this is happily ever after

Just another perfect day

2012-01-08T21:46:00.004-05:00

Living in a college town, we constantly come face to face with the timely incoming and outgoing of students. Each fall, as I drive through town, I can sense the excitement of the youngsters (and boy do they look young) as they proudly sport their UVA gear, coffee in hand. They lounge around on the green lawn and fill up spaces at the local Bodo's and I am excited for them, but there is always a part of me that envies them. They have a clean slate, the future in front, the world is their oyster. And I drive by in my uber cool minivan filled with babies and memories of my youth.

Come January, however, I drive by again, toasty in my minivan, with my babies, and I watch as these same students fight against the bitter cold, standing on the street waiting for the light to turn. The smiles wiped clean of their shivering faces and I know that the reality and stress of papers, exams and college life has set in, and I am so so happy I am so far past that stage in my life and I don't ever have to go back. I wouldn't trade places with them for anything.

I like being holed up in the winter. It's such a stark contrast to the summer where we are home for merely sleeping and eating. In the winter, we dance, we create, we imagine, we bring home mountains of books and read curled up on couches, kids piled on top of each other in a massive web of tangled arms and legs.

And then, we have days like these. Upper sixties, blue skies, green grass...ok, so it's astro turf (i think), and hours to spare.

The girls found a new cave....

which in turn decided to give Lulu a new 'do.

Jaxon discovered a new use for a football field....and I think, it's the BEST use...

and then I had a little soccer show down with team lightening....

and the one and only Lightening Man himself....

and guess what? Even super heros need water breaks.

Christmas Recap

2011-12-30T12:00:00.006-05:00

The sky showed off this morning with a brilliant pink and orange sunrise.
I can see my counter tops again, which for weeks were hidden under neat stacks of amazon boxes.
Our once majestic Christmas tree lies in a pathetic heap of needles in the back yard, and the Christmas decorations, save a few that refused to go, are packed up and back into the attic.
The kids are beginning to get sick of mom, and are longing for school to begin again. Winter is bringing on the full court press and there is nothing to look forward to except spring, and I know it's the annual post Christmas withdrawal. For weeks I am on this decor/lights/cocoa/stockings high and then it ends and we are left with beautiful memories and dipping temperatures, short days and long nights.

And no, he didn't get a transformer, nor she a bike, and those ideas are as far away as the North Pole, a Christmas miracle indeed.

Instead, his favorite toy is a worker bench, hers, a new sparkly dress and baby Lulu is just as content as ever with her "baba", her paci and her owl...which she can say with some certainty..."ow-ull".

Our Christmas week began with the kids school Christmas Show.

I love this show for so many reasons, and I look forward to it every year.

For starters, it is one of the few school programs that does not present a diluted generic holiday extravaganza in lieu of some good old fashioned Baby Jesus. I do not give a crap about what the Swahili people do at Christmas or what the Chinese people do...I'm sure it is far superior, but I don't care about it. I care about my kids singing "Jingle Bells" and "Away In A Manger". And my kids..well, check out video number one, and you'll see. They delivered.

The other thing I love about this show is that it is packed with enthusiastic parents. We sit, we stand, crowded together, sweating in the 80 degree indoor heat our bodies bring, and we all watch, breathless, smiles from ear to ear, eyes tear, watching our babies perform. They bang those sticks, they say their indecipherable verses, any Joe off the street would come in and think we were all hyped up on poison gases by the look of us all, but it's just one of those "you won't get it until you are a parent" things. The swelling in your heart the minute you see your baby, up on stage, doing something. It is pure magic.

And the magic continued on our own faux Christmas morning as we unwrapped in a matter of what seemed like minutes, all the packages that it took hours the night before to wrap.

It was 8am and she wanted to wear her "Chwismisss dwess"...I love my little fashionista!

Big empty boxes=the most Christmas fun.

Then it was a few days of Christmas craftiness-

paper lanterns...

hot chocolate mix...

and a giant gingerbread house...

and then it was off to Norfolk for our real Christmas...our old 'hood.

We visited a super cool park...

and enjoyed getting reacquainted with loved ones.

We returned to our old church for the Christmas Eve program which I was so excited for. All the children were invited to sit up front on the floor so they can have a more active roll in hearing the Christmas story. All was well and good until some of the children stood up to do their very well-rehearsed song and sign language bit, and I new there would be trouble. "Oh no, they are going to go up." I said to Rick. And sure enough, Penelope and Jaxon, without a second thought, went right up on stage as if they had planned it all along. For a look at their show, start at 20.

All I can say is that I am glad FPC is such a wonderful, loving, accepting and forgiving church. I hope we will not be banned from future Christmas Eve Services.

This is my last post of the year...another wonderful, amazing, fruitful year. And, like last year, I claim no resolutions, except for the ongoing quest for betterment, enrichment, learning, loving, improving, seeking, finding, learning, and always growing in patience and wisdom. So, good bye 2011, you came and went faster than I could have thought possible. Soon, you will be sitting neatly in a book, on my shelf for me to pull out again and again. I will have fond memories of you. You might have been the best year of my 31 so far.

Happy 2012!!

Warning....tangent ahead

2011-12-22T23:57:00.002-05:00

On Monday we went to Bethlehem.

There was this star in the east....and we followed....

we were greeted by cooing doves....

and a camel...

and as everyone sang "Angels we have heard on high"

we watched as Mary and Joseph made their way to a tiny little stable, because this guy was booked...

and the glory of the Lord shown 'round about us...

and we experienced a tiny bit of the wonder and the awe of that precious sacred night so long ago.

The story is one of such familiarity that it is hard to get past the "story" of it and really see it for what it is, which is the God of the universe hand picking the most lowly and humble beings; a woman, no, a young unwed girl, and he would ever so slowly lift her up and make her blessed among women; of all the human relationships he could have had, he started with the most sacred- the mother/child relationship. He chose to partake in humanity, not as a mighty king, or general, he chose to partake in humanity, first and foremost as an infant. Maybe, just maybe, the Most High wanted a mother, too. I think it says a lot about how he views mothers and motherhood, in world that says, it's not enough, it's not enough to care for children and wipe bottoms and faces, and spend hours with sick children, kiss booboos, fold laundry and the list goes on.... I believe through this story we can gather that Mary, as just a mom, was enough for God himself. I think it's beautiful.

And I love how it all started.

"...Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son....." Luke 1:30

It's not, you have found favor, here's a bonus check. Or, you have found favor, here's Ty and the gang to revamp your house. It's not even, you have found favor so you get to coast through the rest of your life.

No.

You have found favor, therefore your gift is a child. Gift equals child, child equals gift. Your gift is to become second to yourself, to spend the rest of your life giving, caring, loving, worrying, praying and pouring yourself into this other little person. Mary's gift, her reward for finding favor with God Almighty, was to become a mother.

I told you there would be a tangent....

Merry Christmas to all my readers, and go kiss your babies.

i heart christmas

2011-12-13T09:29:00.003-05:00

I've been trying to find ways to keep our Christmas Christ centered. So I found this book and luckily was able to get it in about three minutes with the nook version. Very cool.
Anyway, we haven't made it very far...usually when I try to have a nice quite Jesus centered reading with the children, it usually ends up with one of us throwing something across the room or someone running off through the hills...there is an occasional door slam and Penelope has been throwing around the "I hate you, Mom" a lot. More often than not, I feel like a Scrooge rather than a Linus. Add to that, we've had a continual flow of sickness (we are on pinkeye right now) and Lucy has decided that this week is the week she will start cutting molars.

But I still try.

So, back to the book. The first thing the author write about is the Advent Wreath; and despite my having gone to church for most of my life, I didn't really understand the symbolism. Quite frankly, I was always confused as to why the Advent wreath donned pink and purple candles when the Christmas color scheme is clearly red and green.

Quick summary:

1st purple candle= Prophecy/Hope
2nd purple candle= Bethlehem/Peace
pink candle= Shepherd/Joy
3rd purple candle=Angle/Love
White=Christ

So, we've been learning that, and it's actually working. I still am not sure about why the purple and pink color choices.

In effort to provide a visual I knew I had to actually get a wreath. Easier said than done....pink and purple candles are hard to come by this time of year. But I found some at the dollar store for .99, put them on a cake plate and added a $3 garland from Michael's left over spray painted foliage from Thanksgiving and voila!.....

go ahead, pin it, you know you want to.

*****

Last night I had the urge to go see some crazy lights. So the kids dressed in their jammies and we piled in the car for an after dark search for lights. That in itself was quite the adventure.

We might do that again just for kicks. Much to my dismay, there weren't very many crazy lights to be found. There were these:

and a few others, but the main attraction was by far, the moon, who followed us around begging to be photographed....only I still am working on how to get a perfect moon shot on the go, but the moon, magnificent magic moon, she delivered.

And besides the moon, I kind of think the best light show is right in our living room.

(P.S. There's a great giveaway at the BabyGuyGearGuide.com check it out. )

Christmas Time is Here and all the other little details

2011-12-06T10:34:00.007-05:00

The smell of fresh vomit is unmistakable, even during the middle of deep sleep at 3:30 in the morning. Penelope crawled into bed with me this morning, which doesn't happen often, but it's not particularly unusual, so I didn't think anything of it....that is until I smelled what I knew could only be puke.

"Penelope, did you throw up?"

"Only a little bit..." was her reply.

Some things in like, life getting shot and throwing up, are either/or situations...you can never be a little bit shot, and you can never skip the fact that you were sick because there was only a little bit of barf. Both are situations that require immediate attention, no matter what time of day or night. And these are the times that toughen me up as mom, and are in-my-face reminder of what motherhood is all about. A continual servant. It's weird, but after I wash puke out of curly little girl hair, brush little girl teeth, and tuck little girl in again, in a nice clean bed, there is something totally satisfying about that.....even if it is in the wee hours of the morning.

**********

So, Christmas is here. Hooray!! Christmas and the magic of it all, is a little bit why I love having kids. So they can experience the magic, in every form. What is Christmas, if it is not culturing belief in the unbelievable? Whether it's flying reindeer or birthing virgins, this is the time to believe in the magic and miracles of the season.

Christmas traditions are well under way.

The cards are done and out...

We got our tree.

A real one for the first time, and it stands glorious in our living room, despite the kids continually unscrewing it's bulbs. We had to get a new tree topper this year. As a kid, I hated our ugly burlap angel and as soon as I got our own tree, I bought an angel in a beautiful golden dress. Jaxon, however, had different plans. Last year, he hated our angel and insisted we needed a star because a star is what led the shepherds and wise men to the baby Jesus. So this year, we have a beautiful silver star.

And we spent the better part of Saturday sucking down candy during the Christmas Parade...excuse me, that would be the Holiday Parade. And by the way, anyone who is offended at the word Christmas...well, you would be in good company with this guy...

Yep, it was a definite "pick your battles" moment.

And this was Jaxon's very own Raphie moment. As Santa passed in all is glory, Jaxon yelled, "Hey! Hey!! Santa!!! I want a transformerthatgoesfromamotorcycletoajet!!! Please!!" With a white gloved finger, Santa pointed at Jaxon and says in a roaring voice, "A TRANSFORMER IT SHALL BEEEEEE!!! HOHOHO!!" Awesome. But at the same time, thanks a lot, now I have to go find this thing.

Penelope was a little more reserved and just looked in awe as though she knew she was in the presence of greatness. She smiled and waved and nodded that she was good. Santa passed and continued down the mall, and then she went into full panic mode because it dawned on her that her moment to speak to Santa was over. So we high tailed it all the way down the block (good thing Mommy can still run, with two kids and a stroller no less) and waved down Santa, through a sea of kids (good thing Mommy can still box out, too) so Penelope could say her piece.

"I would like a new bike, please!!" and again...

"A NEW BIKE IT SHALL BEEEEE!!!!" HO HO HO!!" Yikes, new bike? Santa really better come through because I'm pretty sure there is no new bike in the attic.

