep set of stairs. The second time, he was trying to enter the door of the concession stand. And the third {and fourth} time…..well, let’s just say he was only trying to be a part of the team. Just not our team. See below.

Thanks to BAC for the picture. It’s a sweet picture of her oldest boy, W, after wards where he was awarded the game ball for exceptional effort. Way to go, W! So, admire the picture and then follow the fuchsia arrows. Up top, you will see d3. A little down and to the left, you will see a box of chips. Where is Mommy? Oh, you won’t see me in the picture. But if we zoomed in enough, you would see that ornery little grin. Yes, he’s looking right at me and, if he could clearly speak, I believe he would be saying, ‘Come get me, Mommy. Here I am. But you won’t be able to catch me. Na-na na-na boo boo!’ And the significance of the chips? Well, on more than one occasion {the third and fourth times noted above}, I was removing his hand from that chip box. Or rather placing the chips back in the box. Our field was on the right side of this picture. The left side was another team and another team’s snack box. I was trying to pack up our chairs so that the next group of spectators could come in but every time I turned around, he was right back in the box. The nice team mom in charge of the beloved box of goodies eventually just told us that he could have one {after all, he had managed to get one bag open and she probably didn't want his leftovers} but I politely declined. I have my pride. Oh, who am I kidding. I should have just thanked her and went on....

Since we have many a Thursday nights ahead this season, I am re-evaluating my options. I’ve got a few things up my sleeve starting with the kiddie harness. Yes, I’m sure he will just love that. I'll take suggestions. Clearly this third child wants to keep me on my toes. Keep in mind that my goal is to please him AND watch my boy play ball. If I’m not watching the game, at least out of one eye, I might as well be in the comfort of my filthy home. I realize my expectations are a litle high for his age. I've already identified myself with that truth so let's not beat it to death. I am determined to make it work and pray that next year it gets easier. What can I bring, aside from a pony ride or a life-size Gobstopper, that will amuse him for an hour?

And I thought last year was bad.....pfft.

**{Confession - I do vaguely recall an incident following that picture-perfect photo when d2 flipped off the bleachers backwards. However, I prefer to revel in my fantasy world for a few minutes before I revert back to reality so, if you don’t mind….}

In Living Color

2011-04-26T04:28:00.000-07:00

A little over a month ago, I was approached by a friend to tape my testimony. She is a mental health counselor in a local high school and has a student that has a similar background to mine. She wanted this student to hear where I've been, what I've been through and who I am today. Now, thanks to the work of Alex Reynolds and Taylors First Baptist Church, my story is now more than just words. It's alive. I pray that God will use it to reach those hurting and hopeless. He is GOOD!

Click here to watch the short video.

Oh, Spring Break! How I Love Thee!

2011-04-19T08:24:00.000-07:00

It is FINALLY Spring Break in Greenville County and I emphasize ‘FINALLY’ because it feels like it took forever to get here. You would think my excitement would be related to a fabulous vacation but, alas, it does not have anything to do with being away from home. Just the opposite, actually. I am thrilled to pieces that we will be spending more time at home this week than we have the last few months. You see, Greer Rec and the YMCA also celebrate Spring Break which means no baseball practices, no soccer games, nothing. Sure, it equates to more backyard baseball where I tend to endure some physical pain but, in comparison, it is totally worth it. Though most of the craziness is attributed to the busy schedules of our little athletes, I’m also enjoying a break from packing lunches, writing checks for t-shirts, signing field trip forms, and all the other ‘fun’ stuff that comes with having children in school. How’s that for easy-to-please? I don’t need to be on a cruise to enjoy this observed school holiday. I can be perfectly content with a break from life…..

This short pause really couldn’t have come at a better time for me personally. I know that my ‘full plate’ is nobody’s fault but my own but WHEW. The month of April has been brutal so I’m hoping that May brings a bit less chaos. We’ve had school cook-outs, birthday parties, school plays, Easter Egg Hunts, CareGroup dinners, bible studies, children's shelter.....and it’s only the 19th of the month with a few more activities left to round out April, including an Easter weekend homeless feeding. In between attending all of the above AND the twice-a-week sporting events, I’ve been working on some articles for our church that I need to finish by the end of the month. I am both excited and flattered to be given the opportunity to serve the Lord in a new capacity and want to give it my absolute all but it has taken some extra time-management skills on my part to work it in this busy schedule. Oh and remember my testimony? We filmed it yesterday. On camera. After a couple weeks of editing my story, I spent 3.5 hours in the studio with the fabulous Alex Reynolds at TFBC and I’m excited to see his stellar skills pulling it all together……stay tuned for the final product.

This post is really not a grumble. I hope it doesn’t sound that way. For those of you who have been asking me when I’m going to post the latest ‘funny’ on my blog, I wanted you to know that it’s not because I’m phasing out of the blogging business. {oh wait, business might imply that I earn money....PSA - I do NOT}. And it’s definitely NOT from lack of material because the boys would never allow that to happen. I love blogging and would write all day long if I could. For now, I’m trying to evaluate and prioritize my to-do list the way Jesus might. Serving the homeless, sharing my story and spending time with the fam? I have a feeling He might concur. If it means I’m a little more scatter-brained and watch a little less TV, I’m okay with that. It's all relative in the grand scheme of eternity....

**PS - Thank you, D1, for being so supportive and encouraging this month. You are amazing!

**PPS - I have plenty of funny stories from the little d's. Just ask me. Especially after a trip to Pizza Inn on Senior Citizen night.....

Never Say Never

2011-04-11T10:36:00.000-07:00

Today I used my lunch hour to run some errands. Bank, gas station, Goodwill - you know, the exciting stuff. Until today, the only thing I did at Goodwill was deliver my junk. Today, I tried out a different verb at Goodwill, one I never thought I would – I shopped . And you know something? It was pretty sweet.

As a girl, I have memories of my mom shopping Goodwill and Salvation Army for our clothes. Now, I would like to think that I got my thrill of bargain hunting from her and that she was simply trying to get the best deal so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt but, nonetheless, it was embarrassing. Maybe this was another ‘vow’ to myself that I would never be to a level in life that we had to shop at thrift stores. Shallow, I know. What’s so awesome is that I don’t have to shop here but now I want to shop here. It may take a little longer to weed through the inventory but God has provided for us so tremendously and I really want to be a good steward of his provisions. I don’t know why I ever thought that I was above shopping at these types of places. I have no problem getting free food from couponing and enjoy a good consignment sale but, for some reason, I felt this was different.

I'm not sure but I think I'm being taught some level of humility {except is it humility if I admit humility?}. I’ve mentioned my bible study and how convicting it is in all areas, this being one. I also think the stage that my boys are in right now is helping further this desire to not ~~throw away~~ spend large amounts of money on clothing that they will inevitably ruin. I’m not only saving money, I’m saving Mommy a few meltdowns every time I see a new stain or hole in the pants. Maybe it will help me to just ‘let them be’ a little more, knowing that those pants only cost $3, not $30. Right now, when I see a new hole, I have a burning desire to find one of their favorite balls and put a hole in it except I probably bought that toy, too and, they have a gazillion balls and probably wouldn't give a flip.

Allow me to share my deals. I am way excited - can you tell? I mean, we had to know I would get to this point. I’ve conquered Publix and CVS {and still get a total thrill from walking out of both stores with oodles of deals!} so thrift stores had to be somewhere in the progressive path of frugality.

Here we go. Yes, I'm noting the brands because, yes, I’m a brand snob. I’m dealing with one flaw at a time:

d1 jeans {Old Navy cargo}
d1 polo shirt {Target}
D1 khaki cargo shorts {Old Navy} x 2
D2 {that’s me!} dressy top {NY&Co}

So, if you were paying attention, I left with 5 {FIVE} like-new items for a grand total of $16.62! If I would have gone to Target, even on the clearance racks, no way could I have left without paying at least twice that amount. What's even better is that the proceeds are used to help individuals and families in obtaining employment and assisting in several other ways. This lines right up with our heart for the homeless and our hope and desire for them to break the vicious cycle. As I write this, we are working with church staff in developing a church-wide outreach beyond monthly feedings that we hope will ultimately changes lives. Amazing how His plan continues to unfold in such simple ways.

All this to say – give peace, er, Goodwill a chance……

GOAL!

2011-04-06T17:00:00.000-07:00

Last night was d2's first soccer game. Turns out he's pretty awesome. He scored 5 goals and looked super cute in his uniform. What? It's relevant. I want him to look good as he's running over his opponents. We even figured out the socks this time.....

What happened to my little boy? Does he not look like he's 12 years old here? Geez Louise.

Taking it to the goal

Is he trash talking in this picture? It sort of looks like it but I know my son would never do such a thing. I know my son would never dream of running his mouth during a competitive sport. I know his daddy taught him better.

We loved watching d2 excel and just have fun but we also enjoyed seeing d1 get fired up for his little brother. He ran up and down the sidelines, cheering him on as he dominated the game. They have their moments where they seem to despise each other but to see the pride that d1 had for d2 last night just warmed my heart.

The other brother was, however, not as thrilled to be a spectator. His only interests were running off to the mud puddles and moving the boundary cones off of the field. I can see now that between d2's soccer games and d1's baseball games, it's going to be a long season with the chunky little feller. However, I have a strategy for tomorrow night's game. Oh, and it's a good one. I'm not going to feed him dinner. Yes, you read that right. I am going to withhold his meal at home and then take it with us to the ball field, in hopes that he becomes famished and wants nothing more than to eat it DURING THE GAME. Maybe that's a bit excessive but if it works, I will have no shame. In fact, if it works, I will feel quite proud of myself for thinking up such a ~~cruel~~ genius plan. Until you've chased children around a busy park, thus missing the other child's at-bat or double play, you wouldn't understand. I can recall many a time this past basketball season when, after the game, d1 would say, 'Mommy, did you see my shot?' and I just had to smile, nod and pretend I had seen it because, in reality, I had missed it thanks to d3 wandering off and crawling under the bleachers or following a stranger into the men's restroom. Desperate times call for desperate measures. No guilt.

Let's Party

2011-04-03T11:03:00.000-07:00

What possessed me to think it was possible to cook AND clean for a party and expect it to stay tidy while I turn my back to prepare the food? My Birthday Boy is a 34lb human destroyer. He has a ridiculous collection of tractors, trucks and trains to play with but he would rather empty the contents of Hi Ho Cherry-O and CandyLand onto the playroom floor. Do I sense a theme here?

And cooking with small children? Brilliant idea. d2 offered to help me prepare the food and I said ‘yes.’ He must have waited until my daily pot of coffee was consumed. He knows good and well that I’m a lot more patient and I say ‘yes’ a lot more than usual when I have a caffeine high. Looking back, it probably wouldn’t have taken so long if I had done it myself. I lost count of how many times I had to stop and send him back to the sink to wash. Hands inside the back of your pants? Go wash. Nose picking? Go wash. Sneezing and couldn’t get your elbow to your nose in time so your hands caught the snot? Go wash. Hands inside the front of your pants? Go wash. And then I heard the, ‘What will happen?’ question a hundred times. ‘What will happen if I put my booger in this pudding?’ My boy is smart so I couldn’t understand why he kept asking me that question. I mean, do you really want to know the answer to that? Do you need me to verbally express to you that I will hurl you across the room if that spit you are slurping in and out of your mouth, the technique that was perfected by your father, lands in my baked beans? Guess I thought it was implied. I know this is just the phase he’s in right now, asking questions and testing boundaries but ask me a question on the transformation of a butterfly or something elementary like that. Don’t ask me a question you already know the answer and that never ends well for you. Oh, and no male genital questions, either.

In any case, little d3’s party went well yesterday. We had a family dinner and he had lots of fun. I made a cake and, in my personal opinion, it was a disaster. What was supposed to be a basketball on top of a goal looked more like the top half of a BigMac. Tinting of frosting is NO fun. I never get it to the shade I want. In no way do I believe I have a gift for baking because I just don’t. For the record, I wanted to make him an owl cake. The owl cake consisted of two colors of frosting – vanilla and chocolate. There is no manual tinting involved there. But D1 lobbied for the basketball because that’s what d3 does all day long. Yes, and he’s technically not even 2 until Thursday. At least d3 loves basketball AND he loves to eat so it was a win-win for him.

Happy Birthday, little guy! Mommy and Daddy love you to pieces! Bubby and Day-Day think you’re pretty cool, too! Oh, and feel free to slow this growing up process down...

Poop, Pants & Playtime

2011-03-30T10:11:00.000-07:00

My family. Bless their hearts. They make me laugh, they make me cry {happy, sad and unbelievably mad tears}, but they also bring me to the point of shouting, ‘What in the world?’ numerous times a day, although a few other phrases may or may not pop into my head, depending on the gravity of the situation. I really do believe I have a sense of humor but evidently not as large as it needs to be to survive these lunatics that call me Mom and Wife.

Sunday night, D1 and I were doing bath time. We work some killer tag team action and have a pretty standard routine established. One washes while the other picks up the dirty clothing {scattered to and fro in their mad dash to the tub} and lays out the jams. This particular night, I was on Mommy Maid Duty and as I was lifting a pair of undies {poor McQueen - those racing stripes should be black, not brown}, I noticed a spot on the bathroom rug, a spot strangely resembling poop. Based on the fact that the spot is dry and hardened, I figured it must be mud. When I tell D1 that I thought it was poop, he said, ‘Oh, no. You're right. It is poop. I forgot about that. It happened a few days ago.’ WHAT.IN.THE.WORLD. You forget your lunch money, maybe even your kid at daycare. But POOP on the RUG? I just can't get my mind around how one can forget that. It’s kind of, oh, I don’t know, SIGNIFICANT.

