HoHoHo

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

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?

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

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

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....

"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

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....