Whatever Santa brings, or doesn't bring, it is so small in comparison to what we have every single day. Our cupboards are full, our bellies are full, our house is warm, and we are all healthy....for the most part. Merry Christmas!!

Rivalry

2011-11-08T19:37:00.008-05:00

Unbeknownst to them, VA and MI have been waging a fierce rivalry for quite some time now. And no, I'm not talking football here. Michigan pretty much takes the cake and then some (Go Blue!) and that's about all I know about football. No, the rivalry I'm speaking of goes something like this: Dad will call on a Saturday morning to tell me that he's enjoying coffee on the porch in 73 degree weather, and that there's an empty chair right beside him that's just my size, and there's a rocking horse in Nana's living room begging to be ridden by the LuBird. (Good run, really...) I'll shoot back that it's no matter, I'm enjoying watching my kids play soccer in fields of green grass while the golden sun warms their faces and we throw our heads back in laughter at the way they run and kick all while gazing at the backdrop of the majestic blue ridge mountains.....and oh, by the way, after wards we are going to feast on freshly made organic donuts and then go apple picking in the Garden of Eden. (And now VA is up one....)

What Dad doesn't know is that while I'm telling him all this, Penelope is running in the opposite direction as her teammates, the field is soaking wet, and Jaxon can't stop making loud comments about the little boy with one arm, who at one point, hit him with his stump. No kidding.

And last week when Mom and Dad were visiting, Virginia graced us with the first snowfall and Michigan was leading in the game. They couldn't wait to keep reminding me that while it was snowing in Virginia, Michigan was still fall temperature perfection. The great thing about Virginia, is that even when the temps drop and at midnight you can go outside and perhaps catch a glimpse of the first snow fall, the next day it's jacket weather and you are not stuck (usually) digging your car out of ten inches of snow. It's literally the best of both worlds.....in fact my town was used by Hollywood to depict how God intended creation to be. (Evan Almighty) Take that, Michigan.

And right now I'm loving fall. Our schedule consists of 1)morning and 2) park time from right after lunch until right before dinner. Kids play, mothers simultaneously carry on conversations and keep tabs on kids. Mother's heads are in a constant state of look left, right, center, left right center, eyes dart every so often making sure 1, 2, 3, yes all kids are somewhere. We here the familiar sound of the UPS man and like a well rehearsed choreographed dance, we jump up like hens and corral little unknowing bodies away from the side walks that line the street, all the while, keeping the conversation going, and we come back, never skipping a beat. It's this beautiful dance of the omnipresent mother, we must be, always, everywhere.

Yesterday, I discovered something new. Slide pictures. The funniest thing ever.

Halloween.

Baby is gone. She's is a full fledged tot.

The proof was in the trick-or-treating. She would run from house to house, little neck strained to hold her little head out in front of her, arms out to the side, this is her running stance.

She was a rock star. Loved having a bag, didn't really have any idea what she was putting in it, but it didn't matter, she was getting stuff, and she loves tiny little things. At the second house she wasn't content to merely take a few pieces from the bowl left on the porch. Oh no, she ran around to the side door, grabbed the latch and started kicking the door in. It's a good thing she's so cute.

Actually, they all are pretty freaking cute.

It's a sad realization that baby is gone and no matter how hard I try to keep her from growing up, she keeps doing it anyway. It's weird, this phase, because it happens so fast. Baby one week, toddler next, and in a few short months, we will be celebrating her second birthday. Yikes.

Backtracking a bit, we went booing again this year. It's kind of a simple and silly concept (bring a sack of Halloween treats to someone's door, ring the door bell and run away) but the kids get such a kick out of it, I can't help but get super psyched for it every year. The fact that they get to stay out past dark is almost too much for them to handle. It's so fun. Penelope didn't really get the idea of ringing the doorbell and running away. She would hide behind a bush and wait for our friends to answer the door, and then jump out and say "BOO!". Which makes sense because it is called "Booing". It still makes me laugh to think of her crouched down in the bushes with her dress up dress on.

On a side note, my poor housekeeping makes for stunning Halloween decor...

and speaking of decor, everything except this web has been packed up for next year and we are on to Thanksgiving decorating.

...and there will be more, thanks to at second street.

And there is so much to be thankful for. I feel it everyday.

On the Winds of Change

2011-10-09T22:16:00.003-05:00

Things are changing.

And I mean more than just the colors of the leaves and the coolness of the winds. I am sensing a greater, deeper change in the air....or more specifically, in little hearts.

Responsibility.

Jaxon has been catching bugs lately and putting them in his little bug houses. And he has a protector ("I am going to 'retect him, Mom.') instinct that meshes with this incredible nurturing instinct. He wants to be sure his charges are well taken care of, so when little grasshopper was deader than a doornail the day after the great capture, little man was absolutely crushed and filled with the kind of remorse one would hope to see from Casey Anthony. Through sniffles and tears he sobbed because he chose to keep the grasshopper instead of letting him go, and as result, he died.

I love his sweetness for all things little. I love that he enjoys caring for creatures. I love that these are key aspects of who he is and the type of person he is becoming. And yes, of course there are times when his sweet, gentle spirit is hidden and his tiger personality emerges, but that's okay. I love that part, too.

Part of my job is to let him nurture all sides of his personality and to know when it's okay to release the tiger and when to hold him back. Like when a boy at school was picking on Jaxon's little woman on the playground, he didn't hold back. He knocked the kid to the ground, brilliantly saving his damsel in distress. And that makes me oh so proud.

First Response.

According to all the milestone charts, Lucy should be saying about a dozen or so words by now. She's not, (Seriously, she doesn't even say "bye bye") but then again, she doesn't need to. She understands things just fine, and she has a killer pointer finger (think Ghost of Christmas Future) and two siblings at the ready, anxious to fetch whatever it is she wants, and if they are for some reason unwilling, she makes such a stink about it that I will either tell the kids to do whatever she wants, or I'll just give in to her myself. Yes, she is spoiled, and I don't mind. She's my baby.

Still, she has a heart of gold. If she hears a brother or a sister crying, she is the first to drop what she is doing and rush to their side. Gently she offers a two-pat two-stroke chest rub maneuver and then she goes in for the double-arm-wrap-around hug, complete with a little-sister-chin-press-into-Xiphoid-process-of-bigger-sibling-sympathy-puppy-eye-stare. It's priceless.

And I'm soaking her up as my baby and learning that I'm really loving this age and everything it has to offer. When Jaxon was 18 months, I had just given birth to Penelope; and when Penelope was 18 months, I was pretty exhausted being pregnant with Lucy. Now, it's just Lucy and her reign as princess baby is going strong with no little rival on the brink of an uprising. I am hanging on to all her babyness... like this hair...

and I unashamedly offer up the paci and put milk in a bottle even though she is a fully capable straw sipper, just because I like her as the baby, and I can do those kinds of things just because I am the mom. That's right, me, the mom.

Independence.

Penelope is a juxtaposition. She is as beautiful as the sky before the storm and as powerful and destructive as the storm itself; but even in her most irate Katrina moments, she makes me laugh. She is so small on the outside, yet her personality is oh so big. She is so independent.

This summer she swiped a Barbie from the pool, and now Barbie lives in the bathtub. And then one night my heart cracked a bit when Penelope brought me Barbie and announced, "I want my hair to match Barbie." I wasn't sure how I was going to explain to her that a short dirty blonde 'do was never even going to come close to those ridiculously long platinum locks of Barbie's, but before I could even think about what I was going to say, my Penelope demands, "Get the scissors, cut off her hair." Done and done. Now Barbie has a bob, and Penelope is happy because she and Barbie match and she also says that Barbie's head feels so much better because she doesn't have all that hair.

She has the attitude and the vocabulary of a thirteen year old and routinely insists that I "figure it out" myself when I ask her a question, like "what did those girls get a time out for in ballet?" Answer: "Figure it out, Mom." and there is quite a long emphasis on the "Mooooom" part.
But she is just as sweet as she is sassy, wanting to help baby sister everywhere: in the car seat, out of the car seat, up the stairs, down the stairs, in the tub out of the tub and even is giving her lessons in crib escape.

She is always saying, "Lulu, hold my hand" to which Lulu is eager to oblige, or "It's ok Lucy, shhh, shhh" when she cries.

Growing up, one of the great tidbits of wisdom handed down to me by my father was "with great privilege comes great responsibility". I'm pretty sure that quote came from either Batman or Spiderman, but where ever it came from, it holds much truth; and I'm discovering that it also works in reverse, with great responsibility comes great privilege.

I work hard at home, but I also am privy to some amazing things that I would otherwise miss. Watching the relationship between the girls is like pure magic. They fight, and they fight hard...

but they also love just as hard....

Penelope is the first to tell me if Lulu is crying and Lulu is the first to run to Penelope when she is crying. They have this unspoken big-sister/little-sister bond, little sister looks at big sister like this...

and being a little sister, I know exactly what that look means.....

Insert Tod and Copper quote here...

And that's something that I hope will never change.

Hello Again.

2011-10-03T10:00:00.003-05:00

Instead of a gradual changing of the season, this year it's as if someone flipped a switch and now we are in fall, full steam ahead. We've said goodbye to popsicles and flip flops and hello to warm cider and footed pajamas. The temperatures have dropped and we are suiting up to another beautiful, blissful fall.

Soccer started. This had been a dream of mine since Jax was born. It's never what I expect, but it's fun. Check out this field.

This girl will be ready for the women's USA team in no time.

She's got some mad skillz.

Of course, she is not to be outdone by her brother.

And this part is the funniest thing ever. They line all the balls up across the field (of course, OCD Jax tries to organize them by color.....) and they line all the kids up, yell "GO!" and off the kids go in a running of the bulls fashion. It's hilarious.

Earlier this month, Lucy and I took of to the great Midwest...

Lucy was a complete lunatic on the tiny plane...throwing her cheerios on the passengers behind us and pull the hair of the passengers in front of us. It's a good thing she is as cute as she is, or they probably would have kicked her off.

But all is well that ends well, and where there's a Nana and a Boo, there is usually a very interesting dance party at some point.

Dance parties aside, the reason we came up was to welcome the newest cousin to the clan.

Lucy and I had a wonderful and much needed break. It was good to be surrounded by family: sisters, little nieces and the new nephew; but there's nothing quite like coming back home to my own crazy tribe.

And this weekend, we pulled out all the stops for some good old fashioned apple pickin' fun.

The Lubird is a pro.

She walked hand in hand with me, carefully spotting tasty apples and gently chucking them into her plastic bag, which was bigger than she was.

Girlfriend can pull her weight in the apple department.

You won't find a guy with worse travel luck, but he can find a mean four leaf clover. Too bad we don't really need it.

And my lil' Romeo is forever picking me beautiful flowers.

After almost two years, one million dud photos and 5 minutes of daddy doing the crazy dance behind mommy, I finally have a picture with all six eyeballs looking in the same direction. Prepare to see this picture again near Christmas time....probably in the mail.

And as it turns out, I'm not the only photographer in the family. My little artist is becoming quite the budding photographer as well. Jaxon took this picture of Rick and me. Not bad.

The orchard, as always, did not disappoint, and the sky in all it's splendor did it's best to create the perfect backdrop for our perfect day beckoning us to return. And we will.

The Return of All Things Good.

2011-09-06T21:42:00.012-05:00

As soon as I feel like Summer has overstayed her welcome, Fall stops by for a visit. Then, after a few days of gray skies, and night time showers, cool evenings on the porch, and crisp mornings, it is clear she has decided to move in. Slowly, she unpacks, making herself at home, placing a few brilliant colors here,

an incredible sunset there,

and in the mornings, she gently wraps the mountains in warm cloaks of soft white and gray clouds.

Fall's perfect degree days allow for more of this:

nature play. When I was growing up, it was just what we did, we played, in nature. Now there's a term for it. Nature Play. It seems redundant. Like, air-breathing, shouldn't it always go together?

Oh well.