Let’s not forget about my incident yesterday. I had agreed to swing by and grab some files from a practice located near our house and then meet a colleague, J, to hand them off. Instead of driving home, dropping d2 and d3 with D1 and finally heading out for the files, I decided it would just be easier to take them with me. I could just run in, get the files, run out, drive to the meeting place and hand the files out the window. They would never even have to un-buckle. What could possibly go wrong? Clearly I don’t give my children enough credit. As we are sitting in the parking lot, waiting for J to arrive, d2 was reading a book in the backseat. Next thing I know, J pulls up and starts toward the car. Just before she gets to my window, I turn around to find d2’s pants around his ankles. WHAT.IN.THE.WORLD. Oh, his undies were on, thank goodness, but what was I supposed to do? I could draw attention to him and yell, ‘Pull up your draws, boy!’ or I could pretend I didn’t know and hope she doesn’t poke her head in to say hello. I went with plan B and am hopeful she didn’t sneak a peek at my ‘precious children.’ I'm also grateful that d3 held on to his copy of 'Fox in Socks' and didn't hurl the board book at my head until after J got back in her car. I would like to keep up the facade that my boys are well-behaved and that I've got it together for as long as possible. Note to self: never underestimate the potential of a preschooler to mortify their mother.

Since we’re {not} on the subject of precious children, does anyone else have to play some crazy games at 3am with their itty bitty? The other night d3 woke up crying. Based on his increased whininess, chronic clinginess and fingers-shoved-in-the-mouth syndrome, my professional diagnosis is protruding molars and I’m assuming that’s what caused him to wake up in the middle of the night. As experienced parents know, there’s not a whole lot you can do for them during these times. We’ve tried teething tablets {eh, they’re okay}, Orajel {disgusting and NEVER helped our kids}, whiskey {or so I’ve heard…..} and Motrin. We usually only go with the latter {Motrin, NOT whiskey – unless someone tells me it helps?!?} if he’s inconsolable but usually with a little rocking and a lotta lovin’, he’s able to get back to sleep. Well, on this particular night, that was just not the case. I rocked him until I fell asleep, which I then felt certain HE was asleep. When I put him back in his crib, he started squirming and, though he wasn’t crying, he was on the verge. I didn’t have to be holding him, I just had to be there touching him. So I sat on my knees and stroked his hair until, again, I was SURE he was asleep. As I removed my hand and started to stand up, my good ole’ 30-almost-31-year-old knees made some awful cracking noises and d3 sat straight up. There went that. Back to my knees I went but this time I was forming a plan. Since my legs were too noisy, I decided that I was going to crawl. Because I was afraid he might still see the shadow of my back as I crawled out the door, I went out on my belly, slithering like a snake. WHAT.IN.THE.WORLD. {....and I was a little sore the next morning - you don't really practice 'the slither' in Zumba} I guess this is one way to get Mommy to play Jungle Animals. It's too bad we don't have cameras in his room. We just might have won a few bucks on my 'sneaky' exit.

I like this last story. It makes me sound like an incredibly selfless mother that can’t stand for her child to cry. In all actuality, crying doesn’t bother me. I can usually sleep through it. I just had no burning desire for the other two boys to hear him wailing and wake up any earlier than usual to join us for the BIG fun. After all, 6am is early enough. And maybe, just maybe, during that rocking session, I started thinking how my ‘baby’ will be TWO next week and that, soon enough, he won’t ask me to ‘wok’ him anymore. Though d3 was a bit of a 'surprise,' God certainly knew what He was doing. His plan continues to unfold everyday and we are simply amazed at what He has done and continues to do in the 'D' Family.

Stay tuned......

A Day In The Life....

2011-03-24T08:33:00.000-07:00

.....of a mom of boys.

Disclaimer: The following conversations are authentic re-enactments, though a bit indecent. Consider yourself warned.

With the preschool teacher –

Ms. S – ‘Mrs. Darnell, we had a little incident today. Apparently d2 {and some of his friends} are going through a curious stage involving nudity. Today he drew a picture of his daddy. In his picture, his daddy was naked and his picture was very, ahem, detailed.’

Me – ‘Well, thank goodness he chose daddy for his art project and not me.’

On the afternoon commute –

Me – ‘Did you have a good day at school?’
d2 – ‘Yes, ma’am.’
Me – ‘What fun things did you do?’
d2 – ‘We had preschool graduation and show-and-tell. I also played on the computer. But when I got up from the computer, my winky was bigger. Somehow it grew. And it’s growing right now. Why, Mommy?’

Me – ‘Oh. Well then. Look at that big airplane. Ooh, I have some gum. Would you like a piece? Let’s listen to some music.’

Come on. Did you really think I was going to educate my 4 year old son, right then and there, on the male body and all the nifty tricks it can do? Not a chance. Luckily, he didn’t pursue it further, thanks to my awesome re-direction techniques. For the record, these convos were both in the same day. In fact, within the same hour. Lucky me, right?

I will say that when the day comes that D1 sits down and explains some of these facts of life, I might include myself in that discussion. Not so much to be a contributor but more a supervisor. Now, don’t get me wrong. D1 is THE best daddy. All three of these boys adore him. However, though he’s almost 33 years old, D1’s maturity level hasn’t quite caught up with his true age. And although I would say that he’ll be responsible for what advice or information he communicates, it will inevitably be ME that ends up in the grocery store with them, ALONE, when they decide to shout out their highly inappropriate knowledge. And it will happen.

Yes, that day described above was full of shock and stupor on my part. I knew it wouldn't be long before I would have to face these types of situations but somethings you just can’t quite prepare for. This was one of them, especially the latter.

So, not only was d2 asked to not draw any more naked people followed by questions that I could not answer but then we didn’t even dress him right for his first soccer practice. How was I supposed to know the shin guards go under the socks?

I think he's still a little hacked about art time being censored....

I Want What I Want When I Want It

2011-03-21T12:54:00.000-07:00

According to my dear, sweet spouse, yesterday’s post was about ‘nothing’ so I guess that’s my cue to step up my game and write about ‘something.’ Good news – I didn’t have to think too hard.

OK, so back it up. As I was preparing for my weekly bible study lesson, I was overcome with serious conviction as we study anxiety, fear and, most of all, discontentment. It’s so relevant in my daily life and I have a hunch that I’m not alone. There's a funny thing about conviction. It's not always an easy pill to swallow but it’s actually pretty comforting. You see, if I were not feeling convicted by my sinful actions, committed on a DAILY basis, I might start to wonder about my salvation because if the Spirit resides in you, you will feel it when you gossip, worry and doubt. Yes, we are human but these are still sins. I’m learning all about them in my bible study with some of the greatest group of girlies. Oh, and with a little help from Jerry Bridges' book titled, 'Respectable Sins.' Trust me, it’s not like I open a chapter and think, ‘Oh, YES! I can totally relate.’ It’s more like, ‘Oh, NO! I am so guilty of this, that and the other.’ What’s important is that we’re learning from each other and working on ways to make changes in our actions and behaviors that will set good examples for our children but, more importantly, to glorify Jesus. I want nothing more than to be a shining light but I’ve definitely got some work to do.

Although I’ve been able to identify with every ‘respectable sin’ thus far, this week’s topic of discontentment is very near and un-dear to my heart. It’s really sad at how I struggle to be content. I really have to pray about it and some days I feel like throwing the towel in and waving the white flag. Although I could probably name several, there are two areas in particular that I wrestle the most – my identity and my family.

I think I beat the topic of self esteem/worth/confidence to death so allow me to share the family issues. Within that family category, I have two sub-categories {us Type-A’s need lists and outlines} – I long for {normal} parents and I long for a baby girl. With all that I have been abundantly blessed with, I’m ashamed to even admit these yearnings but I’m guessing I’m not alone and to share them helps me to face them.

Though my testimony gave lots of background on my parents, I didn’t discuss the present situation. It’s not great. It’s not as bad as it used to be but it’s still strained and distant, at best. I haven’t seen my mother in almost 10 years. We speak on the phone maybe four times a year. She’s never met our boys and I’m not sure she ever will. Sure, I would like to have a relationship with her for myself but, more than that, I want it for my children. I see other kids with their grandparents, the loving relationships they have and the cherished memories they are creating and I hurt for what my boys will likely never experience with my mother. Now, I have forgiven my mother, several years ago actually. That's not a problem anymore. I don’t harbor anger towards her at all. I just hurt. I just want to be content with what I have.

Maybe that’s a big reason why I long for a little girl. A good friend once told me that I needed a little girl to realize that not all mother/daughter relationships are like my childhood was and I think she’s right. I just wish the feeling would go away. Now, I had three extremely easy pregnancies that yielded three healthy, incredibly vibrant little boys and I do not ever take any of that for granted. But for whatever reason, I can’t stop thinking about the little girl that I never had. It’s not impossible for us to have more children but last time I checked, God still controls gender selection and His will doesn’t seem to be in alignment with mine. I know there’s a reason for that. I know there is. I’m sure He knows that D1 might beat a girl for trying to escape with the word ‘Juicy’ on the booty of her short-shorts. Maybe He’s thinking of how awful that poor child’s hair would look when I attempt to braid it....or even insert a barrette, for that matter. Maybe He's sparing us both. I know full well that all babies are a blessing, that I’ve got enough disorder in my house for the next 18 years and I don’t know that there’s a burning desire to further that timeline. I just want to be content with what I have.

From this chapter, though, I've learned that contentment comes from 'accept(ing) your circumstances from God,’ trusting that He knows what is best for you. He also goes on to share a quote:

Lord, I am willing to –
Receive what you give
Lack what you withhold
Relinquish what you take

Short and sweet yet heavy and deep. And absolutely perfect. Here’s to receiving, lacking and relinquishing together…..

Secrets & Admissions

2011-03-20T17:09:00.000-07:00

It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m blogging on the couch. Perhaps you’re thinking, ‘So? What’s the big deal?’ but I’m bragging because this doesn’t happen very often. In fact, this NEVER happens but after our nap today, D1 offered to take the boys out for a few hours to give me some quiet time. Awesome, right? Now, my Sunday routine is pretty much the same – nap, laundry, cooking, laundry, baths, laundry, bed – yes, truly exciting. Try not to envy me too much. And I imagine D1’s intent was to give me quiet time to do all of these tasks but without the added stress of refereeing and disciplining that come with the kids being here. For this, I am extremely grateful. It’s so peaceful to load the dishwasher, sweep the floor and clean the poop off the toilet seats to the beat of Chris Tomlin as opposed to the screams courtesy of a biting toddler. {Side note – though we’ve managed to avoid the yellow ring around the base of the toilets lately, why is it that I have to carry a Lysol wipe with me each time I need to use the bathroom? It’s just not right. A public restroom? Expected. My own commode? Not cool. } So to my husband – thank you for speaking my love language and sparing me the headache! Unfortunately, I didn’t get near as much accomplished. I felt like I needed to seize the moment of peace and just relax. Turns out my definition of relax does not include folding Diego undies so here I am on the couch……

I bet some of you are wondering about that nap comment above. Or maybe you’re not. Either way, here’s one of our family secrets. We do have family naps every Saturday and Sunday afternoon and it is something I very much look forward to. I think our success comes from us actually napping with the boys. Now, maybe you’re someone that would just like to have that extra hour of cleaning or clearing the DVR while they sleep. Not me. I like sleep. I desire to have more of it. And although I cherish the actual slumbering, the truly special part for us is the one-on-one time we get with the boy we’re napping with. In a family of multiple children, that alone time is not easy to come by but this is one way we have kept it going. Granted, it’s not in their Top 10 Weekend Highlights but I think they realize it’s not going to change so they might as well save their breath and deal.

This week our family schedule returns to the ‘slammed’ position as d2 begins soccer practice. I’ll admit that as I was writing our week’s activities out on the dry-erase board on the fridge, a part of me wanted to cry, stomp and whine but then I remember that these days won’t last forever. I hear it all the time from parents of grown children and I do believe I will miss this phase. Sometimes I want to scream, 'Oh really? When?' but I really am trying to remember that this doesn't last forever. I also know that we could say ‘no’ more than we do but I feel like our priorities are in the right place and that what we’re busy doing are worthwhile and beneficial. The fact that I work full-time is a choice we decided was best for our family and, though it’s tough juggling, I refuse to let my boys miss out on anything because of my decisions. At least until next year when d3 starts t-ball. You know, since three boys and two parents creates a bit of a logistical problem. Maybe d3 will settle for being a cheerleader instead of a ball player. What? Don't judge. I'm sure I could find him a ‘manly’ outfit….

Speaking of ball players, here’s my posse before a friend’s baseball birthday party. Maybe pictures like this will pass as d3's t-ball days. I mean, does he really need to be on a team to call himself a t-ball player? It's a matter of opinion but he sure does make a cute little slugger....

An Inside Look at Family Time....

2011-03-16T06:43:00.000-07:00

Between their fidgets, giggles and fights, it's hard to say whether they actually absorbed any of the content. And how about d3's toy? Apparently he is developing a love for the weapons, too. Fabulous.

A Life Lesson

2011-03-15T09:53:00.000-07:00

Spring has sprung in the South! The pear trees are stunning in all their white glory, the days are longer, and the warm weather is a natural mood lifter. Now, the negative, glass-half-empty part of me could focus on how the blooming trees ~~stink~~ smell like a mixture of antifreeze and dead sardines. I could complain that longer daylight means more backyard baseball, and for me it means sweaty pits and strained hammies. I could also remember how last year's scorching temps put our power bill through the roof. I could choose that line of thinking. However, I refuse to dwell on anything but that of which brings JOY. For today, I choose JOY.

Unfortunately, that was not my motto yesterday. I don’t know what my problem was but I was just unpleasant. Plain and simple. Right before bed, I told D1 that I was in a 'funk.' When I’m in a mood like that, I’m just not nice. And since we had the windows open to allow the ~~pollen~~ fresh air in and I just happen to have a voice that 'carries', the entire neighborhood was treated to my snippity words. Several times, D1 called me on it {which further escalated said miffed mood}. PSA – there’s a house for sale behind us – who wants to buy it? I promise I’ll close the windows when I want to groan and grumble.