So we are enjoying more adventurous nature play. If Lubird sees a pool, she's in. She doesn't care if she doesn't have a suit, or if she has to climb down rocks to get there. She's a water baby.

Fall also brings the return of tiny slippers, leotards and the "point, flex, point, flex" mantra of ballet class....

the first day of school...

and a little more time to snuggle with my little one.

Speaking of little ones, Baby Sister is getting married.

We heart Ben and Boo.

Happy Friday.

Life is Beautiful

2011-08-29T23:03:00.005-05:00

Our summer morning light is beautiful.

It spills through the windows, welcoming little eyes to the day....

but the truth is that even though this scene looks calm and serene, the mornings are a loud chaotic mess of whiny kids that didn't sleep long enough and a grumpy Momma who just wants a moment's peace to drink her coffee while it's still ~~hot~~ lukewarm.

I am really. looking. forward. to. school.
I like the structure, I like our routines, I like that they have fun playing with their friends and that I can actually go to the store without little people running up and down the aisles and ramming mini carts in to people (and then scolding them "watch where you are going!" *finger wag*) and asking a dozen times for colored goldfish.

Breaks are good for everyone, and I'm looking forward to a little kid break, to get more housework done.....yippee.

So, we got the new shoes.

Well, Jaxon got new new shoes, and Penelope got Jaxon's old one but she loves them and they are new to her.

They are both faster now.

Irene showed up, we got her more calm, more beautiful side. The one that reminds me that with every storm comes beauty....somewhere. We had front row seats to this light show....and FYI, this is raw, absolutely no saturation, or color booster, this is the real deal, baby.

Seeing the reality of the earthquakes and hurricanes this week, reminded me that our own little quakes, the one that seem earth shattering, are really very small, and that despite a few set backs here and there, we have been given such a beautiful little life. I don't know how many times I said this weekend, "I love this, I love this stage, I love our perfect little life."

And in our life, there is lots of end-of-summer watermelon....

And this weekend was filled with our favorite summer rituals...

Polo.

The Orchard.

Pool.

We ended the weekend with the BEST BBQ in the world...

it seriously does not get better than a huge smoker on the side of the road...

delish.

And of course, no summer weekending would be complete without tutu biking. A sport unique to Penelope.

Goodbye, Summer. It's been fun, see you next year!

Minestrone

2011-08-17T22:52:00.002-05:00

I always joke that I love my camera and my computers as much, if not more, than my flesh and blood children. But when push comes to shove, it's my flesh and blood that win out every single time, and my camera and my computers, and my little blog, get neglected.

I've sat down to try to write something so many times, but the problem is not that "nothing comes" the problem is that everything comes. Always, some one, somewhere, needs something, for whatever reason; and as is often the case with motherhood, sometimes there is no real reason at all except just sometimes, babies need they mamas. And that's fine. That's just how it should be.

So little blog, I'm sorry I've neglected you, but you are just not as important as....

the changes.

I've seen the first of the fall leaves, noticed the slight dip in temperatures,

felt the hint of cooler breezes sweeping down off the mountain, and I'm excited for this annual changing of the seasons; and with it, brings a whole new era.

Five.

Jaxon, my precious seven pound two ounce baby boy is suddenly a strong, tall, quite handsome little man. I never knew five years could feel like such a short amount of time, but it does, and I know, it'll seem like another blink of an eye and then he'll be getting married.....to Molly. And he is going to propose to her with three rings, a crown, a wand and a princess tattoo because and I quote "girls like that stuff." I suppose it will pay off for him in the long to have two highly fashion conscious sisters.

****

There are a few "mom-stones", you know, like mile stones, only they are things that happen as a mom that make you really feel like, well, a mom. For me, that list would include:

1) the first ultrasound
2) labor
3) installing a car seat
4) understanding the car seat installation process
5) getting puked on, etc. use your imagination
6) licking your thumb and using your saliva to rub something off a child's face
7) using your sleeve as a tissue for someone else
8) minivandom
9) soccer games
10) constructing a birthday cake

Most of these have come fairly easy for me, except that last one. I can never seem to get the cake thing right. I can make a mean batter, but I'm useless with the cake. It's always too hard, too soft, too crumbly, too thin, too lop-sidded; I want to be Buddy, the Cake Boss, but I'm more like Helen Keller in the kitchen when it comes to baking.

Exhibit A

Luckily, I'm really good at buying things, and am a little creative, so I bought this:

and turned it into this:

voila!

Happy Birthday.

****
So, the birthday party. I'm no Kelle Hampton, but I do okay for myself. This year, Jaxon had a Pirate Party which was super fun. For more photos, click here, and please, don't be shy, friend me if you have to!

*****

I love my skies.

I love that I live in a world in which "chalk" is a verb, and the use of improper pronouns is the norm (i.e. her doesn't want that), and I get to hear stories about what Penelope did when she was a fairy and a very little girl, and Jaxon asks questions about when he "hatched". I'm glad I live in a world where I am not away and miss these precious little tidbits, but I have the luxury of enjoying my kids when they are kids.

We're learning bikes

("it's okay, lucy, I got you")

and swings

and playing in puddles

but mostly I'm learning how to love them more, in the ways they need it most, because that's the most important thing of all.

Year Six

2011-08-04T10:41:00.002-05:00

I have it all written down somewhere...how we met, how it felt, the newness of it all, the excitement, the hope of a future. It's probably in the attic along with other random bits of memorabilia of our lives.

I'm glad I wrote it all down then, because the truth is, the beginning of US is pretty foggy. I remember some details...meeting at Denny's, eating LOTS of ice cream, long late night conversations, the fact that I told him really early that I wanted LOTS of babies and being happy that he wanted lots of babies, too. That was a major point in our relationship, because if he was a one or two kid kind of guy, that would have been a deal breaker for me.

We fell fast, and we fell hard, and like most good romantic movies, our courtship was filled with Grammy-worthy drama topped off with a spur-of-moment diamondless proposal. It was all real, and raw, and what I love most about us still, six years later, is that nothing is ever over-thought, or planned out. We have a general direction in which we are moving, our goals are the same, but we take what life throws at us and we roll with it's punches. And that keeps it good, and it keeps us real.

If I can say anything about the last six years, it's that we've been incredibly efficient. We've finished med school, half of residency, and having 3 of 4 kids is a pretty big chunk for the first six years of married life. But it's been an absolute blast and I wouldn't change a thing.

Babe, thank you for being an incredibly supportive and loving husband, and thank you for giving me my perfect "happily ever after".

Woman against Beast

2011-07-31T23:02:00.005-05:00

From the dawn of time, there has been conflict between man and beast. For centuries they have fought each other, sometimes man conquering beast, and sometimes beast conquering man.

We have had lots of beastly sightings:

behold, the slug

and the pout that ensues from being told she can't squish the slug

behold, the killers wasps

the blood thirsty bug

the little moths

and have you ever seen the eyes of a butterfly? look closely....

But perhaps the most disturbing beast of all, is the one within myself, that emerges when patience runs thin, hyperactivity due to over-tiredness runs high, and bottles of medicated powder are unleashed throughout the house at getting-ready-for-bedtime hour.

Motherhood has a knack of bringing out the very best in me, but it can also bring out the very worst...the part that I want to shove back into the closet and hide from because I hate that I have this rage that is a built in part of me. And even though it's hard to face these monsters, I believe it is necessary in order to emerge as the mother I want to become. The one with the patience, the one with the ever-ending forgiveness, the one that can enjoy a crazy hot mess.

Children are gifts in so many, many ways and I think one of the most important is that they force you to see the part of yourself that needs fixing and can't be ignored. If you are not patient, have a kid....you will become patient. If you are self-centered, have a kid...you will be cured. If you are a control freak, have a kid....you can't control them. And that's the scary challenge of it all. In our quest to perfect these little beings, they magnify in the imperfection in us only without offering any solution.

So here I am. Shammed at this bitter rage that ignites in me and hoping beyond hope that the buck will stop with me, and I can learn calm, serenity, and patience in the face of those "are you insane?" moments. I don't want to teach my kids that it's alright to yell and scream when we are mad, but I guess all I can do is hope and pray and try harder the next time the powder flies...which, coincidentally, was the very next day when Penelope emptied a bottle of baby powder all over the upstairs. And I know from my much calmer reaction the second time, that I'm getting better, and hopefully, someday, I'll fully emerge....

Journies

2011-07-22T12:52:00.003-05:00

Jaxon doesn't like his photo taken. He does these weird faces and moves his head in awkward positions. So I explained to him that when he's all grown up and has his own little boy, all I'll have left in the house to remind me of all the fun we had together, is my pictures.

The boy burst into tears, ran to me, sobbed something about how he doesn't ever want to leave me and doesn't want that day to come, and that even when he's eight, he still wants me to cuddle him.

Crack went my heart. I explained that growing up is okay, and it's what we are supposed to do and it's a good thing, and we promised that we would build houses next to each other and live side by side, always. I don't know how his future wife will feel about that, but for now, we are happy with that plan, and he lets me take pictures of him.

He's growing up. It's happy and it's sad, and he's turning from a little boy into a big boy and the transition is fast and furious and it's at these huge milestones that I fiercely want to freeze time because it's speeding up faster and faster.

*****

Penelope is doing some growing up of her own as well. We've been learning some hard lessons, like, we don't steal. Yes, she stole. I took her shopping and she fell in love with a piddly panda necklace that was $10. I would have paid .10 but not actual American dollars. So we found some really cute bags instead. So after we picked out ONE bag, paid for it and left the store, I opened up the bag tucked gently inside was panda necklace.

Tricky, tricky trickster.

I did not want to give the stealing lecture, I wanted to just sweep it under the rug, I wanted to ignore it, but in my heart of hearts I knew it wasn't an accident. I knew it was pre-meditated three year old theft and it needed to be dealt with and nipped in the bud.

After all, I distinctly remember the one and only time I stole and the experience was so horrific I never did it again. I knew I needed to give her the same gift.

So after a little confrontation, which is super hard when the face in question is this one:

we marched right back to Gymboree and confessed our sin. Through shame and sobs, Penelope handed back the the necklace, said "sorwy" and we left.

I don't know if I handled it perfectly, I don't know if she'll ever steal again, but I do know that she knows it's wrong. And that's my job...teaching her what's right and what's not.

*****

Lulubooboo, well, she's just a ham and a half.

Sometimes the twists and the turns on this road of parenthood are not fun, but they are necessary to bring our kids to the people they need to become, and although it's hard and it's messy and raising kids isn't this a perfect package and it's a lot more than just a pretty nursery, I am so blessed to be able to walk with my kids down these less than cheery life paths. I'll continue to do that, to hold their little hands as we go together, sometimes me teaching them, but more often than not, it's them teaching me, and that's the most exciting part.

Sick and Summer

2011-07-15T07:06:00.005-05:00

Sick decided to stay a while. He has moved on from Jaxon, who has bounced back 100% to Little Lulubooboo and it's no wonder that between feeling under the weather, the welcoming of teeth numbers 3,4 and 5, and an unconventional introduction to the edge of the coffee table (courtesy, Penelope) her favorite place seems to be right here....

we've moved up from the normal sized bjorn to the huge baby size bjorn....because even Penelope gets sick once in a while....

I love how her fat legs wrap around me like she's a little koala....

***

The template for most days here in paradise is school, lunch, pool, repeat. My kids are natural water babies and despite the religious reapplication for 50+ SPF once every hour, their little pale bodies have turned a nice golden brown so much so that when they are bare, they still look like they are wearing bright white suits. (Pictures spared.)

But every once in a while, the rain will come pouring in from over the mountain, a beautiful site to behold, and our pool fun has to wait. Nonetheless, the kids crave the water, and they'll take it in any form.

So while I sit, I watch as my tiny dancer dances in the drops.....and can I just point out...look at the RUNNING FORM!!! Blessed be the day she starts hurdles. (I knew from her first ultrasound and the grand length of her skinny little femurs that one day, she too, would be a force to be reckon with.)

and I watch as our sky dresses in Care-a-lot couture,

and my babies in their swim/rain gear

and I love it.

Trailing the showers is the bright, golden sun and then the kids decide being outside is no more fun....the puddles dry up, the tiny rivers for leaf boats shrink, leaving the leaf boats docked uncomfortably in the gutter and abandoned,

and so we venture back inside, usually collapsing into a heap somewhere, drained from the effort of having so much fun...

and we wait for tomorrow....

Hot Child in the City and/or Country

2011-07-10T10:04:00.000-05:00

Two nights ago, I went upstairs to check on the kids and has I bent over Jaxon to kiss him goodnight for the umteenth time, I knew something was terribly wrong when I could feel the heat rising from his body before my hand was close enough to touch it. His head, chest and back burned my palm, and as I picked up his forty pound body, it lay in my arms completely limp, his normal amount of muscle tone, absent. He wimpered, his eyelids fluttered and he mumbled something about having a tail.

Last night, after bathing the last little bottom and kissing clean baby faces goodnight, after I picked up the last stuck Cheerio from off the floor, I headed upstairs to crash. Within a few hours, just as I was dozing off, we heard the kind of cry that really means something. It wasn't just a wimper, or complaint, it was the kind of cry that made us leap from our bed and run into the room where it was. Jaxon was tossing and turning and crying in that night terror kind of way. His heart was racing and once again his little body burned.

In a few minutes, he had calmed down and having slept and not eaten for 24+ hours, our little guy was hungry. So, while Daddy read him books on the couch,

I did my best to make some Nana hot porridge at 10:53PM.

and despite the look on his face, he actually did eat it and enjoyed those five tasty bites he took.

and I must have done something right because by 11:00, he was wide awake and ready to start playing.

So what does one do with a 4 year old boy in the middle of the night who isn't showing the slightest bit of sleepiness? Well, I did what every mother would do....I took him outside to see our tiny neighbors....

this one looks like a judge, so dignified

and then, having to forgo the sparklers I bought for the 4th, well, we did a little midnight sparkler action as well....

and then we salted a bunch of slugs, but I didn't take any pictures of that...I don't need PETA coming after me with their red paint cans and posters.

So after the untimely death of an abnormally large slug, Jaxon was exhausted and was able to sleep the rest of the night....along with the rest of the family. Today, he's feeling much better, temp staying nicely at 98.8. So, we are fulfilling our Christian calling and spending our Sabbath as it was directed us in the Bible...we are resting.

Fourth Fun.

2011-07-04T18:32:00.003-05:00

I wish I had some beautifully descriptive words woven together to tell the story of what a beautifully glorious day this Fourth of July has been and how it all means so much and that today I taught my children all about freedom, and patriotism, and the Declaration of Independence, and what it means to be free.

I love that the Marine flag flies right beneath the Stars and Stripes.

But the truth is, today was a total bust. It's the day that just won't end...and even as I'm sitting here sucking down my second Klondike bar of the evening, I'm feeling a bit unpatriotic that I can't so much as even light a sparkler because of the gloomy rain that's pouring outside my window.

Sometimes, in my mommyhood journey, I have these days where I feel like I'm a rat lost in a maze and my every turn lands me with a wall in the face and a bump on the head. Today was one of those days.

I took the kids out to King Family to listen to the live jazz and to let them run around; but all they wanted to do, besides eat "coldies" was to sit and dig through my bag and pull out old Bed Bath and Beyond coupons. That makes sense, doesn't it?

Any normal mother in her right mind would have just hauled everyone back home, but no, not me, I kept on only because I was determined to have some fricken fun, dang it. So we went to my next favorite spot on earth, Chiles Orchard, for some ice cream, Surely, this would be a home run. Nope. Not a chance. Penelope immediately dumped her giant cup of strawberry ice cream on the floor, covered herself in sticky ice cream mess, all the while Lucy is squawking because I can't shovel her ice cream in her mouth fast enough, and I can't get to the napkins fast enough either to contain the gooey mess of diary disaster. Ugh.

On the bright side, the peaches are ready. Papa, hear that? The peaches, white peaches, are ready. So we did have some fun running around the orchard.

Good thing part three of my Happy 4th plan consisted of spending the rest of the day at the pool.....except that as soon as we got there (after I had played the "you don't want to go swimming, do you?" game, and the kids are literally cheering for the pool) thunder and lightening started coming over the mountains and the pool closed. Seriously, it was like the Exodus was happening as soon as we pulled up.

But finally, after an indoor water fight, a couple of kick fights and forcing food down the throats of the children, all was well again when Penelope looked up at me and said, "Mommy, you are are the best Mommy in the whole world". I'm pretty sure I saw a halo over that child's head.

Now the day is done, children sleep soundly in their beds, fireworks boom in the distance, I'm thankful that I didn't haul my kids to fireworks tonight, but instead watched a show on Saturday with our dear friends from Norfolk.

And the irony is that yes, today sucked, my Fourth was a total bust, but because of July 4, 1776 the worst it gets on July 4, 2011 is a bowl of spilled icecream and rainstorms. Because long ago a few people stood up for a few values they believed in, because they believed in something worth fighting for, and not just believed, but fought, and not just fought, but won, my worst days are merely a slight inconvenience compared to the things most of the other mothers in the world have to deal with on a daily basis.

and that, is worth celebrating.

Say Yes! to Michigan

2011-06-28T19:41:00.002-05:00

About ten years ago, Chicago set up cows statues all over the city and painted them. Ever since then, St. Joe has taken this idea and run with it. And when we run, we run all the way home with it little piggie style, and then we run it into the ground.

so here we have, yes, you see it right, mutant radioactive chickens....

and "utterly" realistic looking cows, (sorry, couldn't help myself) complete with terrifying looking veins-a-bulding

begging to be milked...

and right outside the Mecca of the Joe, Lucy Bird met Lucy Lamb.

See? We are serious about our painted animals, the only thing we are more serious about is perhaps our ice cream. We do that up good.

As if a visit to Kilwin's isn't fun enough, then there's the Carousel, the simple idea of the wheel in it's grandest form and for some reason, going round and round and up and down in a circle listening to weird carny music doesn't get old.....ever. Go figure.

Lucy wasn't too sure about it at first...

but soon the carousel worked it's magic and captivated her too.

Home again, home again

2011-06-23T13:05:00.001-05:00

We spent a week at home, soaking up time with aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers and sisters and I would have a truck load of pictures to show for it if I hadn't left my camera in Michigan. Ooops. Well, at least I remembered to bring home all the kids. It was comforting and familiar in the way that only "home" can be. No matter how many years go by, it always smells exactly the same, some mixture of Tide, fresh sheets and potpourri; in the winter it's burning wood, that Christmas smell, and gingerbread.

Mom always makes a feast, the fatted calf is slain, we celebrate birthdays, let the littles blow out candles just because they love to, we eat, brew, bake, hold, rock, cuddle, snuggle, talk for hours on the porch, slap at the giant Michigan bugs and laugh. We take LOL to a whole new level, it's more like KSBSFOYSL (knee-slappin'-belly-shakin'-fallin'-off-your-seat-laughin') because sometimes things really are just THAT frickin' funny.

The babies got to feel hot Lake Michigan sand between their toes in contrast to the freezing cold as ice Lake Michigan water. Most of the beach time was spent playing in make shift hot tubs, towel tents and of course, the playground. Lucy was introduced to the carousel for the first time, and LOVED it (pics soon) and she braved the spray park, arms waving above her blond little head as though she were enjoying the thrill of her very first roller coaster.

Yes, it was a very good week indeed.

And now we are soaking in the pleasures of being home. Our routines, our friends, our life. As summer gears up I try my best to maintain everyone's needs, deal with all of the "stuff" and try to get birthday cards in the mail on time (sorry, Dave) but sometimes schedules and to-do lists get thrown out the window and we jump on the opportunity to go to the pool at bed time. It's funny how we've lived here in the Blue Ridge for almost two years now, and just recently Jaxon has been noticing the mountains. "Oh there's one over there, too!" he says.

Life...I hear her calling me....she's up from nap time.

Sixth Sense

2011-06-09T07:35:00.003-05:00

Last night I woke up for no apparent reason only to hear (3 seconds later) a thump and a cry as Penelope had rolled out of her bed. This isn't the first time that I've woken up a split second before a 3 am feeding cry, or middle of the night barf-a-thon, or one of Jaxon's much-too-frequent nose bleed session which makes him look like he was visited by one OJ Simpson in the night and survived.

It's a sixth sense, part of the mom super power plus package (you know the one that comes with eyes in the back of the head and lie detector powers) but the down side is, and yes, there is always a downside, it's kryptonite if you will, is that it works both ways. Every time I decide to wake 30 minutes early to have my coffee in peace (and hot) and read my email and for heaven's sake, respond to one or two, it never fails, the kids wake up too. Rick can make all the noise in the world between 6 and 6:30 and the kids sleep right thought it but when I so much as delicately place my big toe on the floor, it's "Mooooooooommy!!! Moooooooooommy!" bla bla bla and my taskmasters are hard a work.

Sigh.

But that's okay. School's out and there's no rushing around for bags and lunches in the morning. I'm learning to love the lazy but chaotic pace of my mornings. Lulu is in to throwing her breakfast, and between my two giant cups of coffee, there is usually one swift floor cleaning, a spider killing, a fight breakup, a "why are you naked?!?" and a "don't run out of the house like that!!!"

My saving grace is that we now have a pool, a real pool, no more kiddie plastic fun, and this pool wears the kids out good. So, despite how unlovely our mornings can be, our afternoons generally look like this:

Me love me some quiet time.

And in two days we will go to Michigan. We will have some good old fashioned Walton mountain time.....cousins and more cousins, Aunts and Uncles, beaches, watermelon and sparklers, fireflies, late night porch conversation smothered in Citronella scent. It's the complete essence of summer. It's these types of gatherings that get me through these mornings of crazy chaos...it's the reminder I need that what I do, day in and day out, is in deed of eternal worth and lasting value.

Gwamps

2011-06-03T05:36:00.002-05:00

It started with a simple inquisition.

"Man- where are you goin'?" Penelope address ALL men with "Man", and it was no different when she marched up to our one hippy neighbor.

"I'm goin' fishin'!!" he said back, as he threw a bunch of gear into his car.

"Me too! I'm going fishin' to-MAW-woe wif my GWAMPS." She said it with such certainty I almost asked to see her confirmation number.

In any case, I knew it had to be done. I texted Gramps and said that the Peapod wants to go fishing; and immediately I got this:

"The Peapod will go fishing."

....and a-fishing she did go.

If you teach a man to fish, he can feed himself for life; but if you teach a kid to fish, you have a buddy for life.

Proof.

2011-05-24T22:02:00.003-05:00

Even though the earth's axis isn't quite perfect, or the sun isn't aligned just right, as just because the calendar hasn't hit june 21st, all the other signs are saying, "summer's here".

Every day Jaxon asks, "Is it summer yet?" and today, as we lazed on the porch enjoying the breeze and popping honey cheerios, I said, "Yep. It's summer." And I've got proof.

I caught a glimpse of a smile. The stars have aligned just perfectly.

Our sidewalk, check that, our sidewalk, the neighbors' sidewalks, neighbors porches (sorry, Roxi!) and the path that leads to the playground, and the playground area itself, all have been transformed into a canvas. Every day these spaces get filled with dogs, cats, bunnies, portraits, messages of love and the names of my children. Then the rain comes and washes it all away, only for it all to be recreated again. It's a beautiful garden of color and imagination in perpetual bloom.... I love it.

This one is my favorite. It's me. But I still don't know if that's my hair, or if she drew me with horns.

Bubbles. We have bubbles. Well, we had bubbles. Bubbles don't last very long around here. But when we have them, we do it right.

And then of course, there's the world's best $12 pool, serving us faithfully for the third summer in a row.