Gosh, it seemed like I was going somewhere with this. Oh. Right. Yesterday. So, because of such nice weather, the boys were outside the entire afternoon. There are two little boys in our neighborhood that often come over and want to play. All is fine until another little boy, an older one, comes around. Yesterday we witnessed this older boy treating d1, and ONLY d1, unfairly. It wasn’t physical and there’s really no need to go into details. It bothered us more than him but it’s not easy to watch your child be mistreated. Now, it's no secret that d1 isn’t always the best ‘friend.’ He’s Mr. Bossy-Boss, he runs his mouth far too much and prefers things done a certain way – HIS way. If I’m being honest, there might even be a small, itsy-bitsy part of me that thinks maybe he deserves a taste of his own medicine. Apparently I did not feel that way yesterday. We told our boys to come in the house and told the friends they needed to go on home. Now don’t hear what I’m not saying. We were not harsh to these neighbor boys {although the voices in my head might have had a few additional words but they remained unspoken}. When d1 came in, he was obviously upset and confused. He wasn’t doing anything wrong so why did he have to come in? When we explained to him why and how we didn’t think he should play with kids that treat him like that, what he said was simple but significant. He said, ‘But I don’t care. They’re my friends.’ On the surface, it's just a child pleading to go outside a little longer but it resonated a bit longer in me and truly stung. I knew right then that we had handled the situation entirely the wrong way. We can read about it all day long in stories from 2,000 years ago but when it's right there in your home, it's very real and painful. Not only were we setting the wrong example for our boys, we were advising them to turn from ‘those’ kids. Matthew 5:38-42 tells us to ‘not resist an evil person…..’ This is the simple, ‘Love your neighbor’ lesson and we’re essentially telling them to do the opposite. Shame on us.

This morning D1 sat d1 down at breakfast and explained to him that Mommy and Daddy were wrong. He explained to him that, although his friends were not treating him kindly, we should pray for them and show them love through our words and actions. After all, we don’t know their hearts. What if these are opportunities for our children to witness to these other little boys, to demonstrate the love of Jesus during playtime? What if they’ve never heard the Good News? {Which, PS, is quite possible - not all Greenville County schools allow 'The Good News Club' in their schools and that is LUDICROUS but that's another topic for another day. I might be ready to organize a protest....} My point is that the playground could absolutely be their own little mission field. Envision that. Are you smiling? Because I am.

I’ll admit that, at first, D1 felt more convicted about this than I did. Yes, I knew it was wrong but in my selfish little mind, I justified it. After all, I was only protecting my child. Isn't that what a mother does? We birth, feed, bathe and protect.....and then some. I'm not saying that I think protecting my child was wrong but 1) we approached it entirely the wrong way and 2) I can’t always be there when that happens again and it will happen again. What I can do is work every day to equip him with the right tools to handle these situations, instead of teaching him to run away from them. These are the situations I should be praying to happen, just so I have the opportunity to teach. Instead, what should have been a relevant life lesson on forgiveness and prayer ended up a poor example of hypocrisy and bitterness.

I also think my faith was tested and I received a big, fat (F)ail. When my child is hurt, I hurt. I want to fix it. I want to hurt the one that hurt mine and that’s human. This is where I’ve got to stand on my faith. I’ve got to practice what I preach. There is nothing Christ-like about retaliation. We are called to be set apart, to walk the narrow path and have faith that God will comfort and protect us. We sing, ‘If our God is with us, then what can stand against?’ and I believe it but are my actions reflecting that belief? Uh, negative.

True, in the end, we {fine, D1} were able to salvage this moment and turn it into a teachable one for the kids but one thing is for sure. d1 taught us a lesson without even knowing it. When he said, ‘I don’t care. They’re my friends,’ I believe that’s what Jesus says about us. Everytime we sin, which is a daily struggle for me, He doesn’t turn his back on us, just like we don't turn our back on our children. I believe he says, ‘You are forgiven – yesterday, today, tomorrow, forever. Now, let’s work on that problem together.’

Hodge Podge

2011-03-09T16:58:00.000-08:00

One day I might start posting pictures again but I’ve taken very few in the last month and, to be honest, I can’t locate the camera. My only hope is that it wasn’t disposed of in the trash. That might sound a little bizarre but, lately, we are losing things at a much faster rate than ever before and I think it’s safe to say that instead of playing in the toilet, d3’s new hobby is finding things that are important to Mommy and Daddy and putting them in the trash. Now, the camera would have been hard to get away with so I am still hopeful that he just hid it from us but the remote to our ceiling fan is a bit smaller and has been missing a good two weeks now. I’m fairly certain it’s been smashed to smithereens at the landfill and the fan will now be but a mere piece of non-functional decor. Yes, I can buy a replacement but hello? Those things are not cheap but I am.

OK, so no pictures. We’ve established the rationale behind that. Let’s move on. I haven’t really given ‘updates’ to what we’re doing these days and, since we do have so much family and friends out of state, this is a good place to log it so that they can keep up with the comings and goings of the crazies.

d1 is nearing the end of first grade. Academically, he’s rocking it out. We couldn’t be more pleased. Behaviorally, he still struggles with talking – out of turn, at extreme decibel levels, etc. I don’t tell him this but I’ll tell you this – I had the √ rather than the + in those areas until, probably, middle school. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut to save my life. Oh, and he’s still the class tattler. That must be from his dad’s side. I mean, I was chatty-chatter but I wasn’t about to throw a friend under the bus. I had standards, after all. d1 finished basketball and has already jumped right into baseball {with dad as coach again}. Yay for baseball games with a restless, mobile toddler who, even with snacks, refuses to let me watch a full inning and only wants to be on the field. Yay.

On the way to school today, we had this conversation:

d1 – Walker’s mom has a Smart car.
Me – Oh. What’s a Smart car?
d1 – {irritated sigh} It’s a car that’s very smart, Mommy. {insert eye roll} DUH!

I can see that sarcastic discussions are in our future with this one. Oh, how I look forward to those. I only wish I knew where he learned that repugnant style of communicating….

d1 is also recovering from a bout of strep throat. Thankfully, we have been able to avoid the nasty flu and all the other funk that has been going around but it got one of our ‘men’ this week and he was out of school one day. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy his sickness just a little bit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to have healthy children and know that we have much to be thankful for but when they’re sick, particularly d1, the household in general just runs so much smoother. His little lethargic body just doesn’t have the energy to torment his younger brothers or to argue incessantly over NOTHING. And getting him to sit still for longer stretches is so refreshing. Oh and such a sweet boy when he’s sick. It’s almost like he’s lost the ability to be hateful and selfish. He’ll say things like, ‘Mommy, you look so pretty today.’ So what if it’s followed by, ‘…..can you get me some juice?’ Kind words from his lips can be hard to come by. I’m not opposed to verbal manipulation.

d2 is finishing up his last year in preschool. I actually just ordered his preschool graduation t-shirt today. It’s hard to believe that little guy is heading to ‘big school’ very soon. Today he received a treat from his most-awesome teacher because he counted to 100 in class. According to my husband-teacher, this is a kindergarten standard so he’s already ahead of the game. I’m proud but not surprised. This one is going to be a studious little thing. He already asks some pretty deep questions {he can usually squeeze in 20-22 on average in the morning commute, maybe more if he had a shot of apple juice before leaving home} and it’s obvious he ponders the answer for a while. I am excited to see what K-5 brings for him. He’s done with basketball and starts soccer in a couple of weeks. Our first soccer player in the family…….

As I mentioned before, d3 stays busy wrecking the house. Besides eating ridiculously large, adult-sized portions at every meal, destruction is what he does best. Fortunately, I’ve reached the ‘I just don’t care’ juncture in my life where cleanliness is concerned. It’s taken seven years, three filthy children and one slovenly husband but, unless we’re having guests, I just let it be. I never thought I’d get to this point but I’m here and it feels surprisingly good. He loves when we read to him. As of late, his vocabulary now includes, 'Ah, man,' 'Amen,' and 'okay,' though we're still working on comprehension. When I tell him not to hit his brother with the spatula, he'll say okay but walk right over and do the very thing I told him not to do. We are coming up on his 2nd birthday next month. I’ll admit. Every now and then, I feel a small surge of sadness that my baby is growing up but then he’ll have an explosive diaper or toss his plate of tacos on the carpet and, just as quickly as it came, that surge is gone.

The Main Thing

2011-03-07T15:17:00.000-08:00

Sundays have become my favorite day of the week. Not only is it a day to spend with my family but I also get to spend it in God’s house with friends and loved ones. Now, that’s not to say that it’s all peaches and petunias. It does require some planning on ~~our~~ my part to make sure that clothes are clean and laid out, breakfast options are express-style and I have enough suckers in my purse to keep d1 mute during the worship service. Those are the struggles of today, really just minor details.

Not so long ago, though, my struggle was of a deeper nature. I wasn’t so sure I belonged in church. I had so many skeletons in my closet that I didn’t understand how I could possibly be accepted among any church body because certainly they couldn’t relate. Man how wrong I was. The first church we attended, and were later baptized in, accepted everyone. Though it was of the Baptist denomination, it didn’t matter who you were, where you came from, what you were dressed in or why you chose to show up. They made that very clear and, because of that, I felt welcome. I often wonder what my life might be like today if that church hadn’t graciously opened their arms to sinners like me. Would I still be lost? This is significant so pay attention.

And now is where it gets uncomfortable. You may not like what I have to say and if it gets to be too much, just remember that little black ‘X’ at the top right-hand corner of the page, though I do hope you’ll stick it out and see where I’m going.

Though I don’t expect the church we’re in now to be exactly the same as that of the church we once were a part of, I do expect the same purpose. These days, I’m not so sure. These days, I’m seeing many church members chucking complaints all over the place. The sanctuary was too hot, the preacher didn’t wear a tie, the music was too long/loud, the church schedule doesn’t fit my schedule……and the list goes on. Maybe this is just for my own personal reflection but here are my thoughts:

• If the temperature isn’t right, good news! The service doesn’t last 10 hours. Before long, you’ll be home and back to your perfect bubble in no time.

• If the preacher didn’t wear a tie and it peeves you, good news! It doesn’t affect the message and that’s all that matters.

• If the music isn’t your style or the church schedule doesn’t fit your family schedule, good news! We have three services to fit all styles. Choose another. No one knows better than me that changing a schedule with small children is not easy. However, it’s one day a week and, to me, Jesus is worth it.

These are true grievances that I have heard firsthand, some I may have even felt here or there but I am now overwhelmed with conviction. I’m not writing this to hurt anyone but if it does, I’m sorry. I’ve never been good at keeping my opinion to myself. I see no reason to start now.

So why is this weighing so heavily? For me, it's easy. I know where my salvation lies. I know that if I die today, I will spend eternity in heaven. Therefore, I come to church to worship the God that loves me. I come to church to serve the God that provides for me. I really try to be cognizant of the fact that, though every little element of my church may not be perfect, it’s not all about me. Did you hear that? IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT US. We need to keep the main thing the main thing. Yes, changes are being made but these are not ungodly changes. In fact, it’s just the opposite. Our church is seeking God’s will. We are seeking to reach and save the lost, those that will go straight to hell if someone does not share Jesus with them. Maybe things aren't 'how they've always been' but the world is not the same as it was 50 years ago, either. Paul tells the Colossian church that ‘Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving Christ.’ {Colossians 3:22-24}

If it weren’t for the contemporary praise and preaching styles, I may never have stepped foot into that first church where I was saved, baptized and forever changed. Because that church had an eternal perspective and a love for the lost, I was rescued. Today, if we reach just one person in all our many uncomfortable changes, we have glorified God.

I would like to think one life, my life, was worth it.

Accountability and a Story

2011-03-05T09:38:00.000-08:00

After posting earlier this week on my own personal spiritual warfare, I’ve re-read the message a few times. Naturally, the compulsive, neurotic, spelling-and-grammar checking fiend that I am found usage errors here and there as well as areas that I thought, ‘Huh, I could have said this instead of that’ but what I really question is why I selected to memorize three in my verse commitment. I honestly gave no thought to it at the time. Maybe because it’s the number of children I have. That is an obvious explanation. Or perhaps it’s because I was eating cookie #3 {of 6} at the time of my cyber-babbling. And let’s not forget that my Type-A nature also thrives on even numbers so that further confuses me as to why I chose three verses as opposed to two or four. {Note: my desire to have even numbers does not apply to my reproductive role so don’t start any rumors.} After diving in and examining the Word, I think I know why. Though there are hundreds of verses that are applicable to this particular season in my life, there were three that really stuck. I also think God knows my brain is at maximum capacity and, most days, running on fumes from all the disorder that raising three boys brings so this is probably all I can handle right now.

And there you have it. Deep, I know. Were you expecting some profound revelation? You shouldn't have. I’m a simpleton. And because I am a simpleton {is that even a word because it’s not receiving a red squiggly that would indicate otherwise?}, I don’t need or want complex. I need straight forward which is why my chosen verses below are in the NLT version. To me, New Living Translation also means No Large Text.

*Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand. - Isaiah 41:10

Now that’s easy to comprehend but how many times a day do we get discouraged and so easily forget? Oh, just every other minute…..

*But the LORD said to Samuel, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The LORD doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” - 1 Samuel 16:7

People judge by the outside, the Lord looks at the inside. Got it.

*The thief’s purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life. – John 10:10

I think this is my favorite. Satan’s purpose is to harm, yet God desires a rich life for me. End of story.

I wholeheartedly believe that not only learning these verses but BELIEVING in them is going to strengthen me in all areas of my life but I also want to share one last thing. Just today, I had a great friend tell me the story about Moses and the battle with the Amalekites, specifically with how it pertains to the topic of insecurity. You see, as long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses grew tired, Aaron and Hur held his hands up for him and, thus, Israel defeated the Amalekites. I had never heard this story before or, if I had, I didn’t understand it the way I do now but I find it so relevant here. We can’t do this alone. Everyday life wears us down and we need to lean on others to fight for us, to pray for us. In order for this to happen, we have to be willing to open up, admit when we’re drowning and seek reinforcements. We need to be able to lean on others that will hold our hands up when we are just too weak and weary. I, for one, am going to work on that. So ladies {and gents…..}, swallow that pride and let others lift you up. After all, we are human and, contrary to the beliefs of a certain celebrity ‘rockstar,’ we are not all invincible and filled with ‘tiger blood.’ {Sorry, that was ugly but I couldn’t resist. In all seriousness, that man needs intense prayer, not another round of interviews.}

{Just for fun, I did Google ‘Type A personality’ and the results were a little startling. According to Wikipedia, ‘the theory describes a Type A individual as ambitious, aggressive, business-like, controlling, highly competitive, impatient, preoccupied with his or her status, time-conscious, and tightly-wound. People with Type A personalities are often high-achieving "workaholics" who multi-task, push themselves with deadlines, and hate both delays and ambivalence.’