And with the pool comes the most adorable chubby bummie ever.....

and beautiful summertime pool buddies....

and if that's not enough proof, there's this....a boy in a baseball outfit. A sure sign. Welcome, summer.

Juice Box Fridays

2011-05-17T08:15:00.001-05:00

I hate juice boxes. I hate the guaranteed mess of the red permanent spray. I hate the sticky aftermath. I hate they way kids suck sugar straight from those straws the same way a hummingbird sucks nectar from a flower....and how they usually run around at the speed of hummingbird after the box is emptied and crumpled and tossed and I have to go fetch it and put it in the properly labeled receptacle. I am a strong believer in kids EATING their fruit, rather than drinking it, because in most cases, they are drinking a very contaminated version of it. I hate concentrate. I hate high fructose.....I hate juice boxes.

For these reasons, I NEVER buy the juice box. My kids drink water from a cup they bring with them to school. I'm such a hater that I even served water in mini bottles at Lulu's BIRTHDAY PARTY.

So when Jaxon said, "I wish you wouldn't pack me something to drink so then I could get a juice box" I cringed. Oh, my boy, he wants a juice box. Gah!

According to Jaxon, most kids at school have juice boxes and if someone forgets a drink, then they get a juice box from the school's stash of them.

Ok, breathe.

"I don't like juice boxes, Jaxon. They are not very healthy for you." I said.

"I know, Mom."

"Do all the other kids have them?"

"Yes."

"How does that make you feel?"

"Bad."

I don't want him to fear being the outcast, to want things just because "they" do, but I also don't want him to go through being the kid whose Mom is such a stickler that he gets made fun of. I don't want rule to trump reason, and I don't ever want "because I said so" to be a real reason.

"Ok Jaxon, look. I don't think juice is a good idea, but since we only have a little bit every day and you do a really good job drinking lots of water, I think it would be alright if you have a juice box on Friday. OK?"

"Horray! Horray!" He looks forward to Friday like never before.

I know this sounds crazy, I do. The kid wants a stinking juice box, what's the big deal?

The point is the process. I don't like something, he does. This same situation is going to repeat itself over and over again, juice is the variable. How do we handle it? Today it's juice boxes; soon it will be curfews, cars, people, and parties. The stakes keep getting higher and higher. I want him to know that he wins when he comes to me first, and that discussing something with Mom and Dad isn't going to result in an automated no, and that yes, I have rules and principles, but they are set up for specific reasons, and compromising a little here and there won't make the entire system fall apart, but rather, will bring us closer together.

War on Hair-or

2011-05-16T08:53:00.001-05:00

In the past few weeks, every time I see the Peapod, or try to get a picture of her, she looks like this...

completely homeless, or doing the Justin Bieber head shake.

Her hair, beautiful, curly, and blonde, is one hot mess.

Seriously, what IS this?

It's stringy, and sticky, painful to wash and even more painful to brush and I have fought my last "get a hair tie!!!" battle.

This certainly wasn't what I was envisioning when I dreamed of having a beautiful little girl.

But I won the war.

Sometimes, as a mom, you just have to go Communist and assume total control.

Through bleary eyes, and screams of "MY HAIR, MY HAIR!" I snipped and snapped until I could at last see her pretty little face.

How I have missed it.

She's got some cute bangs and she's rockin' the curly bob.

Victory is mine!

Sort of.

Birdwatching

2011-05-14T10:06:00.002-05:00

I have three little baby birds.

One is sick.

The silver lining is...

she cuddles when she's sick. But mostly she whines and cries. I can literally count on one hand the times she had really, really cried. 1) Some road trip we were on with Auntie Boo 2) Oct. 4, it was a Monday,...GI troubles 3)Immunizations 4)Another time with Aunt Boo, December (pure coincidence) 4) May 5 (see below) 5)Two nights ago. So when she cries, I know it's bad. She's not herself. She clings to me like a koala in a tree; when she feels me tilt to set her down, her body stiffens and she locks into me harder, she refuses the tub, her once favorite activity, she just wants to be held and cuddled, which I love because she normally doesn't get a lot of that, being the third kid and all.

But she can't seem to kick this and I can't seem to fix it.

Sick Baby. It's the most frustrating thing. All my mom powers are rendered utterly useless in the face of sick baby. I can do nothing. Only watch, and wait, and pray.

Normally, I can fix things. Hungry? Here's some food. Cold? Here's a jacket. Booboo? Bandaid. Sad? Hug. Tired? Bed. Cough? Medicine. Done and done.

But this. This chronic cough/cold/unhappy/tired/weak baby.... I do my best, I do what I can, but it feels like I have nothing.

I push the fluids, look up natural remedies for baby cough, let her sleep, listen, calm, comfort, rock, hug, cuddle and give her lots of extra attention. I can do these things, but it still feels like nothing. And that's hard.

So here's to hoping love will heal.

Mommy Break

2011-05-13T21:51:00.002-05:00

Rick has been working night for the past two weeks. It has it's ups and downs. The nice thing is that the kids get to see him in the morning as opposed to just for dinner and bed time, also, when he's home asleep during the day and Lucy is napping, I don't feel like a negligent parent if I take the older kids somewhere or run to the store.

The down side is that he goes to work right after dinner, which means I'm with the kids all day, and all night, no relief. I've streamlined the bedtime routine and usually I'm able to pull it off with the military precision of Seal Team 6, but still, it's exhausting and by 7pm I am officially checked out.

So a few nights ago, Rick was off and I couldn't leave the house fast enough. I know I'm in dire need of a break when I begin feeling like I'm in the Pelican scene of Finding Nemo, instead of "Mine, Mine, Mine" I'm hearing "Mom, Mom, Mom"....actually, I'm hearing both.

I love my kids, BUT sometimes hearing their non-so-sweet and not-so-little voices grate on my ear nerves like sandpaper. I'm pretty sure I have pre-mature hearing loss.

So I grabbed my other babies, the ones that can't talk, (Nikon and Mac) and drove off. I first went to the cool coffee shop, but then got creeped out by all the hippies milling about, and patchouli stink was the last thing I was needing, so I headed to my favorite mountain. After about two minutes of listening to OTHER children scream and yell I decided I wanted to go somewhere without kids at all. If I'm going to be around kids, they are going to be my own, and I was on a break.

So it was back to the coffee shop. And it was an oasis. No one was talking to me. No one was needing things, the coffee gurus actually asked if I needed something.....finally, I had space to breathe.

Normally, leaving my kids, even with their completely competent father, I can never fully rid myself of that nagging bit of guilt. I guess it's just part of the motherhood. A moment spent on yourself is a moment not spent on them. I guess it's just part of the package, but I'm learning to deal with it. I'm sure I'll eventually get over it; probably right as they are headed off to college, and then I'll miss them like crazy.

But it's true. Sometimes, I need get away. All mamas do. Even the biggest whales need to come up for air every once in a while, and I'm no different. I need space. I need room to think, to breathe, to process, to be....even if it is in a coffee house filled with aging hippies, but hey, as long as they aren't yelling "MOOOOOOOM!!!!" at me from the bathroom, I'm not complaining.

Getting away, yes, it lets me relax and unwind, but it also allows me time to soak it all up and take it all in. I don't want to just mindlessly move from one daily task to the next, and stepping back to look around allows me a minute to see what it is I'm actually spending my days doing, and I get to enjoy it. I get to relive the funny things that were said and laugh again to myself; or I get to go over the the unhappy parts and see where maybe I need to do a little little soul searching...who is needing what from me?

Usually after an hour, I'm good. I'm restored, and missing my babies; ready to take on the next day, and the day after, and the one after that...but mostly I'm just thankful. I realize I am truly and wildly blessed to have my beautiful healthy babies.

I have this little camera, it is small and very funny....

2011-05-10T06:51:00.001-05:00

but it does great work.

My hat is off to you Kendall, mother of my children

2011-05-07T21:53:00.014-05:00

For being such a dedicated, loving, patient, motivated, hardworking and godly mother,

For being one who finds absolute fulfillment in this joy-filled, tiring, priceless, God-given role,

For being a homemaker, nurse, cheerleader, teacher, servant, CEO, chauffeur and shepherd all in the course of one day,

For seeing this job as it truly is: an incredible calling to grow up three precious souls...

and to lift them back up to God that they might bring glory to Him and enjoy Him forever.

Like My Mother

2011-05-07T17:08:00.002-05:00

I said I would never be like my mother,

but then one day I found myself enjoying, no, really enjoying, like I-was-on-the-edge-of-my-seat-in-suspense-mode enjoying an episode of "this old house".

I said I would never be like my mother,

but then one day, I stayed up far too late decorating a birthday cake, cleaning the kitchen and checking in on the kids one last time.

I said I would never be like my mother....

and then one day I noticed I was excited about the price drop on a gallon of milk.

I said I would never be like my mother,

but then one day I said, "Because I said so, that's why!"

I said I would never be like my mother,

but then one day I felt a forehead and new the exact temperature.

I said I would never be like my mother

but then one day I kissed a boo boo and magically, it healed.

I said I would never be like my mother

and then one day I began teaching my kids to read, and now my son reads me bedtime stories.

I said I would never be like my mother,

and then one day I understood that there's always an accident waiting to happen just around the corner, and you have to treat every day like a chess game, and always be 5 steps ahead of your opponent, because in this game, you never want to hear "check mate".

I said I would never be like my mother

and then one day one I stood in the face of a deep cut, a small finger and lots blood, and I handled it.

I said I would never be like my mother

and then one day I prayed, no begged, for patience, peace, and wisdom.

What I'm finding out is that, I was right all along. Although I'm transforming, I will never be like my mother, only now, I wish I could.

Thanks, Mom. Happy Mother's Day.

Win a Boon Stash!!

2011-05-05T19:08:00.007-05:00

Thanks for playing! This giveaway is now closed. Congratulations to my winner, Emilie Rose! Enjoy!

I am so excited about this giveaway, and if you know Boon you will be, too. If you don't know Boon, well, be prepared to fall in love.

We've all seen the beloved Frog Pod. I'm sure if you are a mom with a tub, you probably already have one. The Pod was just the start. Boon has exploded with uber cool AND FUNctional baby gadgets. So when they asked which one I would like to try, my brain almost melted trying to figure it out....but since I had already had my eye on the Stash, I decided to go with that one.....then there was the decision of "what color?"

Well, it came, they saw, it conquered.

I admit it...I am a sucker for cool packaging.

She couldn't get her hands on it fast enough.....

the girl knows how to stash.....

I tried it out in the bathroom too, and I love this idea. You can hang it on the wall or just keep in on the table or the counter or whatever. The circular tubes are all different sizes so you are able to keep just about everything needed for the post-bath-pre-bed cleansing routine.

There are literally, hundreds of uses for this thing around the house and I've decided I need one in almost every room. For starters, the grown up bathroom. Slap this on the wall in Mommy's bathroom and eliminate virtually all counter clutter.
The kitchen. Throw this in the corner to collect all those random bottles of hand sanitizer and Hello Kitty lip glosses and bam! Now the clutter corner is a cool one.
Art table. You've seen how that works; only now I'm picturing a row of them above the art table, one for each kid, for all their junk....I mean art supplies.
Hall way. Keys, glasses, wallet, and if it falls, it's not like it's going to break. Ooh, and you'll love this idea....
The laundry room. Now you can have a place for the nails, lost buttons, pennies, and magic rocks that never make their way out of little boys' pockets, and that ever surfacing single sock. Now you are bound to find the match. And there will still be room left over for actual laundry supplies. Are you in love yet?

So what happened to mine, you ask?

I had an inkling it might end up in a certain little boys' bedroom, it had no choice but to fulfill it's destiny...

as a hip condo complex...

and this is one very happy property manager.

You want one, don't you? One lucky winner will win a Boon Stash in their choice of White, Tangerine, Black or Blue Raspberry. Open to US residents only, please leave a comment with each entry. Giveaway ends May 10 at 11:59pm. The winner chosen by Random.org will be announced May 11. Please check back or leave a valid email address in your comment entry.