Pfft. They say aggressive like it’s a bad thing. I also happen to think that multi-tasking is a very admirable trait and absolutely vital in a house of anarchy.

Golly Pete, I expected to identify with a few of the qualities but not all of them……}

Voice Of Truth

2011-03-02T18:08:00.000-08:00

If we were to meet on the street for the first time, would you consider me a confident, poised individual? I’m struggling with this lately and I don’t know why. OK, ‘lately’ isn’t an accurate statement – I’ve always had problems with self-confidence, for as long as I can remember. When I tell my friends this, they are surprised by my confession but it’s 100% true. I guess I just put on a good front because, inside, I find myself second guessing everything. Honestly, I have these insecurity issues in every area of my life. I also know that this is Satan trying to tear me down so it's time to {wo}MAN up and fight back.

Here are some examples. Some I’m a little embarrassed to admit but there's very little I won't share {I think my testimony established that much} so why shouldn't I give you some reasons to laugh at me on this second day of March? The following are actual conversations that the voices in my head express on any given day.

On Self-Image –

*Why won’t my hair cooperate? People probably think I just rolled out of the bed with this mess. And the hair color…..lawd, it's never going to be the same…..

*Acne at 30? Really? This is repulsive. I wonder if the bank teller is talking to me or the band of blackhead brothers on my nose today.

*Maybe I should’ve worn the boots instead of the pumps today. Of course I should have. And why did I even choose this shirt in the first place? I know better - this shade of red was not meant for this pale person.

On Parenting –

*Am I feeding them too much processed junk? Should I be worried that they may not get their daily recommended 50,000 mg of vitamin C? Are they supposed to have this much gas? Maybe they have Crohn's disease?

*Will they end up aggressive ninjas because we let them watch Kung Fu Panda and The Karate Kid? Am I causing permanent damage when I tell them that peeing in the tub will cause a worm to grow in their belly and result in a trip to the ER that ends with a large needle in their left buttocks? {I’m at my wits end with this one - it keeps happening and d3 insists on drinking since he hasn’t a clue. For all he knows, he’s sitting in a tub full of lemonade and it’s free refill Friday}.

On the Job –

* Did I give my boss what he was looking for on that project? Perhaps he was looking for more detailed analysis. He hasn’t emailed me back since I sent the file 3.5 minutes ago so it must be wrong.

*Will I ever be ready for a promotion? Would I be a good manager? Do I communicate effectively? I will probably retire in this position.

On Marriage –

*Do I really make my husband happy? Sometimes I can be so moody. He probably wishes he had married someone else. Maybe I should have made cube steaks last night instead of weinerwinks. He loves cube steaks.

*Will we still have something to talk about in 18 years when the house is empty? Will we always laugh this much? What if he finds it amusing to hide my dentures and Depends from me when we're old?

Now, some of these are funny albeit absurd but why am I even thinking this junk? Why do I let it consume my thoughts? I even did a bible study with some girls on this topic. It was a great book but clearly I had more issues than we had time to fix in the 8 week study. I even find myself telling others to not worry about situations, even shooting them Scripture references to Psalms and Philippians, all while internally agonizing over trivial details. I see a similar trait in d1, who has a tendency to worry. True, most of his worries revolve around what his next meal will consist of or what ‘fun thing’ we’re going to do for him {I really believe he thinks our sole purpose on this Earth is to entertain him!} but I am constantly telling him to ‘not worry about it’ and yet his mother is the Queen of Concern. Maybe it’s that control freak in me but that’s just a lame excuse for a lack of faith. And I'm not a fan of excuses so there it is. I am making a personal commitment to memorize three verses this week. Read them, recite them, pray them. Every time one of those outlandish thoughts creeps into my mind, I’m going to shout out Scripture. I might even break out some 'Voice of Truth' lyrics. If you run into me in the grocery store and I’m hollerin' out the Word, just smile and wave. And laugh, of course. At least you’ll know what I'm doing. I’m busy putting Satan in the ground, courtesy of 2 Corinthians.

Sunday Sillies

2011-02-27T17:03:00.000-08:00

Today D1 and I decided to begin a weekly bible study with the boys. Nothing elaborate, mind you, but every Sunday night after dinner and bath time, we are going to review the bible story/verse that they learned earlier that day at church and just give them the opportunity to ask questions and work on Scripture memorization and then end with family prayer. Though it went fairly well, we can't do anything in this house without adding a layer of laughter.

Before the conversation, picture this. Three boys in their jammies, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the carpet, full of giggles and gas.

D1: OK, boys. Who remembers their bible verse from church this morning?
d1: Can I have pancakes tomorrow?
D2: Right now, we're not talking about breakfast. You had two verses, one from Mark and one from Psalms. Can you tell me one of them?
d1: I know how to spell Psalms - P-S-A-L-M-S. The 'P' is silent.
D2: Good. Now what was the verse?
d2: OUCH! Dayne just bit my toe.
d3: {giggles}
D1: Dayne, go sit in time out for biting.
d3: Ooo mean! No!
D2: Now, let's start with the first one. It was from Mark 12:41 about the widow's offering. What did she give?
d1: She gave money.
d2: Yes and it was more than the rich people. It was all she had.
D1: Wow. That's right. Jesus asks us to give 1/10 back to Him. That's one penny out of ten. It's so little compared to what we've been blessed with.
d1: How exactly does it get up there? You know, to heaven?
d2: Did you hear that, Bubby? {giggles} Do you smell it?
D2: {shooting 'the look' to d2} Good question, Dagen. It doesn't, really. We give to the church so that our tithes and offerings can help others to learn about Jesus, like with mission trips.
d1: OK. Are we done? I want to go shoot Davis with the gun.

That's the condensed version but obviously their minds were a little all over the place. Oh well. We'll keep trying. Even if they are only able to memorize one a month, it's worth the effort. We're building that armor, one verse at a time.

As I type this, I am being treated to a skit, courtesy of D1 and the two older boys, a re-enactment of the Foghorn Leghorn scene in Space Jam. You would think it was their idea - I mean, they are the kids. Wrong. All planned and produced by their father. Their 32 year old father. The same father that initiated outdoor races today that ended with my toddler rolling down the hill and ultimately coming to a halt after his little wagon hit a neighbors car, as I watched the whole thing in horror. Good times.

As for the car - no dents, no ding, no declaration of guilt. It was a plastic wagon, after all. How much damage could it really have done?

I Will Rise

2011-02-23T17:00:00.001-08:00

I recently gave my testimony for the first time to my bible study girls. Though it was a huge relief to get it out of the way, I have a feeling it won’t be the last time I speak it aloud to a group and I’m slowly becoming okay with that. I have realized that I was given this life and these circumstances and it’s all to glorify God. One way or another. This is my story.

I was born in Kansas City to a single teenage mother. Though every birth is a miracle, I like to think I was an even bigger miracle, considering the numerous abortions my mother had prior to my conception at 17. My father wanted nothing to do with me - he was a married man and already had his own family. Six years later, she married and got pregnant with my brother, Adam. He left us before Adam was ever even born.

My mother uprooted us to Massachusetts when I was 7 years old. We moved from one motel room to the next until she met a guy and we moved in with him. We’ll call him S. Drugs and alcohol were an everyday occurrence and I believe this is where my mother started her downward spiral. We moved back to Missouri when I was 11 but things just got worse. S was verbally abusive and acted inappropriately in many ways. I slept with a baseball bat under my bed in fear and many times, asked Adam to sleep in the bed with me. I cried myself to sleep so many nights, wishing that someone, anyone would rescue me.

When I was 13, my mom came home and gave me her cashed paycheck to ‘pay the bills.’ I didn’t mind doing this – at least I knew the phone wouldn’t get cut off if I paid it and, at that age, that’s all I cared about. That night she went out with a girlfriend and got arrested for a DUI. Her friend woke me up in the middle of the night, told me to get the money and go bail her out. I called a cab and showed up with bail money. She wouldn’t even look at me. So much for the bills…..

Adam and I went back and forth, living with our grandma in between her jail sentences for DUI, possession, etc. The last time we lived with my mom, it ended very badly. I was 15 and waiting tables at a local diner for tips. I wasn’t spending my tips on pizza or new earrings, I was using it to buy Adam clothes and school supplies. After all, we were starting a new school and we knew she had no money to purchase the necessary items. One night, I awoke to find her rummaging under my bed, looking for my money. We had a blow up but she left my money alone. A couple of nights later, I was at work and called home to check in. Adam told me he had been there by himself all day…..he was NINE YEARS OLD. She never came home from wherever it was she spent her time {because it wasn’t a job}. I don’t know what made me do it but I found the number to her probation officer and I called and told the PO that I knew she had cocaine in the house and where to find it. Within an hour, she was arrested and taken to jail. Again. For whatever reason, there was no social worker intervention and so I made the decision to take Adam and live with my older boyfriend. In hindsight, it was a bad idea. A horrible one. But at the time, I’m not sure I had many options. I refused to be separated from Adam and my grandma was in no position to care for both of us. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

Adam and I lived with the boyfriend and his family for 2 + years. I have nothing but appreciation and gratitude for this family. Their house was extremely small but they allowed us to stay there. We all struggled but because of their generosity, Adam and I were able to stay together. It just pains me, though, that I was that young and sharing a bed with my boyfriend. It just wasn’t right. I felt so ashamed of myself but I was not sure how to break free. At that age, I should have been going on dates to the drive-in, not shacking up and providing a life for a 10 year old.

My senior year, I decided it was time to move out. It was not an amicable split, it ended very badly but it was the right thing to do. We moved in temporarily with friends until I graduated in May. Somehow, after 14 schools in 13 years, I was done. Right about the same time, my mom moved from stints in county jail to years in state prison.

After high school, Adam and I got our own apartment and I chose community college and two jobs. As much as I wanted to go to university and begin my degree, I couldn’t afford to work a part-time job and still provide for us. We did receive assistance from the state and some help from an uncle in Maryland but it still wasn’t enough. We kept in touch with my mom while in prison, even visited a few times. This is right about the time I met D1. Monumental moment in my life for sure!

After about two years, my mom had secured a work release job and was scheduled to be discharged. She wanted Adam to come live with her and start over again with him, and that would allow me to go to school full-time. Needless to say, it didn’t work out. She was back to her old ways quickly and Adam returned back. He remained living with friends of ours while he finished out high school and I finished college.

In June 2003, D1 and I were married. It was an amazing day! Though I had very little family present, I was marrying my best friend, the man that was meant for me. More than anything, what stuck out from that day was our ride in the limousine to the hotel after the reception. Out of the blue, D1 says to me, ‘I think we should pray.’ I was dumbfounded. After all, neither of us were raised in the church. At that moment, our lives were forever changing, we just had no idea how significantly.

A month or so later, we began attending a local church with some friends of ours. There we listened to an incredible pastor tell us that no matter what we’ve done in our lives, we were forgiven. That Jesus paid the price for our sins so that we didn’t have to spend eternity in hell. To someone with my past, that was colossal. In May 2004, D1 and I both accepted Christ as our Savior and were baptized together, just three days before d1 was born. It felt amazing to relinquish control and surrender.

Also in May 2004, I graduated with a BS in Accounting and Adam graduated from high school. We both made it! Praise the Lord!

Today I have three healthy boys, an incredible husband, a handsome 25-year-old brother, a job that I love, a house that I cherish and am surrounded by family and friends that love me. The life I have now is the life I only dreamed of just 15 years ago. I am blessed beyond words. I have a joyful heart, abundant faith and excited for eternity.

There are many reasons one might share a testimony but for me, I need you to know my past so that you can know who I am in the present. I’ll be honest. In my darkest days, I wondered if there was a God. Because, if there was a God, how could He have let this happen? Was I really that bad of a person to deserve this much pain? I know now that, though bad things do happen to good people, God is in the midst of it all. He’s ever present and never failing. He has given me this time on earth to make a difference in the lives of others, to show them the hope that we have in Jesus and what He’s brought me through and that’s just what I intend to do.

The Spiritual Lightbulb

2011-02-18T09:46:00.000-08:00

Just recently, something has clicked in this pea-sized brain of mine. We all hear people say, ‘Why won’t God send me a visible sign?’ or ‘I just wish God’s voice was real.’ To me, these are all very valid and normal longings. I, too, have desired that writing-in-the-sky, that piece of mail personally addressed from Jesus himself, saying, ‘Yes, Dawn, that’s the path I destined you to walk. Go in peace.’ However, to this day, I’ve yet to see such.

Now, please remember that I’m still a very immature Christian. It's true. I mean, I just gave my testimony for the first time this past week. P.S. – that was TOUGH. Maybe I’ll blog about that one day for anyone who wasn’t there and is interested. My point is that what I’ve discovered is something many probably already knew but for whatever reason, it’s really on my mind. This may be more for the simple-minded folk -> me.

After our stop at DunkinDonuts {weekly, not DAILY, and only with good behavior - don't judge, it works}, I’m driving to work this morning. As ‘Voice of Truth’ is cranked up {d2 has moved on to a new Casting Crowns song and the volume level is irrelevant because his singing is MUCH louder than what is coming from the speakers}, it occurs to me that God answers prayers. Clearly this is not the epiphany. I’m not that unformed. Obviously I know, much to our chagrin, that sometimes it’s a ‘yes,’ sometimes it’s a ‘no,’ and sometimes it’s a ‘not right now’ {or, in some cases a ‘are you CRAZY?’} What I just now realized is that, over time, many of my prayers have been answered but not because my circumstances have changed but because I have changed. Whoa.

Maybe I’ve known this deep inside but, for whatever reason, it’s hitting me hard right now, in this very moment. So much so that I scarfed down my lunch to have a few minutes to blog this at work while I still had it fresh. Yes, my prayer life is still not where I would like it to be, maybe even a little pathetic but that’s my fault. I know I need to make more time and not just give God the ‘leftovers’ but even in the small time I do spend in prayer, I’m now realizing that He has changed my thoughts, my desires, my urges. This has drastically changed who I am and it has NOTHING to do with my abilities. All Him.

How do I know this? Not so long ago, I would see a purse I liked and I would buy it. Just like that. I wouldn’t think about how our money could be better spent. I wouldn’t think about how far that cash could go for a homeless person or a single mom. I wouldn’t think about how I already had 47 purses at home. I would just buy it. Now if I see a purse and I want it, I wait. I wait until either the desire leaves me or the purse goes on sale. Either way, I’m learning patience and I know this is a God thing because I prayed for help with my impulsive tendencies not so long ago. I had struggled with it for years and I knew it wouldn’t just change overnight but, in hindsight, it kind of did and that’s not because of me. I’m not that strong. This is just one example in my life. Now if I can just get a double shot of that patience where my boys are concerned.....

Sure, it happens on occasion. Opportunities come up that we think are perfect and that it must be ‘meant’ for us. It must be a ‘sign.’ I’m not saying I don’t believe it. Heck, our whole story of moving to SC was pretty much a miracle in itself and all based on doors opening and closing in just the right time. But what I’m learning is that I need to spend more time in prayer and in asking God for His will to be done, to continue changing my thoughts and desires to what aligns with His plans. As a self-proclaimed control freak {hello? I am currently struggling with control of a date night itinerary with my hubs! I can’t even let that go!}, this is not easy but, in time, how awesome to know we are exactly where God wants us.

Prayer does not change God, but it changes him who prays. ~ Søren Kierkegaard

Prayer may not change things for you, but it for sure changes you for things. ~ Samuel M. Shoemaker

And for a little humor to end this Friday post ~

As long as there are tests, there will be prayer in schools. ~ Author Unknown

Bargain Buys

2011-02-16T17:25:00.000-08:00

In the last month, I've really had some great shopping trips, especially to CVS and Publix. I've even photographed a few of them.....

Paid $1.51 with $12.59 back in ECBs....

Paid $2.71 with $4 back in ECBs......

Paid $17.78 at Publix.

Now, I probably should have put this picture first because after the first two CVS trips, the total out-of-pocket seems so much higher but I got a lot of food for under $20 {and there was also a bottle of creamer that is not pictured}. After coupons, the frozen veggies, animal crackers and yogurt were absolutely FREE and I actually MADE $4.48 just by purchasing the Vivarin and Sominex. I've actually done the Sominex/Vivarin deal a few times and have a nice supply of the two if anyone needs any. I'm thinking that a nursing home might benefit from the Sominex but who uses Vivarin? All that comes to mind is truck drivers and, well, I know no truck drivers.

Maybe you're looking at this last picture and wondering why all the soup or why all the tomato sauce but everything here will probably be gone in just a few days. I can't keep up with the demand in this house. Just this morning, d1 ate two plates of biscuits & gravy along with grits and a smoothie. Oh, that's not all. He also purchased a CFA chicken biscuit at school in the car line. I will admit - I did make him use his Tooth Fairy money for this purchase. What? I provided him a good breakfast. He just eats all.the.time. I've got to draw the line somewhere.

Laughter, Love and Little Girls

2011-02-16T12:14:00.000-08:00

Last week was a very L-O-N-G week. I think we already established that much in the last post. Fortunately, this week is not running parallel so that in itself is great news. I've actually found some time recently to just laugh at these boys, d1 in particular. I enjoy writing of these funnies because none of them involved lying or sticky fingers. As one author put it {I can't remember which - Rao, Dobson, Tripp - who knows, I've read so many parenting books at this point and no seems to have my easy guide to raising kids without permanently damaging them}, 'find something to praise them.' This is me praising. Or maybe not so much praising but talking in a positive connotation. Yes, that's a little more accurate. Now, I'm not saying that I struggle ALL the time to find him doing something right. Academically, he rocks it out but it's just some of those 'other' skills that we're trying to fine tune right now.

Now on to the funnies. A couple of nights ago, I was hosting ladies bible study at our house. D1 took d2 to b-ball practice but d1 didn't have a great day at school so he stayed home. His punishment, besides no video games, no TV and no dessert {and believe me, that is the hardest for him to accept} was that he had to help me clean before the girls arrived. Ordinarily this really is a form of discipline for him. He's not a neat freak like his mother - more of the slob type like his father. However, for now, he doesn't view vacuuming as a bad thing so obviously I took full advantage of that. I asked him to specifically focus on the play room and he did awesome, moving all large toys out of the way and using the attachments along the baseboards. I was shocked at his thoroughness, although what reason did he have to rush? Quiet time with his books and bean bag chair? Not really his idea of a party. Anyway, here's where I have to laugh at the boy. As he was working, I ran upstairs for a minute. When I hear the vacuum go off, I asked him what was wrong. He told me he spilled a little water when moving the LittleTikes goal {base full of h20} but that he's cleaning it up and to not worry. Ordinarily this is a red flag but I was feeling glass-half-full. When I got back downstairs, he was on his hands and knees, cleaning the playroom carpet. What a resourceful lad, right? Well sure, I was proud that he didn't just throw a towel over it like I probably did at 6. Instead, I came in to find him using my sink brush, some Bath&BodyWorks handsoap and a wet rag. All fine and great except the brush still had some baked beans stuck to the bristles, the soap was green {note: carpet is beige} and the rag was dirty. So, because he saw a line of water from the goal that he thought was a stain on the carpet {although you readers know that since it was water, it dries CLEAR}, he proceeded to make a mess out of a clean carpet. I couldn't freak out. He was only trying to clean up what he thought was a mess. God love him. I just laughed and started on the real cleaning. A few minutes later, when he had finished all his vacuuming, he said, 'Gosh, Mommy. You're really lucky I couldn't stop talking at school today and had to flip to orange. Who would have helped you clean this house if I would have gone with Daddy?' True statement. Thanks, I guess.

Speaking of orange and school, it did sound like he had an interesting day. When we were eating dinner, he said, 'I had to put tape over my mouth today at school.' Of course my first reaction was, 'WHAT? WHO? EXCUSE ME?' I was just shocked because 1) we LOVE his teacher and it didn't sound like her and 2) you just hear such things in school these days. Don't get me wrong - I would be open to hearing about corporal punishment being reinstated in the school system with some strict guidelines and oversight but that's another story for another day. So as the story unfolds, he tells me that Mrs. H told him that if he thought it would help him to stop talking so that he didn't have to flip another color, he could put tape on his mouth. So he did. According to d1, it didn't work. He could still talk. Well, duh, kid. I also envisioned his friends giggling at him while he's got his mouth all taped shut so I'm not surprised that it was not helpful. In fact, my guess is that it only made things worse.

Although these stories made me laugh this week, there were two that did not. Yesterday he came home and told D1 that he had a girlfriend and that she likes to hold his hand. WHAT.THE.HECK. He is 6, not 16. I am not trying to hear about some little girl wanting to hold MY baby's hand. I just laughed it off and told him that I am all the woman he needs for a very, VERY long time. And then this morning it got worse. I was dropping him off in the car line and, as he's gathering his lunch box and backpack, I turned to him and said, 'Bye, buddy. Have a good day. Give me a kiss.' This is our routine. This is normal. As he was turning to kiss me, some little blonde-haired girl waved at him and that was that. He said, 'No kisses, Mommy.' I was stunned. I realize that I shouldn't be. I realize that this day was eventually bound to come. However, I also realize that this is absolutely, positively heartbreaking. I've always known he's Mr. Independent and that's not necessarily a bad thing but right now, in this moment, it just stinks. Period. I mean, does Little Miss Sunshine who wants to hold his hand also make his sandwiches extra meat, no cheese? What about the notes for his lunch box? Maybe that's a little extreme but darn it, I'm not ready for this and I shouldn't have to share my boys yet. I know I better get a grip on this so that I don't turn into that mother-in-law when he does one day marry at the ripe old age of 40. I've got time. And I'm thinking the betrothing ritual needs to make a comeback - we're surrounded by some great prospects.....

Darnell Family Photos

2011-02-15T11:14:00.000-08:00

In my last post, I referenced our shoot and the fact that it could, quite possibly, end up a big, fat FAIL but I was wrong, thank goodness. As it turns out, Lena can work some magic with her camera, even amidst such madness. Here are some of my favs:

Time Traveling

2011-02-09T17:43:00.000-08:00

It's 8:43 on a Wednesday night and I'm just now finding the first opportunity to sit down and take a breath. Well, that's not completely accurate, either. For several reasons, I am not breathing well at all these last few days. I think it's mild panic/anxiety, it's been going on for the last five days and I am confident that it is associated with recent events. Let's work backwards, starting with today.

Wednesday - Slept in until 6am, got up, cooked the usual Wednesday breakfast. This week I took requests and obliged the little people with monkey bread. Packed everyone up, dropped d1 off at school, drove in to the office, walked d2 and d3 to their classes, got back to my desk and logged in. As I was taking my last sip of Almond Joy-flavored coffee, I tasted something in my mouth. I pulled it out and studied it. Gosh, it looked a lot like a little people booger. Of course they are different than adults - they're smaller. Obviously. Right then it occurred to me that I had asked d1 to hold my coffee cup when I was getting in the car. No, I don't think he....ok, yes, I do. Beyond that, the work day was fairly normal, really. Things changed, though, when I picked d2 and d3 up from preschool and noticed that d3 is not acting himself. Great. Wonder what sort of nasty parasite he's ingested now. Although he's had a cough for over a month, this is different. As we walked to the car {and since d3 is not battling me to walk alone, I am certain he truly is sick}, I got a text from D1 that d1 had another bad day at school. Lovely. I got home, walked in the door, kicked my shoes off, ran upstairs to talk to d1, called MinuteClinic, gave d3 some Motrin, put shoes back on, took d3 to doc-in-a-box, listened to him verbally assalt the nurse practitioner as she is examining him {'You MEAN!}, received the otitis media diagnosis, filled the script while he loudly filled his diaper in the cough and cold aisle, walked back in the door, gave d3 a bath while listening to D1 drain the other tub and start over with their bath because, yet again, d2 peed in the tub, put all boys to bed and got ready to relax except....oh, wait for it. A couple of weeks ago, I must have been delirious or feeling invincible, or both, and signed up for cupcakes AND, per his request, agreed to make d2's valentines by way of lollicakes. Two dozen of each, to be exact, and tomorrow's the big party. Of course it is. Obviously this wouldn't have been an issue had we not had the last-minute sick visit thrown in the pile but c'mon, man! The cupcakes aren't that hard as they were certainly not elaborate but these lollicakes....geez Louise, people. I'm trying really hard to find times where I can answer 'yes' when the boys ask me to make these types of items because I know it's important to them but next year, if I even utter the words 'homemade' and 'valentine' in the same sentence, feel free to punch me in the face. Seriously. From here on out, it's store bought and tattoo valentines all the way. I'll find other ways to say 'yes.'

Rewinding to the weekend --

Sunday we had our normal routine of church and lunch and then had a special treat of our family photo shoot with Lena Poulos. We won this free shoot in a contest with our 'classy' Christmas card picture so since it was a beautiful spring-like day in February, we headed to a local park for some outdoor shots. Oh. My. Gosh. I can't say it was a total disaster because I haven't seen the pictures yet but I can only hope that she was able to snap a few that she can work with in between d2's sneezes that resulted in massive snot rockets to the near misses of the boys falling into the fountain. And then there was the non-stop, never-ending fight over the ball that Lena brought as a prop. She was just trying to help the situation. She just didn't realize that I birthed the Hammer Brothers. I wanted to take a knife to that ball after 10 minutes because all they did was fight over it. Really? You couldn't care less about the 47 balls that you have at home so why now? Really? I just wanted thirty minutes, an hour at the most, of cooperation to which I got maybe 3 or 4 minutes. d3 wanted absolutely, positively nothing to do with looking at the camera so if she got a good family shot and he's not in it, so be it. And one day I'll tell him why. Or I suppose I just did.

Backing up further to Saturday -- after the normal morning full of basketball, we made some stops at the grocery store and another local store. As we came out of the last store, I noticed chocolate all over d1's face. I was confused because I didn't remember us giving him anything. It's because we didn't - he TOOK a chocolate coin from the second store. And by took, I mean he stole. There, I said it. My 6-year-old is a clepto. Yes, I was ticked but the fact that he had chocolate all over his face did make me laugh, temporarily anyway. I mean, he can't even steal without making a mess. So, of course, we sent him back in to pay for his item but not before he realized that he broke the law and he might go to jail. Though we knew the truth, we didn't argue. He needed to worry. And he howled, 'I DON'T WANT TO GO TO JAIL.' Thankfully, the lady was very kind, he paid for it and apologized. As we drove home, we talked to him about how very wrong it is and explained that there will be consequences for his actions. When we got home, D1 took him upstairs, talked to him further, and told him to remove his coat so that he could take care of his spankings. d1 said, 'No thank you, I'll leave it on.' After going back and forth a few times, it occurs to D1 that he is hiding something. That something was a package of chocolate donuts from BiLo. Unbe-flippin-lievable. And so the shoes went back on, the coat went back on and D1 took d1 back to BiLo to return the stolen merchandise. Once again, d1 bawled, prayed and pleaded, 'God, PLEASE don't let them take me to jail! PLEASE!' Because I wasn't really sure how to handle this problem, I called BiLo and talked to their staff, explained what happened and actually asked for a manager to put the fear of the Lord into my child when he came in to return the donuts and that's exactly what she did. {Side note: D1 didn't know I called so imagine his surprise when this manager layed into d1....} When they returned home, he ate lunch {'No, you may not have another corn dog. You don't get seconds in jail.'}, went to his room {where all he could do was read and sleep}, came out for dinner, and went back to his room for the night. Throughout the day, D1 and I would go up and spend a few minutes with him, sharing some scripture that addresses lying and stealing and praying with him. Some time last year, we purchased an awesome book called Parenting with Scripture and it has been a wonderful tool. In this last week alone, we have referred to it several times for guidance and am certain more times like these are in our future. Here's hoping we won't need the section on stealing again. Until now, I haven't told many about this. I guess I was embarrassed, though anyone I have told says how normal it is but that's not how I felt. My first thought was, 'What are we doing wrong? Where have we failed him?' It's true, I still struggle with those thoughts but I know that, ultimately, I need to hand over my worries to God. Do my part as his mother, set an example and use those teachable moments wisely but in the end, God has to transform his heart and I'm just here merely as a guide. No one EVER told me how hard this parenting thing really is but we are definitely getting a good taste of the challenges.