You will get one entry for each of the following:

1) leave a comment and a way to get back in touch with you if you win
2) visit Boon News Blog and subscribe
3) "Like" Boon on Facebook
4) Follow Boon on Twitter
5) Follow my blog
6) Grab my button and post it to your blog
7) Tweet this Giveaway
8) Share this Giveaway on FB.

Good Luck! And if you don't win, you can always purchase one on Amazon.

Scatterbrained

2011-05-04T22:51:00.004-05:00

Sometimes, by the end of the day, after all is said and done, and said again, and done, and redone, and I've tried to wash the hot pink nail polish off the walls and out of the cracks between little girls' toes and I've cleaned up multiple "accidents", by the time I get to settle into my groove and have some much needed "me" time when I'm finally not multi-tasking, just doing one thing, my mind blanks out and all the cute and adorable things I wanted to write about have vanished. Mac's blank screen stares at me and I stare back with equal blankness....and posts like this emerge.

Good thing I have a good camera. I can fill up that empty space with some excruciating cuteness.

Sample 1:

Jaxon and I had a date the other day. And he wanted to get actual dates....twelve of them. So we headed to the supermarket to pick up twelve dates for $7/lb, all twelve of which are still sitting in my fridge because he has since decided that he's not much of a fan of dates, but rather, digs the ice cream. Me too, baby.

And what's a good date without spending a minute or fifteen checking out some hard core construction equipment? I know that's what I look forward to on my dates...

Sample 2:

We had the best Easter.

We didn't even dye eggs, but we had friends over, and many, many egg hunts....beautiful weather and cookies. Lots of Easter cookies. This baby digs on cookies.

Sample 3:

Today not included, it's been getting warmer here, and there have been a few days we were able to bust out the baby pool. This pool is still the best $12 I ever spent. Hours upon hours of fun here. But you can't tell that from the "WTH?" face Lulu is making....she's been making a lot of that face lately...maybe it's because she's joining in with the rest of the world at the reaction to her carnival freak family. Oh well...

Sample 4:

It's not that this picture is really cute but rather, what this picture represents. Jaxon is the mastermind behind this masterpiece....we were finding pictures in the clouds...

it's a parasaurolophus, can you see it?

and this it was happens when you give a 4 year old a Nikon D5000...

and of course a picture of Mom which elicits the comment, "Mom, I still love you even if you are not wearing any makeup...I always love how you look." Thanks, sweetie, but A) I wasn't worried, but now I am and B) Is it really that obvious? You are 4. Scary stuff...

Sample 5:

Penelope's first big girl party. A party without the entire crew. We, excuse me, she picked out an outfit, for about thirty minutes and fifteen costume changes. She was thrilled and she looked fantastic. Little plastic heels and all. I love my little fashionista.

Sample 6:

Yes, this is a ridiculous amount of cuteness for one person. There should be welfare for cute. She's so cute she should be taxed half and be forced to give it to some of the uglies because it's just too much. She's definitely the 1% that rules the cute. She like the Bill Gates of cuteness.....

ok, so I think my kid is cute, sue me.

Sample 7:

The "Time Out Face"

The most beautiful saddest time out face I've ever seen. I can't even remember what she did.....oh, she ran away....again.

Post green-frosted-cookie cute.

perfect "time out toes"

and the perfect "end of time out" cuddle.

And now, it's almost tomorrow, this Mama needs a time out, too.

Goodnight.

This Life Is Good

2011-04-25T22:16:00.004-05:00

I've vacuumed up the last of the Easter grass. Jaxon hangs on to one last egg which now houses his Parasaurolophus. The candy is all gone and the thrill of Easter egg hunts and opening up Easter baskets has passed, and I've put my chick salt 'n pepper shakers away...(I had to get them).

Last night we lost power. Kids were excitedly freaked out and I was reminded of this certain human trait: we yearn for the light.

And the darkness isn't all bad. No power means having to go down with the sun. So that means I cannot stay up late to do the many post bedtime tasks, i.e. kitchen cleanup, mountains of laundry (trying to fold clothes with children around is like trying to make a sand castle under water), my "me time"; it's nice to occasionally have to not do something.

Last night the social networking happened on porches instead of in front of computer screens, I enjoyed pleasant conversation and a light show in the sky. The beauty of a storm is really a magnificent thing, especially from a porch.

And in a small way, or rather, a really big way, Easter, the darkness, it's all connected.

I watched as my children frantically looked for a flashlight, a nightlight, an electric clock or light up turtle, something to give them light. We are hard wired for light, we yearn for light. To be in darkness, is uncomfortable and unnatural. We wait for light.

And isn't that just Easter? The light rising victorious over the darkness, life over death, life, ever lasting.

As Jaxon and I walked hand in hand to the park to collect the last of the eggs, he smiled and said, "Mom, isn't this life good?"

That made me happy. In one sense I'm happy because I'm doing what I've set out to do. I want to give him a good life. I want him to look back and remember a childhood filled with beautiful memories and bits of magic. In a deeper sense, it makes me happy because I so believe in what is to come; that if Jaxon thinks that this life is good, baby, just wait until the next one, until "His kingdom comes, on earth as it is in heaven."

Sophia

2011-04-19T20:12:00.005-05:00

This is Sophia.

I struggled with writers' block big time while thinking about this post because all my thoughts seemed to end up ranting and raving about the fact that the abortion rate for unborn babies with DS is now up to 92%; and I didn't want to spend the whole post screaming about how if 92% of any group of people were suddenly discarded there would be riots and protests and unrest and you name it, but for these little guys, the battle is on the outside because their lives get snuffed out before their little almond eyes can even see the light of day....so yeah, I wasn't going to get up on my soap box.

So again,

This is Sophia.

And while it is easy to look at her and focus on what she can't do, I like to focus on what she can do.

Sophia can sit up, smile, laugh, and babble.

Sophia can eat cake.

Sophia can melt your heart.

Sophia can love life.

Sophia can love period.

Sophia's Mama has put together an amazing resource for families welcoming babies with Down Syndrome. Her mission is to help families realize that living with DS means these kids just need a little extra support; and really, and who doesn't need a little extra support once in a while? I know I do.

Wonderful Year of Lucy

2011-04-15T10:00:00.003-05:00

Today, I celebrate.

One year ago today, I was feeling that beautiful twinge, the one that means a new life is churning and preparing to be born.

Those early pains, the ones that still allow for a smile, are so exciting. What they mean, what they are helping to bring forth; they say, "today you'll meet your baby".

I remember telling myself to rest, because I'll need my strength for the wee hours. But mothers are not meant for resting. We are made for preparing, for nesting, for welcoming. I rearranged the furniture, cleaned, laundered, set up the nursery, built the crib, washed the sheets, prepared tiny clothes.

Lucy was on the move.

I labored comfortably and freely all day, and by 9pm, I was exhausted, in pain, and ready for relief. Rick and I made an agonizing trip to the hospital, in a whisper I asked him to be careful over the bumps in the road, they were excruciating. I closed my eyes and retreated deep within, to my quiet place, imagining my breath coming and going, in and out of my body, which shook and trembled with the waves of pain.

I was wearing my Wheaton College sweatshirt with the holes in the thumbs. I like it because I can pull the hood up over my head, a sign that says, "leave me alone for about a minute and half, I'm having a contraction" and then I pop back out of my shell for a bit until the next one comes.

Labor is a strange and funny thing. It's such hard work, you work up a sweat, but at the same time, all the energy is focused towards the middle, so for me, my hands and feet are always freezing. It makes for interesting attire.

And then it was time. Time to meet Baby3. I had to dig deeper than I ever had before. I was too tired to even open my eyes, I was too weak to utter a sound. But I knew that if I wanted it to be over, I had to get this baby out. And I did. She came into this world perfectly and beautifully and they took her and cleaned her up, announced that she was a big healthy girl, and I lay there, smiling on the inside, still too weak to even pick my head up and look at her. I remember being so surprised that she was a girl. Hers was my favorite birth.

(No, I didn't put her back on the scale as a three month old; this is her at birth.)

I can hardly believe that she is turning one and in a small way, I'm in mourning. She's no longer the teeny tiny baby I brought home from the hospital. She no longer is content to be a spectator of the world around her. She is not longer a docile little creature. She has bloomed. She has come into her own. She is big, and she strong, and is moving. She squeals and screams and yells. She has fight in her, she has heart, she has pride. She's not yet walking, but she's figured out how to climb up the slides on the playground, she's slain the stairs and she is becoming a master of strolling her own babies. She's keeping up with her siblings and has been known to throw a punch or two.

But at the same time, she's still my baby. She still snuggles into the nook of my neck and gives me buddy pats on the back. Her cry is still quieted by my touch and her eyes follow me around the room. Her smile greets me in the morning and her tired eyes bid me farewell in the evening.

Three hundred sixty-five days after that beautiful meeting in the quiet hospital room, she still slays me. Her little soul is interwoven with mine in an intricate and complexly beautiful way. Her look, her rosy plump little cheeks, her telling grin, her little "i'm-looking-for-you-over-my-shoulder-are-you-going-to-get-me-off-these-stairs?" expression are just a few bits and pieces of everything I love about my baby. And it's a combination of those little things, plus a whole lot more, that ignite this fierce fire in my soul, this Mama Bear in hibernation, and I want to protect her with everything in me, from everything out there. And that's easy to do while she's young, and I know it'll be more challenging as time rolls on, but I'll do it. Look out world. Don't mess with Lucy, don't wannna wake this Mama Bear.

Ok, that was a tangent.

All I want to really say is this:

Happy Birthday, Lucy!

I Love You.

Mother Nature Needs a Chill Pill

2011-04-05T06:37:00.007-05:00

Mother Nature has gone postal. One minute it's beautiful and I'm bringing out the flips and shorts and the next, I'm telling the kids to get their jackets on. It's like Mother Nature is trying to make a decision and can't make up her mind, or she's having mood swings, or all of the sudden she's experiencing manic depression. Once upon a time it was nice and sunny and warm here in the Blue Ridge, but lately, excuse me, last night, was like an episode from Storm Chasers. So this past Saturday, blistery as it was, it wasn't raining, so I jumped at the chance to spend some quality time outside, despite the wind, gray skies and all of those pesky forty-eight degrees.

(see the gray?)

(and now the blue?)

(The next Mark Zuckerberg.....only nicer and definitely cuter)

It was too windy and cold to let the baby out of her Maclaren cocoon, but Jax and Penelope played as hard as we could for as long as we could and then the rain came and chased us away. But since I had already spent time and energy packing food, going home without having had a picnic was definitely not an option.

So we found this spot....

and had a picnic in the car overlooking the valley...

Mission accomplished.

And as an added bonus, we passed this pleasant little sight and it just made me happy.

Butterballs

2011-04-03T12:53:00.003-05:00

As a first time mom, it was my belief that nearly everything Jaxon came in contact with was a potential killer. A wayward germ here, BPA there, I saw anything and everything as hazzerdous to his health.

Nearly five years later, my "killers" list is pretty small and these are the things I really, truly fear: childhood diseases, backovers (not to be confused with "back walk-over") and death by water.

Guess what's not on that list....

Letting the kids butter their own pancakes and drown them in syrup.

I realize that this is a quadruple bypass-inducing amount of butter. But every great once in a while, it's okay to overload because it's fun....

and tasty.....

and in my experience, the more kids are allowed to help with the preparation of their own food, the more of it they eat...

and they like it.

And I like that.

Still Trippin' from the Road Trip

2011-03-29T06:15:00.006-05:00

"Road Trip" used to mean piling in the car with buddies, blasting music, eating crappy food and taking turns driving through night in order to reach some tropical spring break destination.

Now, it means stocking the car with animal crackers, apples, bananas, diapers, wipes, extra clothes, books, toys, DVD's, DVD players, listening to hours upon hours of the Baby Einstein remake of "Flight of the Bumblebee", making bottles without spilling, and lots of potty breaks.

Road trips....they aint' what they used to be.