Any question on my anxiety issues right now? I didn't think so. Wouldn't a Xanax help me? Or a Valium? I've never had either one but I've heard good things....

Oh wait, I forgot something else about this morning. Post breakfast, pre-booger scene. Just before D1 left for school, I asked him to corral d1 and d2. They were, at that particular moment, fighting over who has the bigger weenie. Or rather, whose was NOT the smallest. I made D1 get them under control and when I was in the kitchen, I heard, 'No more weenie talk. They are both big enough.' You're jealous of me right now, aren't you? I know. It's okay. I'm a lucky girl.

Whew!

2011-02-02T18:13:00.001-08:00

We survived basketball season. Hallelujah! Monday night was D1's last game so as I was driving home yesterday afternoon, I honestly felt a weight had been lifted. A week ago, I had a million thoughts rolling through my mind. Who's getting d1 from afterschool? Will there be enough time to feed the boys dinner before practice? Will the milk still be on the counter from breakfast? Did the maid drop by today and fold my laundry piles? {Oh wait, that's right. I'm the maid. Dang it.} Instead, this car ride I was free of the what-who-where thoughts and just enjoying the ride home. When we walked in, my gorgeous husband was standing in the kitchen, cooking up some weinerwinks {his personal specialty} and finishing up a load of dishes. It was such a beautiful sight. I promise to try and not take him for granted.

As for little people sports, we're winding down the basketball season and jumping right into spring sports. d1 will be playing coach pitch baseball again {and guess who's coaching?} while d2 is going to try out his skills on the soccer field. I would like to think that this year will be easier than last with the squirmy d3 but I'm not getting my hopes up, especially when the kid is almost faster than me. Okay, he pretty much already is. I mean, I know I'm getting old and not as quick as I might have been 10 years ago but this child has some crazy speed. I'm not sure how, given the pot belly he's been sporting for awhile, but I turn away for a second and he's G.O.N.E.

Nevermind his speed, how about this 2-year-old attitude he's got going on? What is that all about? The boy has taken on some dictator role and I'm not real fond of it. He points that finger at me and tells me, 'NO NO!' or '(s)TOP!' His latest meltdowns come when I try to put a coat/jacket on him. I know, what a travesty. How dare I think I should keep him warm. And for whatever reason, he seems to want to face off most in the hallway of his preschool. I'm not sure if he has some territorial issues or he thinks maybe his teacher 'got his back' but it gets ugly. Our most recent showdown after work had me chasing his chunky little self down the hallway in my new {$6.24} heels from Target. These new aforementioned heels are a tid bit slippery and I nearly lost my balance but grabbed a table before completely wiping out. He just rolled around on the floor while I worked to zip the coat, as parents just stepped over and around us. Doctors, nurses, a wide variety of spectators. Ah, yes. Memories. The ones I hope to repress one day in therapy.

A Little Humor On This Wednesday

2011-02-02T06:04:00.000-08:00

Thank you, d3, for the late night concert. One thing I am sure of is that you are not a quitter. One day I will appreciate that characteristic. I will be proud of you when you persevere in life and refuse to give up. Today is not that day.

Keep in mind that there will come a time where you will be taking care of me. Even if the memory goes in my old age, I'll always have this blog to remind me......

Praise You In This Storm

2011-01-31T09:19:00.000-08:00

Some of you have already seen this on FB but I wanted it on my blog, too. You know, in case Mr. Zuckerberg decides he doesn't like being the youngest bazillionaire and does away with our treasured networking site. It could happen. He's a very smart cookie - or so the movie portrays him that way, among other things. It's also backed up on my phone but I'm not great with keeping that in one piece so I'm taking precautions.

Quick note: after I recorded him singing, his first question was, 'Are you going to put me on Facebook?'

Ouch.

This is his favorite song of late and he asks me to play it over and over and over and over in the car. Sometimes I'd like to change it up but him listening to this song seems to initiate some great discussions between us so I'm okay with the repetition. Every now and then, I'll even catch a hand going up in the rear view mirror and I know it's him following the song - raising his hand and praising the God who gives and takes away.

Moments like these are absolutely priceless.

To hear d2's Claim to Fame, go here.

Big Dave

2011-01-23T06:00:00.000-08:00

Going through some pictures I've finally uploaded to my laptop, I found one of sweet d2. Though I have no recollection of snapping the shot, I absolutely love it. It just really captures him. And looking back through my blog, it occurs to me that I don't have many posts that are just about him. Well, with the exception of the multiple ER visits we had that were nearly back-to-back on the same eye. Otherwise, he stays under the radar where news is concerned. I would like to attribute that to the fact that he is so laid back and just an all-around easy kid and, well, most of my rants are about my 'challenging' children. An excuse, yes, but truth nonetheless. I also find this to be a good time to reflect on my little middle guy, given the fact that I registered him for kindergarten this past week. Bitter sweet moment, indeed, and more to come in the next few months.

*d2 was my smallest baby at 7lb 6oz. He now weighs 35lbs and it appears that he will remain with his father's slender, Gumby-like figure and likely with a wicked metabolism to go with it. Who wouldn't love to have that? Eat whatever you want and gain NOTHING. Way better than my pudgy frame that the other two have inherited.....

*d2 loves his daddy. Loves everything about him. And who wouldn't? He does have the coolest dad EVER. He just can't wait to tell him that extra special detail about his day when we get home, he loves being body slammed as we walk in the door and he will lay awake in his bed 2 hours past his bedtime for his daddy to get home from a game, just to ask him if he won and kiss him goodnight. Am I jealous? Not a bit. That is their special relationship. And I wouldn't change a thing.

*d2's favorite toy, at the moment, is his ~~GameBoy~~ DS. Though a hand-me-down from d1 when Santa brought him a real DS, he is perfectly content. That's just how he is. If we're trying to decide as a family where to eat dinner, he doesn't care. When picking out a movie to watch, he's usually got an opinion but is willing to watch whatever d1 wants. That's how it is with most everything. Note: we don't always let d1 have the ultimate choice but sometimes it's just easier. Another excuse. He also has a love for his talking Woody doll. Woody sleeps with him in his TS3 bed tent {which, at the moment, has some funky odor coming from within and might have to vanish very soon} along with a hippo, a dinosaur and some little furry-looking rat. Not sure where the last 'thing' came from....

*d2 loves puzzles. What a breath of fresh air. A child that enjoys calm activities. I attribute that to the overconsumption of Dr. Pepper I drank while he was in the womb. Might seem like a reverse effect but I drank the most {of the three} and he is the calmest. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to come to that conclusion. And no, it has NOTHING to do with him being the smallest. I can't help it if he got his father's lanky genes.

*d2 loves to sing, particularly on the commute to work. He apparently has a special fondness for 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,' I guess, because he wants to sing it all year long. I'm surprisingly okay with it. Maybe it's because he has developed the cutest Southern twang. Or maybe it's because he still has a munchkin voice - very high pitch but super duper cute. Now, at 15, he might not think the high pitch thing is cool but right now, it's precious.

*d2 has one heck of a memory. He remembers every little detail from every bible story he learns at church. He can also tell you how many time outs each friend had at school as well as why they were in time out and what they were wearing that day. My very own RainMan. It's funny though, that when I ask him if he had time outs, he doesn't have nearly as many details on himself as his peers. Kinda weird.

Though he is laid back and enjoys calm activities, he is definitely still very much a little boy in his actions. He picks his nose and thinks it's fun to show his gold. He loves to get dirty and make holes in his pants {though I don't think he's going to love the patches I'm about to iron on}. And just last night he peed in the tub. The tub that he was sharing with his two brothers, one which still finds bath water to be the same as drinking water. No, we weren't happy but it's certainly not the first time and likely won't be the last.

He's our Laze. Our Lazy Daisy. No explanation for the names, other than that D1 comes up with these bizarre nicknames and I somehow end up joining along and shouting 'Lazy' and not even thinking about it. I'm sure once he has a Daisy as a classmate and realizes that they don't have a common anatomical feature, he might forbid us to ever call him that again but until then it shall remain.

And that's all I have time for now. I'm home from church today with baby and the never ending cough and, at the moment, he's using my table runner as a scarf and trying to hide puzzle pieces in his diaper. I know I should redirect but it's so peaceful right now. He's found something to keep his attention for more than 45 seconds and it doesn't involve food.

Score One for the Good Guys

2011-01-20T11:37:00.001-08:00

Twenty bucks. It's two matinee movie tickets and a super small Sprite. It's a used Wii game. Better yet, it's five happy meals. To a young child that has $20 of their own, they feel rich. Just ask them. They'll tell you.

Recently, d1 came home with a flyer for BackPack Buddies, a program within his school that provides weekly food care packages to families in need. They were asking for monetary donations and he said he wanted to give. I assumed that was his way of saying, 'Get the checkbook out, Mom, so I can do my part.' Imagine my surprise when he left the room and came back with a twenty-dollar bill from his piggy bank. Don't be misled - he's not some loaded 6-year-old with a fat stash. It was the last bill he had. I'll just be honest. I tried to talk him out of the large charitable donation. I offered to play banker and make change for his big bill so that he didn't have to give it all. He refused. Talk about a flood of emotions.

To some of you, this may seem unworthy of a post. To me, it's monumental. We've always known d1 had a big heart and, despite his rough exterior, is a very sensitive guy but giving was never a big strength of his, especially if it meant he had to sacrifice. Ask him to share a bite of ice cream? Not a chance. A toy? Dream on.

Maybe it was also because I felt like we were finally doing something right. Now, we know that children are naturally born with a selfish nature, some more than others. Clearly. We know that it's our job as their parents to mold them into Christ-like individuals so to see the fruits of our labor in such a selfless act was rewarding in so many ways. I feel it's the beginning of great things for my boys.

Am I bragging? Duh. Wouldn't you? If you will look back, I haven't always blogged about such positive steps in our parenting walk. It's often been a struggle to have the glass-half-full perspective when you are battling sleep deprivation and icky toilet water butt (thanks, J). This parenting thing is hard work so when we can claim a victory and kick Satan in the face, you better believe we're all over it and praising God as we go....

Archiving Some Funnies

2011-01-18T16:44:00.000-08:00

Since he was a little guy, d1 has said he wants to be a farmer. A recent conversation of ours went like this -

Me - 'Do you still want to be a farmer when you grow up?'
d1 - 'Yep, I'm going to grow crops, drive tractors, milk cows and raise chickens. My chickens will lay eggs but not the kind that turn into chicks. The ones that we eat.'
Me - 'And then one day you'll get married and have lots of kids running around your farm.'
d1 - 'Well, I want a wife but no kids. They just get in the way and they'll stomp all over my plants.'

Okie dokie, then.

And then there's d2 and his career plans. Not long ago, we were driving down the road when we had a similar conversation. When I asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he started rattling off several occupations, one being a 'worker man.' And by that, he meant the guy on the side of the road in an orange jumpsuit. Maybe it was the clicker-picker-upper the 'worker' carried that sparked his interest in that job. Who knows. Bless his heart. One day I'll let him know that he long ago aspired to be a convict on work release.

Let's not forget little man, the rock star in the making. This week, we realized some of his babble isn't just babble. He's singing his first song. Twinkle, Twinkle? Huh uh. ABC's? Nope. He's way more advanced than that. He's got the chorus down to the Montgomery Gentry hit 'There's One In Every Crowd.' In the car, in the crib or in the kitchen, he screams, 'Hey y'all!' So what if it's not preschool appropriate. It's funny.

Probably better than d1's first song. A Kenny Chesney classic. The one where she thought his tractor was.....

OK, fine. I need to re-program the radio stations.

Blizzard of 2011

2011-01-10T17:23:00.001-08:00

For a few days, the weather team has been calling for a winter storm for the Southeast. No big deal to us. We're what some might call professionals when it comes to snowfall. We are from the Midwest. This is what we know. Note that I said know, not like. I'm speaking for myself, D1 loves it. Like I said, the threat of bad weather doesn't intimidate us but I can understand why others not accustomed to this stuff might want to grab a few things from the store. However, I can't seem to wrap my head around the 'milk and bread' thing. It's even on the radio. 'Winter storm headed to the Upstate, be sure to get your milk and bread before settling in for the snowy weather.' Really? Because if we don't have milk or bread, we....might.....starve? I guess those could be considered some generic essentials. For my family, it might look a little different. If I'm going to be stuck inside for a few days, I want to make sure I have cereal, diapers and creamer. Cereal can be eaten with or without milk, diapers are obvious and creamer is to keep Mommy happy. I am a much, much, MUCH happier person after my four cups of cream-with-a-little-coffee concoction and if I'm enclosed with this energetic bunch, I need all the help I can get. And as the saying goes - 'if Momma ain't happy, ain't no one happy.'

I have to say that I expected the forecasted 6-8 inches to end up being closer to a 1-2 inch dusting so imagine my surprise when I awoke at 6am {thanks, d3!} to at least 4 inches. Unfortunately, the boys did not get the memo that it was a snow day that allows for extra sleep and our day started pretty early. Breakfast was eaten and cleaned up before 8am and they were ready to hit the battle field. Although I didn't drive in to work, I still had some tasks to complete for my job so I set up shop on the dining room table and, while the older boys ventured out, d3 and I stayed in and watched through the windows.

d2 all bundled up

Please take note of D1's facial expression in this picture. Welcome to my life. He is such a goof. Never a dull moment. Ever. He wanted me to make sure I captured this look.

My Snow Angels

D1 was awesome in helping to entertain them while I worked. They did some Wii, played a couple of rounds of Sorry Sliders, made some Snow Cream, even tried a nap {FAIL} but these kids were just wound so tight and acting like escapees from Marshall Pickens. Just out of control. Somehow we ended the day with only one bloody lip, which is a miracle given how many screams I heard throughout the day. d3 has really mastered the art of those blood-curdling screams - when he doesn't get away with stealing a toy from one of his brothers, it sounds a lot like he's being stabbed. Holy smokes, he has a set of pipes.

Don't let these pictures fool you - they paused long enough to say 'cheese' and then it was back to business as usual.

This morning, I thought how nice it would be to have time to catch up on some housework. Yeah. That didn't happen. Oh, wait. Now that was a false statement. I did clean the toilets but only because I went to use the one in the boys' bathroom and thought to myself how a urinal in the men's room of a truck stop was probably cleaner. Why can't we get this figured out? Where is the disconnect? You pull down your whiteys, you sit, you pee, you flush. Something tells me that is not the sequence of events when one or both uses the toilet. Maybe I need a hidden camera in the towel rack to determine the perp. Something's gotta give. I can't stomach this much longer.

We ended our snow day with a movie night - Toy Story 3 starring Woody and Buzz. Super cute movie but since when are animated movies doubling as tearjerkers? I was almost to the subtle hyperventilation stage when Andy was giving his toys to Bonnie and then found Woody in the bottom. Seriously, friends, I had to turn my head away so that I didn't upset d1 and d2 with my crying. {d3 was rummaging in the pantry for something to eat, as usual, and I just didn't care anymore} I don't know if it was the whole 'kid going to college' saga that I will one day face but it was gut wrenching. I think the last time I cried like that on a movie was when Josh Hartnett died on 'Pearl Harbor.' Whew. I was a mess then, I was a mess tonight. Glad the boys weren't paying any attention to me. Oh wait, no worries. They rarely pay attention to me or at least when I'm speaking to them.

So who's excited for snow day #2? Uh huh. Yeah, me too.

Busy Little D's

2011-01-07T05:14:00.000-08:00

To my two little athletic d’s, Mommy loves you so
And because I’m solo when your daddy coaches
This you need to know

Running you around all week
Is not an easy task
Feeding you dinner in a rush each night
I often want to ask

Is it really worth it?
Do you really need this meal?
I think a small snack would suffice
I mean, c’mon, let’s be real

You complain about the veggies
You whine about the drink
You make such a wicked mess
And so I often think

That if your father coached
Winter, spring, summer and fall
You would likely play nothing
No baseball, no basketball, no football

Your practices are torture
Much thanks to baby boy
He has no concept of sitting
He cares nothing about a toy

He wants to run and run and run
In the hallway or on the court
He has no fear of being injured
Only wanting to play the sport

It’s not that I’m unprepared, oh no
I pack Goldfish, cookies and juice
He just eats it all so quickly
Only wanting to be free and break loose

Fortunately, for everyone
Daddy's season ends soon
It really couldn’t come quick enough
I think I'm turning a loon

Though you are young and don’t understand the challenges
One day, rest assured, you will
But, for now, have mercy on dear ole’ Mom
And go find me an energy pill……

Greater Things

2011-01-02T16:51:00.000-08:00

As many do at this time of year, I would like to reflect on 2010 and set some new aspirations for 2011. Last year, our big event was the selling and buying of houses. Now we are centrally located to everything and loving our new pad. Even though many said it couldn't be done, it happened. PRAISE THE LORD for God's perfect will! Other than that, we stayed busy with the everyday life of raising three young boys in a crazy, mixed-up world but one thing is for sure - we had many laughs along the way. There's definitely no shortage of that in this family.

Looking back at last year's list, I'm feeling okay about it. Even if statistically I only managed to tackle 42.86% {or 3/5} of my goals, I'm content because they were some that mattered most. Toning wasn't one of them, scrapbooking was a definite FAIL and the simplyfying of life? Um, sure. Just disregard every blog post prior to this. I'm pretty sure the majority of my ramblings in 2010 were, in some way, shape or form, related to the fact that our lives are very full. Full-time jobs, youth sports, coaching, bible studies, weddings, birthday parties....kind of wears me out just writing and re-living them but I have slowly come to accept that it is the way it is for awhile. It's life. And I'm good with it. Some days more than others.

Now for the ones I do feel succesful with --

*My knowledge in couponing grew and has truly paid off. I have lowered our monthly grocery bill by almost half. Just over a year ago, we spent roughly $450 a month on groceries, diapers, etc. Now, on average, we spend $250 at the most and the rest goes into savings. Cha-CHING! Yes, it takes a little time. Yes, I often make trips to a few different stores but if I save $200 a month, it's totally worth the effort. It's amazing how much we can actually get FREE - toothpaste, shampoo, oatmeal, pasta....and it varies all the time, which keeps it interesting. I'm not one of those crazy couponing freaks that stockpiles 47 boxes of cereal in my pantry {just 12} but I do like to take advantage of a good sale paired with coupons. It has become a cheap thrill, literally.

*Next on the list of sucesses was the time I spent studying scripture. Though I'm no bible scholar - obviously not if I still find myself flipping to the Old Testament for Revelation - I definitely feel my knowledge is increasing when one of the boys asks me a question and I can confidently answer them. That's not to say that d2 doesn't have to correct me every now and then but I just chalk that up to the kid having a photographic memory. I'm proud, of course, but sometimes it's embarrassing how the kid knows the smallest details to a parable. Way to go, SS teachers! And though I still don't spend as much time as I should every day {which will roll into my new list}, it did increase last year from prior years and I think I'm making progress. Inch by inch, right?

*And finally, time with my boys. Ah yes, and not just time but 'quality' moments. I really tried to be intentional with this one because, honestly, it's not as easy as it sounds. When they are all screaming, spitting or pooping in the tub, it's hard to smile and 'let it be.' It's hard to not send them in the play room while I spend an hour scrubbing the carpet from a taco sauce mishap. Well, this one I DID take the time to clean up but I did give d3 his own towel and he pretended to help. And I did communicate with him during our time together. We did talk. I said things like, 'This is NOT okay. Our plate is NOT a frisbee. Mommy is VERY sad.' And he said things like, 'Mie mie maul' in a very oriental-sounding way. For the record, this is his new phrase and I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what he's saying but he definitely knows because he says it all.the.time. And this time we spent cleaning is perfectly fine because we spent it together. Don't judge. It counts. What I did work on was not so much talking but listening to them, letting them help me make dinner or do laundry, and just bonding with them in whatever way they would allow. I know that if I don't make the time for them now, they likely will not make the time for me when they are older. Here's to my future full of conversations on flatulence, fast balls and foxy girls. Awesome.

So how do I envision my 2011? I hadn't really thought about it much until Pastor Paul brought it up in Sunday's message. He talked about priority, specifically regarding our time, our resources and our relationships and it occurred to me that this was it. This is the area of my life that I need to focus on. Here's how I plan to do it --

1) Time - Right now I feel like I am stretched thin and though it's definitely true, I also know that I have free time that I could be spending in the Word and not on We TV, following the Bruce family as they dig out of debt on 'Downsized.' I need to push myself, discipline myself and surround myself with the armor of God. I also plan to get back to bible study as soon as basketball ends {28 days and counting} and I know the ladies will hold me accountable.

2) Resources - I've noticed how it's always an interesting topic when tithes and offerings are discussed in the church but it's IN THE BIBLE. We give because we are given. Our family firmly believes that if you take care of God's business, He will take care of yours. When we were first married and new believers, I didn't understand how in the world we could carve out 10% of our earnings to give back to the church. I mean, that's A LOT. I will tell you that when we first started, I was petrified. We were newlyweds, I was in grad school and we had a baby on the way. How on earth would we make this work? Sure, Jesus performed miracles but that was then and this was now. It's all about loaves and fishes, people. I recall a month where we were running very short but we still gave our tithes. We had faith that the money would come from somewhere. And then the craziest thing happened. I received a check in the mail from my part-time job from TWO YEARS EARLIER. A check that I apparently had never picked up. Seriously? I don't just forget pay checks, especially when I was a struggling college student living on beans and weenies but I clearly didn't question the random check. I knew it wasn't a coincidence. From then on, it was clear who was in control. For this year, I aspire for our family to continue in our giving and increase it over last year. I don't think this just applies to monetary giving, either. I think this goes hand in hand with our homeless ministry. We have helpers coming out of the woodwork and donations from here, there and everywhere. It's amazing the resources we are finding where this is concerned. Give in your offerings but also give of yourself to those in need. I wholeheartedly believe in it.

3) Relationships - Besides the obvious within my own little family of five, I want to reach out and build relationships around me. I have such a great group of friends that encourage, uplift, and inspire me and I not only want to grow those relationships but want to be those things to others. I feel like my life, from the day I was born, has been anything but normal but I know that it all happened for a reason and, in time, I know it will be revealed. Heck, maybe it is now. Hard to say.

There it is. My goals for 2011. A little different from 2010, maybe a little deeper. Deep is good. Keeps me honest and on my toes. I feel that this year is going to be a great one, a year full of big things. Amazing things.

What changes are you making in 2011? Do it BIG. Make it COUNT.

It's Not Child Labor If They Love It

2011-01-02T15:47:00.000-08:00

This is for you, Laura......proof that camo CAN be cute. It's also to show that it's never too early to instill a work ethic in a child. Especially when he so thorougly enjoys it....

P.S. This was moments before D1 shredded our U-Verse cord by running the Rainbow over it. A cord that we later learned cost $75 to replace. Once I pointed out how the replacement cost was EXACTLY the same as his monthly allowance, he got some electrical tape, needle nose pliers and went to work. Twenty minutes later, we were back in business. My very own MacGuyver......

Darnell's Top Ten

2010-12-27T05:00:00.000-08:00

Top Ten Favorites of Christmas 2010:

10. White Christmas – Yes, it’s #10 and lucky to even have made it on the list. It pretty much made the cut because the significance of snow falling, on Christmas, in South Carolina is huge. Apparently it was the first time in 47 years so I guess it deserves a spot, even if it’s dead last. If you were one of the many thrilled with this event, I’m happy for you. Really. I know it’s not something that happens every day so enjoy it. I just happen to have different memories. Memories of many a winter in the Midwest where we were immobolized with snow. NOT FUN. I couldn’t wait to get away from those harsh climates so obviously I'm not thrilled when they show up in the South. In fact, last year we were stuck in a blizzard in Missouri and coming home was no easy feat {as if it isn’t hard enough with good weather when you’re driving 14 hours with 3 small children}. Fortunately, my boys have a ‘big brother’ for a father, who couldn't hardly wait to get them outside yesterday, only to pound them with snowballs. No, I am quite content to watch from the kitchen window with my warm cup of coffee in one hand and a piece of pie in the other.

9. Gifts – Guess I should clarify. This means my gifts. The ones for me. I would say the ones given to me but that wouldn’t be completely accurate. I did purchase a new pair of shoes for myself just days before Christmas after a sweet friend convinced me I would love them and wear them all the time. I have to admit that she was right. Today is the first day I haven’t worn them in a week. They just go with everything. Six months ago, I hadn’t heard of Danskos. Now I wish I had every color in the rainbow. One day that darn money tree is going to find its way to Birchleaf Lane. I also received awesome gifts from my brother, in-laws and especially from my thoughtful husband. I sent him the link to this necklace months ago and totally forgot about it. Luckily he didn’t! I was so surprised! It’s one more thing I’ve worn daily since I’ve opened it.

8. Travel-Free – Beyond a 30 minute drive to Woodruff for Christmas dinner, we did no traveling this Christmas and it was wonderful. Less stress + quality time = happy little family. Sure beats having to plow through 4ft snowdrifts just to get out of the driveway and head home like last year {see above-not bitter}. We may be on to something with this no-travel thing. We had a nice, big Christmas Eve dinner, made reindeer food, left snacks, opened one present and went right down to sleep with the visions of sugar cookies. Cookies, plums, it's all relative.

7. Forever Friends – I’m not going to lie. I have the BEST group of friends. Old ones, new ones – I am so very, very blessed to have each of you in my life. Whether I got an email, a text, a Christmas card or a big, pink surprise, I just want to thank you all for being in my life and loving me and my family the way that you do. I’m a lucky girl for sure.

6. Homeless Friends – I've mentioned in previous posts that we help feed the homeless, particularly on the 4th Saturday of every month. It just so happened that the 4th Saturday of December was Christmas Day! There is no greater feeling in the world than serving those less fortunate with the family on Jesus' birthday. We served a hearty Christmas dinner and met many needs that day. Thanks to everyone who donated and/or served and helped make this possible. Though the volume of homeless friends was lower than usual, it was to be expected in the snowy conditions.

*Two newsworthy notes –

a) We had put our boys in the van to watch a movie, due to the cold temps and precipitation. All was fine, until the blessing of the meal. We were all joined in a circle, listening as the man prayed over the food, when we hear ‘HEEEEEEEEEEEEEY.’ Of course it was my child. Of course it was during the only silent time of the afternoon. Of course. d1 will tell you that he was just helping one of the other kids out – she had to use the bathroom and he felt it was his job to notify someone. I guess I should be glad that ‘HEY’ was all he shouted instead of ‘Hey, Alexa has to go #2!’ Speaking of potty…..

b) After we wrapped up the feeding and were getting ready to drive away to the family dinner, d1 tells us that he badly has to go. We are in the ghetto of Greenville, on Christmas Day, at 5:30. Our options are limited. We did what we had to do. We emptied out a water bottle and used it as a makeshift urinal. Somehow I drew the short stick and got to hold the bottle. Something went terribly wrong and the urinal ‘leaked.’ Merry Christmas to me. I tried to not freak out and, in hindsight, I’m not sure why I did but I did. I mean, it’s not like it hasn’t happened before. I have three boys. I've been showered many times during diaper duty and poop is a permanent fixture in our home. Poor kid - he just kept saying, 'Sorry, Mommy.' Guess I had just hoped to make it to dinner without stinking.....obviously a far fetched dream.

5. My brother – My baby brother{ok, so he is 24 years old} made the very long drive to spend Christmas with us and it was a wonderful visit. We had a few laughs with ‘Little Fockers,’ ate Japanese food, played some Monopoly and just hung out. The boys really enjoyed spending time with Adam, too! He even managed to add yet one more weapon to our household collection with a medieval-style gun. He says it was essential in capturing the dragon. Ok but guess what? These heathens have NO desire to capture a dragon. The dragon has played no part in their twisted fun. The dragon is likely buried somewhere in the play room rubble. Their only desire is to tag Momma D in the back of the head while I’m in the kitchen. I literally need eyes back there. That or a full body shield.