6am on Saturday, we piled the kids into the car to travel 6 hours to South Carolina for our dear friend's wedding.

At 6am, it's still dark outside. For my kids, Being outside, in the dark, and getting into the car to go someplace is the equivelent to let's say, someone discovering that the earth is a cube. It completely upsets every single thing they know to be true about their world.

"I'm sared" says Penelope.

"Don't worry," I tell her, "It's an adventure."

"Oooooohh," she says wide eyed.

And it was an adventure. We traveled in fair and stormy weather, stopped at a nice hotel for bathrooms and to take advantage of the continental breakfast, changed in the parking lot of a Chick-fil-a, and miraculously made it to the wedding with about five minutes to spare.

(this is a random chick taking a smoke break while hiding behind a bush..haha!)

The kids did great; but a six hour car ride doesn't come without a price. Penelope avenged herself with a piano solo during the exchange of the vows. Point taken, girl. You will never go to a wedding again.

There were some other highlights too:

This is the view from our window. Beautiful.

And we all got a kick out of this giagantor peach. What?!?

and lucky us, we have family in the area. And this particular family, was family with cookies. Jaxon was a huge fan of Aunt Martha.

Road trips....making good time to have a good time; and it was a very good time, but it will be a long time, until we do it again.

Untitled

2011-03-24T07:38:00.005-05:00

Ah...it feels good to be back. I don't like to be away long from my happy little blog because I feel like I might forget something before I have the chance to write it down I'll lose it forever.

Like the other day when I told Jaxon to stop stressing me out because it will give me wrinkles and he says, "Mom, that doesn't mean anything to me." It was funnier if you were there, I swear.

Or when Penelope had lickity-split it down the hill and into the parking lot of our friendly neighborhood strip mall, so I sat her down and told her I was going to have to punish her, and she replies with a, "That is very bad news" without even so much as smirk, she was dead pan Debbie.

And then there is Lucy, the stairway bandit, who not once, but twice tried to push Penelope down the stairs on their way to the top. Penelope of course, was asking for it, climbing right beside her and boo-booing right in her face, and Lucy had had enough and very thoughtfully and premeditatively body checked her.

And in between trying to be present for all these hilarious moments, there is still the reality of having to always be prepared for the next thing, and it is usually then that something I haven't prepared for happens.

Lately, and I supposed this has to do with the way the earth is tilted on its axle and our particular relationship to the sun at the point in time, but in any case, lately, around 5 o'clock, the time when usually I'm getting dinner on the table for all the hungry little birds, the heavens declare the glory of God. Seriously. The clouds part, the sun shines, not just normal sun, but beams of golden splendor, so much so that I half expect to see a bunch of Care Bears sliding down the golden beams, and everything lights up in this Midas touch sort of way, I have a habit of grabbing the camera and screaming at the kids to "hurry up! it's the good light!! Get out side...who cares about shoes???.. just go, GO, GO!!" But then of course, no one is still long enough for me to get any good photos. I just mainly get the backs of their heads as they zoom by me Jackie Joyner Kersee style. But the sky stays still...

I'm rambling.

The last few weeks have been milestones in the life of our boy. He's riding an insanely super duper cool big kid bike, courtesy Mimi and Papa.

And, he began Blast Ball...which is baby baseball. It's the rutentutenest cutest thing on earth.

Spring is all about baseball and bikes and Daddy takes this girl for a spin as much as he can. She yells, "faster! faster!"

but then there are those days that are too wet to play and we are stuck in the house all the cold cold wet day

and I get a kick out of those days too.

Ballet

2011-03-09T22:01:00.004-05:00

There are a few things in life that I have awaited with much anticipation...driver's license, my own car, going to college, getting out of college, getting married, having babies, soccer momdom, and taking a little princess girl to ballet.

I always wanted to be a ballerina. My greatest regret in life, is that I quite dancing and played basketball. Ugh.

I've been looking for a ballet school for Penelope since she was born. I actually found one in Norfolk that started at age one. She turned one, barely learned to walk, and we went.

And then we moved and all the places around here start at age 3.

First, we had to visit an actual "ballet store". They don't sell ballet shoes at Target. We had a big girl outing to get her ballet shoes. She had to sit on a stool on a mini stage in front of the mirror, while the store girl looked for the shortest yet widest ballet shoe she could find.

Penelope's face beamed with excitement as she waited patiently and cooperated while the girl slid her little slipper on her foot. Then, like a professional, she did a few moves in front of the mirror, just to make sure these shoes were going to work.

So a few weeks ago, she turned three, she's got the walking down now, so we went.

She's loving it. And I'm loving watching her love it. She jumped right in, not scared of anything....not even scared to do whatever the heck she wants.

Every day she asks, "It is Wednesday? On Wednesday, I go to ballet school." She is thrilled when the answer is yes, and cries out with ,"but I WANT ballet" on the other six days of the week.

She comes home and shows off her arabesques and plies and dances around with a very serious solemn face.

Jaxon can often be heard "coaching" her. "One, two, three,,," he says, "da da dum dum dum..." he sings....

Angelina Ballerina is her favorite show, and favorite friend. She always wants me to get books about ballet from the library.

"Mom, watch this." she says

I'm watching. Always watching and my heart leaps.

A very special mega Thank You to our wonderful team of supportive grandparents and great-grandparents who made my wish and Penelope's dream come true.

Love.

2011-03-09T08:16:00.003-05:00

There are some days that start out with a Jaxon/Penelope whine/fight/battle/scream/cry and by 8 o'clock my voice is already hoarse from yelling and I'm wondering why in the world I had all these babies in the first place, and the end of the day seems so far away, and the idea of putting a kid or two on ebay sounds really appealing, it's all I can do to fall on my knees and pray to God to get me through, get us through in one piece. And then, like every day, the sun sets, the day is done, the kids are in bed sleeping soundly, and all is right with the world. And watching them sleep, I remember why I had all these kids in the first place, and even the kids on ebay idea goes back into the realm of ridiculousness where it belongs.

And then there are the day that Calm reigns supreme, the kids pause in play to exchange hugs, "i love you"s flow, imaginations take off (would be believe we went to space twice this week and had moon cheese picnics? and we brought back a little alien baby!) and I tell them to do something and instead of wailing and gnashing of teeth I hear little, sweet "Yes, Ma'am!!"s, and we have nice resting quiet times and read the adventures of Pooh on cold rainy days and this having kids thing is so. much. fun. In fact, today, as we were pulling out of Jaxon's preschool, Penelope said to me, "I miss Jaxon, he is my king."

My beauties. My impeccable beauties. They catapult me back to childhood. We run around, we play, we make chalk outlines (which makes the front of our house and the park look like a scene of a serious homicide investigation), and the hugs are strong, and long, and a plenty.

All of which makes me believe that it can't possibly get any better.

And that's a good feeling.

Bloomin'

2011-03-03T08:49:00.005-05:00

I thought I might have jinxed myself when, the other day, after a series of delightfully warm days, I went a head and put the snow pants back up in the attic. I figured surely we were past the point of snow return, but no sooner had I left the confines of the disaster which is our attic, the sunshine left and was replaced with the dullness of cold, grey rain, not to mention some killer wind that blew open a window and triggered the burglar alarm and four the morning when Rick was doing an all nighter at the hospital.

Luckily, somehow I broke the jinx, and spring has decided to come anyway. I knew it was finally here when my girls and I went over to the grocery store and lo and behold, the return of the plastic, brightly colored Adirondack chairs!

They are a mixture of hideous and hilarious but one thing is for sure, they mean spring is here. Last year we played it safe and got white, but now I'm kind of wishing we went a little bolder....maybe a little lime? or fushia?

Yesterday I stocked up on sidewalk chalk, and today we busted it out.

(And see that "stop" sign? Jaxon put that there for "the bad guys", because you know bad guys always pay attention to the rules.)

We took a walk and found all the things we could that were blooming.

Yup, my spring trench is bloomin

so is this pretty little dandy

tulips, maybe?

little white flower (clearly, I'm no green thumb)

lil' purps

greeny

and this little dude is a Valentine's day leftover. Jaxon saw "a sad little flower" in the dying bouquet bunch and decided to plant it outside and water it. So I tossed the sad little flower and in it's place put a happy little flower so Jaxon could feel like he made the sad little flower happy again. But then the happy little flower turned into this mess...

I can add a few more things to that "bloomin" list.

Thing 1:

Jaxon

I feel as thought we are on the other side of the storms. He's left is seven-a-day melt down ways, and OCD need for complete repetition of minute details, and is becoming quite the little charmer. He's sensitive side is coming more into play with who he is...and now it's the norm, not the exception, when he's super sweet.

Sometimes I wake to the sound of him softly singing to his baby sister in the morning...and when he decides that she is more than he can handle, he quietly comes to the edge of my bed, kisses my cheek and tells me, "Mom, you have to get the baby now. She's hungry." And last night, he insisted on singing her two lullubys all by himself. Precious.

He's really becoming a helper as well. He wants to make then beds, even mine, he is able to actually help with the laundry and even though he makes tiny contributions here and there, he is like having a second set of hands and feet. Better yet, he is so darn proud of himself when he gets something done. It's a win win.

Thing 2:

Penelope

Amazingly, she's chilling out. I don't know whether we were all just suffering from a mad case of cabin fever, or maybe it's just something about spring and she's turning over a new leaf.

She is embracing three with no holds barred. (I don't even know what that means, or if I got the words right, but it just seems like the right time to through something like that in there....) She's still fiercely uninhibited...she even completed her first Shannon Miller flip over the bar routine on the playground.
She's blooming too.

She smiles...a LOT. She won't always let me take a picture of her, but she seems like a happy kid instead of the previously sour outlook she's been holding onto for a while.

She's dressing herself and I can even say to her, "Go get ready for bed" and she can take a bath and put her jammies on completely unassisted. Three is good.

She is good, and lately, she's take to cuddling and hugging, which she usually only saves for right before she's going to wretch....usually all over her Mama. In any case, she's blooming. She's becoming more and more a girl, though she still holds on to some baby tendencies; and there are those times that I look at her, or see her doing something amazing and I'm just so darn proud of her, and I think "I can't believe she's mine."

Lubird

She's taking off. Laughing like crazy, speed crawling, cruising around, pulling off socks and shoes with a mad furry, waves those mini-hulk arms around when she wants something or doesn't want something, and I really need to clean the stairs because she taking them on (and they are covered with slippery little dust bunnies.)

Hard to believe in just a few short weeks, my baby will be a year old. A YEAR!! It can't be happening. It's gone too fast. I really don't know what I would have done without her. This past year was hard. Not in a tragic sort of way, but just in the way that 2-4 year olds can through you some curve balls....and when they do, they're coming two at a time so you're bound to get smacked in the face...and the back of the head...at the same time. My Lubird was often my calm in the storm, my breath of fresh air, my reminder of why I keep having babies in the first place. She continues to be the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and I wish she would stay her happy fat little baby self forever. I love feeling the weight of her in my arms, on my chest, I love how she pats me on the back when she hugs me, I love the sound of her giggle. She is just....well, there are no words good enough.....even perfection doesn't do her justice.

Enough.

2011-03-01T20:35:00.001-05:00

Three thirty broke the early morning silence with terrifies cries coming from Penelope's room. By know I can hear the difference between normal sleep sounds and actual terror; and this was real terror. I wasted no time, bumped into a few walls and pieces of furniture along the way, but I got there and I slipped into bed next to her and held her tight.
Her eyes still shut, cheeks wet with tears, between sobs she managed to squeak out,

"You....say....byebye......to.......me.....You....naughty.......Mommy,.......you.....say.......byebye......and.......I.......stay........here!!"

Ouch.

I think I heard the sound of my heart crack. Poor baby, she had a nightmare that I left her. I'm still trying to shake the feeling that somehow I'm responsible.

"I'm sure I was just going to the store. I'm always going to the store."