4. d3 – The littlest d-man seemed to really enjoy himself this Christmas. We had a hard time shopping for him this year – what do you get the kid whose brothers have everything? I can’t justify buying him something that we already have, especially when he would be totally content with a box of Teddy Grahams and a spatula. Needless to say, our gifts to him were minimal but others made up for it. Grandma S got him a Cozy Coupe and Grandpa D got him his own rocking horse, both of which he loved. We did buy him a few new books, my favorite being 'Everyone Poops.' I can't even say the title without giggling, which only means one of two things: a) I was destined to be on the all-boys team or b) My mind has been corrupted.

3. d2 – According to my little guy, ‘I want a Woody since I already have a Buzz.’ His words, not mine, to Santa. And Santa didn’t let him down. Unfortunately, we may have taken the boys to see Santa a little too early this year because d2’s requests slowly changed from Woody to a flashlight to a basketball goal to a DS. We had to explain that Santa doesn’t have ESP and that he can’t change his mind after the fact. He seemed to be okay with that. Note to self: Don’t visit Santa in October. Note to retailers: Don’t hire Santa in October. d2’s other favorite gift? A Radio Flyer wheelbarrow. It’s cute and will be even cuter when D1 makes a spot for it in the already over-crowded garage and out of the kitchen. I don't find it cute that d2 wants to haul trash in his wheelbarrow when the trash is from the trash can. d2 was especially fond of the fact that Santa left his toy bag at our house.

2. d1 – This boy was crazy excited for Santa to come this year. With him, there were no changes in his toy request. It’s been the same all along. He wanted a Dairy Queen blizzard maker. Is anyone shocked here? Good thing ~~Mommy~~ Santa shopped Target one random day in November and nabbed the last one. Those things were hot commodities. He also scored a Nintendo DS and a few fun games. d1 was thrilled that Santa wrote a note back to them and left it by the cookies. The animated look that d1 and d2 had on their face was priceless....

I added this picture because this NEVER happens. They NEVER play together in harmony. EVER.

Last but certainly not least -

1. Savior’s birth – ‘Remember the Reason for the Season.’ Though many say it, I wonder how many actually ‘get’ it, how many truly understand why we celebrate CHRISTmas. There is nothing wrong with celebrating the giving of gifts, as long as one understands that we give gifts because a gift was given to us, in the form of a baby boy, born in a manger. He came to Earth for one reason – to die. Because He died, we live. Listen, my life is not perfect. I struggle in so many areas. Most days are far from fun. Just because I have a relationship with Jesus does not mean I will not have hard times. However, I am covered in God’s grace and I know that I am promised an eternal life with the One who knows me best, who created me. That is what keeps me going when I feel like giving up. That is the hope I have found in my Redeemer. There's power in that gift.

Merry Christmas from the Darnell's!

This was the picture that should have been on the Christmas card - except with us all wearing matching scarves and gazing at each other with love and adoration.

Ode to My Fellow Publix Shopper

2010-12-15T16:53:00.000-08:00

To the lady with whom I did not get the pleasure of formally meeting, I apologize. Oh wait. That's right. I did apologize. Several times, actually, as I was picking your boxes of Stove Top & Immodium up off of the floor. {Which, by the way, that was a lot of Immodium - are we planning on contracting the flu or.....?} It may have been hard to hear over the whines and shouts of 'Mom-EE' and 'I can't get the lid off of these peanuts...' but I really and truly am sorry that my buggy took yours out in the pharmacy department of Publix. I thought I could make that turn but these beastly carts just aren't made for that type of maneuvering and you happened to be ~~in the middle of the aisle~~ in my path and so I am very sorry. We've had plenty of grocery store mishaps but this was a first, if you can believe that. I didn't really think I had any of those left.

After I cleaned up your buggy and hurried off in shame, I bet I can guess what you were thinking. Probably what everyone else in the store was thinking. Why on earth would this loon bring her children {all clearly hungry and overstimulated} into a grocery store at dinner time? There couldn't possibly be anything worth that much stress to self and society. But then you would be mistaken. It's Wednesday, of course. Wednesday + Publix = PENNY ITEM. Unless the item is pet food or sardines, I'm not passing it up. And today's item happened to be a staple in our house - cereal. Or so that's what they started the day with. I soon found out that they ran low and decided to switch it to coffee. After some conversation, they agreed to let me swap Publix-brand frosted flakes for the coffee. So maybe it wasn't so much my petitioning. Maybe it was because d2 and d3 were in the process of opening a pack of Rolos and they wanted me to take control of the situation that they allowed the substitution. Either way, I was grateful. I decided not to mention the fact that I had already meal planned around the crushed cornflakes. I know to take the victories where you can. I also scored a few good deals on cookie dough, toothpaste, pasta and the aforementioned peanuts, thanks to my handy dandy coupons. For me, the trip was productive. Hope yours was as well.

Please find it in your heart to forgive us. We are just trying to get the most bang for our buck. Ok, when I say we , maybe I have a mouse in my pocket. These kids don't really grasp the idea of being frugal but, right now, we have one in diapers, two in year-round athletics and all three in ongoing growth spurts. I have no choice but to cut corners {literally, it appears} to stop the bleeding on our budget. As much as I do try and take care of such matters without said children, sometimes it's just not possible. I would promise that this won't happen again but the only way I could keep that promise is if you start doing all your grocery shopping at Wal-Mart. Otherwise, until next time, lady.....

The Inner Most Fears of a First Grade Lad

2010-12-13T16:57:00.000-08:00

Before I share the fears, I think you should know that today might have been one of the most challenging days I've had in a long time. I should have known the moment I got out of the car this morning and the wind nearly knocked me over. Seriously? This is SOUTH CAROLINA! One of the many reasons I desired to live in this region was to get away from the arctic blasts so why must you follow me? The rest of my day was pretty typical {except I was treated to lunch by a sweet friend and rockin' preschool minister - thanks R!}. However, the moment I changed roles from professional to parent at 4pm, it all seemed to go down hill. I left work with the little boys and headed to pick d1 up from afterschool. I went in to get him and the workers used their walkie talkies to call for him. I waited. And waited. And waited. Um, should we check the batteries on these things? Do you actually know where my kid is? I mean, what's the malfunction here? And while I waited, I kept an eye on the other two in the car. They were fine for the first minute or so. Then I witnessed d2 attempting to suffocate d3 with one of my reusable shopping bags and there was just not much I could do about it. Sure, I waved my arms and yelled 'STOP' but he couldn't hear me with the car windows up and the 60mph wind gusts. He just waved back. Thankfully, d1 finally appeared and we went on our merry little way but this small delay set us back on our schedule and, on Monday nights, we have no wiggle room as it is. Fortunately, I made dinner last night so that all we had to do was warm it up. And yet somehow we still ran out of time. I walked in the house at 5:00, heated up the chili cheese pie, packed some snacks, wiped a counter or two, pleaded with d2 to eat a few bites, cleaned up d3, gave in and scooped all of d2's dinner into d1's bowl for his seconds, grabbed a diaper and walked out of the house at 5:15 for practice. All without ever removing my coat or heels. I usually have at least a minute to change myself into jeans and tennies but not today. This proves to be a significant detail that I will never again overlook. That practice was the longest hour of my life. In heels. d3 was OVER the snacks after the first 15 minutes and wanted only to be on the court. In all my efforts to keep him out of harms way, I really can't believe I never fell. I'm not that graceful to begin with so adding a few inches on a waxed floor is really not a great combination for this clutz. I'm happy to report that we had no injuries....at least, not to this point.

On our drive home, I was ROLLING with laughter at our conversation....

d1: Tomorrow is our field trip to Oakleaf Village. I need to dress nice. It's for the old people. They like us to look clean.

Me: Maybe you shouldn't call them 'old people.' It might hurt their feelings.

d1: Yeah, I know. That's what Mrs. Hegwood said. She also told us that we can't ask why they live there. And if they're in a wheelchair, we can't ask about it. And if they don't have husbands, we can't ask why.

Me: It's probably best that you follow these rules.

d1: I know. I'll try. We made them stockings today and put candy in them. Except no Laffy Taffy. Did you know that if they eat Laffy Taffy, their teeth will fall out? Why won't it pull my loose tooth out?

Me: We'll talk about that later.

d1: But Mommy, Mrs. Hegwood also said we can't ask about their skin. {in a very serious tone and slight whisper} I'm afraid she means that the old people have moles and you know how I'm scared of moles. What if they try to touch me? I might cry.

What exactly does a mother say to that? Obviously I wanted to validate his feelings but I couldn't help but burst out in laughter. Poor kid. I can't even be his confidante because I'm too busy giggling. Not at him, just at his freakish fears, totally inherited from his father's side.

I got home, put the boys to bed and did some prep on our homeless feeding for tomorrow. So what if, in the process of cleaning up the kitchen, I smacked my head on my HARD granite counter and fell to the floor in writhing pain? No blood, just a small lump and one giant headache. Maybe it was payback for laughing at the boy.....

Oh, and one more thing. I know that I use a lot of humor on my blog and it's all in good fun. I do find it especially entertaining when D1 is the focal point but in all seriousness, I LOVE my life. Really and truly love it. I chose this life of being a career mom and I wouldn't change a thing. Even on chaotic days like these, I love what has been given to me! Just the other night, I went grocery shopping with d3 and as we were walking into Publix, an elderly lady {maybe that's the term d1 should go with tomorrow} stopped me and said, 'Did you know that this is the best time of your life?' Yes, it is.

Guilty

2010-12-10T17:51:00.001-08:00

Yes, I am absolutely a fan of bribing my child if it means he does what I ask. At this age, it works like a charm, especially if the reward is edible. I mean, just take a look at his belly.....

For the record, he does willingly eat his green vegetables. Don't blame him for responding to a treat. Would you comply if someone bribed you with broccoli? No, you wouldn't.

Classy Christmas Two-Thousand-And-Ten

2010-12-10T05:18:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week, we mailed off our Christmas cards. If you haven't received it yet, please don't hate me. I'm sure there's an explanation. It's always possible that the mail man lost it.....or I just plain forgot. The latter is definitely the most likely. {sigh}

This is our first year in a house with a real mantle and a real tree. When we discussed the photo for our cards, I envisioned three boys in coordinating sweater vests by the fire and ~~spilling~~ sipping hot cocoa. Clearly, D1 had a different idea. And so this is what marriage is all about. Choosing battles. After all, I did veto inflatable St. Nick. I had to give the poor guy something to live for. Even if that means that my boys' dignities were forever compromised.

Below are a few pictures that didn't quite measure up. Could it be the violent nature of the picture? We clearly went in the direction of comical instead of classy this year.

{The weapons in the pictures were presents from Grandma S, opened just minutes before the shoot for the sole purpose of the picture. They have since been confiscated and now sit on top of the refrigerator. Oh and P.S. - NERF swords and axes DO hurt and WILL leave bruises. I.HATE.THEM. No, really. I have serious anger issues with these toys.}

And below lies 'the one.'

Just be thankful I was able to keep D1 out of the picture. It wasn't easy. Good thing the battery died before he could find his cape and boots, buried somewhere in the closet.

Living in a Fantasy World

2010-12-07T18:59:00.000-08:00

For the last few days, the big question was 'will he or won't he?' Will D1 make the playoffs or won't he? Now don't be misled. When I say playoffs, I'm not referring to his basketball team {because everyone knows basketball doesn't have playoffs*}. I'm talking about fantasy football, people. This is not some monumental accomplishment, either. Okay, so maybe it is to him. Perhaps, in some way, he sees it as a reflection of his superior drafting and management skills. In any case, he lost this week. By one point. So now his season is officially over and when he told me, I really did try to find some kind words but nothing came out. I just couldn't muster any sympathetic words so opted with nothing at all because, in all honesty, I'm a tiny, smidgy-widgy bit happy. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy seeing my spouse experience victory and I know he enjoys the competition. Hey, I played FF with 'the guys' for a couple of years myself {yes, I drafted Brady AND Manning, back-to-back....some would say not the 'smartest' move but I'm a GIRL - the choice was quite easy} so I know it can be fun. However, I could still function after a loss. With D1, it's not quite the same. If Michael Vick throws an interception, you'd think the world was coming to an end. Or if the ball gets handed off in a run play instead of passing to one of his receivers {thus resulting in less points}, he acts like someone just stole his lunch money. I know it's a difficult concept to grasp but I don't think Ochocinco wakes up every Sunday morning and says to himself, 'I wonder how many fantasy points Dallas Darnell needs this week to beat his opponent. I'll be sure to do my best, just for him.' And I know this is where his competitive nature comes into play. This same nature is why we had to ban Madden '03 on PlayStation from this household FOREVER. There are plenty of stories behind that but saved for a later date. Some of you reading will need no explanation. You have fond memories. For now, I'll enjoy Sunday afternoons with my husband and try to console my love during his time of 'loss.' No pun intended. Oh, who are we kidding? I think I just snorted.

*ETA - I should add that there was not such a thing as playoffs in high school basketball but rather districts, semi-finals, finals, etc. And that was in Missouri. Maybe these Southern schools are different. Maybe this matters to no one but myself but I am what some might call a perfectionist and I would also hate for you to be misinformed, especially since it is imperative you know the correct terminology....

ShutterFly Special

2010-12-02T05:48:00.001-08:00

Naughty Or Nice Christmas Card

Shop Shutterfly for elegant custom Christmas photo cards.

View the entire collection of cards.

Shutterfly is offering a $25 gift certificate to bloggers who post a Shutterfly project so, though this is not likely our Christmas card {ok, the actual card is PERFECT but the picture will be different}, I am all about the free $25 as I expect my final order will be in need of some monetary assistance so there's the reason for this random picture. Go here if you want to do the same. Free is free, people!

Side note: all this computer programming terminology has my head spinning circles. The term 'embedding' gave me an anxious feeling and I had to Google what in the world it meant. I didn't realize how technically challenged I was until this very moment. Hmmph.