That did it. Calm. The tension in her body left. She softened up in my arms, her hyperventilating breathes slowed down those uncontrollable choky things that come only after a really good cry began to space themselves out and within minutes she was back in slumber land.

And in that moment I felt the "power of mom". A word, a touch, a snuggle, and all is right with the world again. Those powerful moments aren't just the ones that appear at an ungodly three in the morning, but those moments are every single second of time spent with my children. Every interaction does indeed have the power to make or break a part of their spirit. And it's so easy to do what's easy: to loose it, to yell and scream, to make a fuss to become flustered, impatient and ugly, but if I let that happen, then I'll also loose the ability to be the person they look to in the night when they're frightened, and not only that, I'll loose the ability to be the person that they look to in five or ten years when they're frightened.

A friend recently said to me, "You grow up thinking that you'll always be too good to be a stay at home mom, and then you become one and you realize, that you'll never be good enough."

But hey, we can try.

Magical Mystery Muffin

2011-02-24T20:27:00.004-05:00

I've noticed lately that my pants are little more fitted than they were last week. My jeans seem to constantly have that "just got out of the dryer" feel;

Aprons by DwellStudio

and today as I slathered butter on my fourth, yes fourth, just-taken-out-of-the-oven blueberry muffin, and crammed it into my mouth,

I realized that the muffins would be even better if I had used fresh blueberries. I compared them with the muffins the kids and I baked the other day,

and I remembered how delicious those cinnamon streusels were and promised Jaxon I would go back to the store and get more of those....he wants five boxes. (Yes, I bake from a box.)

Then, like at the end of a Scooby-Doo mystery, where the pieces all come together at the end, I slowly began to understand the unusual snugness of my jeans as of late.

I remembered tossing out an empty box of Twinkies....

and before that, it was an empty box of girl scout cookies.....

and before that, it was another empty box of girl scout cookes..... and Penelope had about three different birthday celebrations and various cakes and treats, oh and then there was Valentine's Day as well.

And if it weren't for those meddling Girl Scouts.....

Tuckins

2011-02-23T20:15:00.004-05:00

One of the sweetest of my childhood memories is the way Dad would give us a "Proper Tucking In" at the end of each day. For some reason, maybe because of the usage of the word "proper" I had it in my head that that's how they do it in London.
The tucking in consisted of a pillow fluff, a nice straightening of the quilts then he would scooch the blankets tightly between our bodies and the beds so that we were like giant cocoons, but it wasn't complete until he perfected his Navy corners.

After the bedtime rituals, the baths, the brushings, the books, I tuck each of them in, in their own special way. Jaxon likes the say the Lord's Prayer, followed by "Amen", followed by "ABC", and "Twinkle Twinkle" and "Itsy Bitsy Spider". Recently he's been adding a little game that he calls Let's-Learn-About-Animals-that-start-with-A. So he says "Alligator" and I say "Ape" and we work our way through the alphabet...and I love when we get to 'Q', because he says, "Quetzal", and 'N' because he says Narwhal.
Penelope goes to bed with a Lambie, blankie, Angelina Ballerina, Princess Baby, and she's now added a clock to that list. Yes, a clock. A clock that when it falls during the night makes a bump so loud it sounds like the floor might actually cave in.
And then there's the Lubird. Our night time cuddles are swift but sweet and there's always a little part of me that gets sad when I put her in bed for the night because I know I won't see her for the next 12 hours, and I miss her.
I just cuddle her, wrap her up in her favorite blanket, pop a paci in her mouth, and smooch the life out of her fat little cheeks, and she snuggles down in her bed and is oh, so happy to be there. Her little lids flutter and I can see the upturned corners of her mouth hiding behind her paci.

So precious and so sweet are these moments, I usually have to creep back in for more. Usually around midnight or so, before I fall into my own bed, I can't help but do another round of tuckins.
I return Jaxon's sprawled limbs to his body, I kiss Lulu's furry little head, and I reposition Penelope to the center, not the edge of her bed as she usually gets run out by all the company she keeps with her.

It's easily one of my favorite moments, every single day. Their sweetness and innocence is in full bloom as sleep quiets all their sounds of discontent. Although they are just recharging for a full day of work for tomorrow and the clock is ticking on the beautiful sound of silence, I am completely overwhelmed at their immaculate beauty and perfection. And in the darkness, I see them breathe, I watch them sleep, I kiss little foreheads and I can't help but feel so much love, and so much thankfulness to Him from whom all blessings flow.

Prayers of Mercy

2011-02-22T22:59:00.005-05:00

It had been a normal day. We did normal things.
And as I settled into my evening, after a delightful and very over due hot bath, I got this text:

Mercy just met Jesus.....

I shut my computer, tiptoed into my baby's room, picked her up and held her tight. Her sleepy eyes fluttered open and she looked at me like "why are you waking me up?" and then dropped her heavy head back onto my chest and didn't think any more of it. Then a small arm waved at me from Jaxon's bed and I realized he wasn't asleep. I carried my twenty pound bundle over to his bed and crawled in. And we snuggled. Lucy waking a bit, adjusting her eyes, smiling at me and then at her brother. I held them both tight and cried....and they laughed at each other, and Lucy tried to steal Jaxon's Sheepy. And they had no idea, but my ears were filling with tears as I tried to imagine what it would be like to lose one of them, and I can't even visit that place in my mind because the pain is just too great and too real. And that damn shadow of death seems to be forever lingering just around the corner, in someone else's home, or just a degree away, always too close.

Today was supposed to be Mercy's birthday. And it was. Today, she was born into glory. She is whole, she is well, she is perfect and she is in the perfect place. She is in the arms of Jesus, who, was also taken from his earthly parents. And I'm pretty darn sure, there is a woman up there by the name of Grama, who never got to hold any of her 5 great grand children, who will be more than happy to do a little cuddling from now until....well, until the time that Mercy will be reunited with her Mommy.

Praying for comfort for Mercy's family tonight.

Our Spot

2011-02-19T22:30:00.003-05:00

I've been to lots of parks in my mom-lifetime. Some are good, some are not so good, but this one kicks all the other parks' rumps...and then some. If they could, all the other parks would cry, "Uncle!" (Not that even people say that any more, but I've always wanted to use it in a sentence.)

They remind me of Hansel and Gretel frolicking in the forest. Yes, they frolic....

under these mountains.......

and play on this playground. Is that a picturesque mini lake in the background?

Heck yes it is.

This place rocks. So do her rock climbing skills.

Jaxon is really really into love. "What shape is this? What shape is this?"

And this is what two kids rolling down a hill together looks like.

Little Lulubooboo watches...

as they get a little braver...

and have a little more fun...

before returning home.
"Let's stay close, Penelope."

I Heart Valentine's Day

2011-02-19T08:17:00.004-05:00

Of course every single blog I've visited in the past few days have all been about fabulous Valentine's Days leaving me feeling very behind in my posting.
Because of the absolute infusion of pink, hearts and every thing sweet and beautiful, I have always been a sucker for V-day....and even more so now because I have the sweetest little Valentine's ever....and what better a thing to celebrate than love?

Daisies from my Valentine...

Cookies from Nana....

Even my phone got dressed for the occasion...

A heavenly smattering of Valentine's from everyone...Gramps, Nana, Mimi, Papa, Grampa Great and Liz and Aunt Boo, the mailbox was absolutely full!

My handsome little Valentine....

“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” ~Mother Teresa

Contentment Continued

2011-02-16T23:45:00.004-05:00

In my quest for contentment, I've tackled the places in my home that have caused me discontentment. Instead of wanting more space in the kitchen, I've tried to make better use of the space I already have....which also doubled as a really fun "matching" game on a rainy afternoon.

Instead of trying to camouflage the fact that children actually do live in the house, I've embraced the fact that my living room looks like the display floor of Babies R Us...

and that I need a "stroller parking" sign for my foyer

And I think I've mentioned this before, how I was never

ever

ever

going to be one of those moms with tacky kid art all over the place. I love my kid art. I have BOXES of kid art.

Instead of cleaning up, I like to think of it as "expression" and "growth"

and I love that my lamp shade is a custom creation by the one and only Jaxon with an "X", and I have upholstery that matches.

Someday, it'll be worth millions, but I'll never sell.

Because I know that what matters is not the spaciousness of the kitchen, but what's in the kitchen's spaces

and it's not whether your table is round or square that matters, but it's who is around the table that matters.

Contentment is not complacency but rather making the most of what we have and not wishing for another set of circumstances; it's not being bothered or irritated by the little things, the ones we can't control, or maybe we can but are choosing to just let them go.

Snowygreen

2011-02-13T21:05:00.002-05:00

There are about a million reasons why I love our perfect little spot on the globe, and one of them is that just down the road and to the left is a beautiful little spot Jaxon likes to call "Snowygreen". The real name is Wintergreen and we went for the first time just last week.

He reconnected with the sloaps....

and with family...

And this thing right here was completely amazing, ride up and then slide down...

and even Little Lubird got in on the action....

and Nicholas thought it was pretty cool, too.

And of course, we love us a little self portrait action.

Happy Saturday!

The Word is Out

2011-02-07T23:02:00.002-05:00

We have a princess in the house.

And she just turned three.

Birthday girl sleeps with her ballet slippers on. Precious.

She ripped open her presents with the same passion she's been proclaiming for the last three years...

and she stole my heart all over again.

I knew it would happen. When I held her tiny body in my arms for the very first time, I told myself savor, soak it up, every breath, every sight, every sound, it will go by all too fast

Again, I'm right. It's going by way too fast. She's three. THREE. And she's saying things like
"Oh that's an idea" or "Oh that's cute" when we put together outfits for school. Today, she said "that's not fair!", I can't remember what it was about, but she was very adamant about whatever it was.
My very favorite thing she says, usually comes at the end of the day, when she wraps her skinny little arms around my neck, and presses her face into mine as far as she can, and she says "You're my BEST friend, ever ever!"

And even though it's her birthday, I'm the one who has gotten the real gift. It's her.

return to blogsphere

2011-01-30T15:12:00.003-05:00

So, I've been busy.

I'll give you three good reasons why-

Here are two of them.....

pretty good reasons, don't you think?

and here's the third...

these cheeks beg me to kiss them....every day...as much as I can...
and then her chins chime in...all of them...I hear a chorus saying "kiss me! kiss me!" and what's a mother to do? so i oblige...gladly

We've been getting back into the groove from hangin' out with cousins in florida.

This mama tucked another year into her belt, or bag, or whatever. Yeah, I'm older and still wondering when the "wiser" side of the "older and wiser" bit is going to kick in. Any minute now I suppose, and I'm waitin'.

And we hung out here:

and baby lu bird had her first taste of real florida beach...

and jaxon was finally able to play in the waves which he's been asking to do since Septmeber ... ('mamber? the beach house? and nana? and we made a castle? do you 'mamber?)

and the sun set just for our heidi girl

i had ice cream every day from here

de.li.cious

and i finally got a picture of all three kids together

and my penelope danced on the sand, like her old mother once did (is she ready for ballet or what??)

and i guess there were some big ticket lottery winners earlier this month, but guess what? no one can ever win this lot

am i the luckiest girl in the world or what? i think so. this is what i signed up for when i said "yes". (actually i said, "dude, you had better be freakin'serious..." but that's another story)

point is, i'm 31, and i think i've got a heck of a lot to show for it

my kids are crazy, and they are crazy about each other, i love it

on our way home, we stayed in a hotel and picniced while watching planes and monorails zoom around on the ground below....a 4 year old boy's dream

...and now i must end this post, someone is begging for me to kiss her cheeks.

(can you find the baby in this picture?)

The Resolutions

2011-01-06T06:57:00.003-05:00

There aren't any.

I stopped making them a long time ago because come March, the long list of things I never did haunts me to no end, making me feel like a complete and utter failure. So, I chucked the idea. And instead, came up with this...

Be. Content.

I'm going to be content with my house, my humanity, the mother I am, the person I am, the woman I am, knowing that I'm trying my darndest and that's all I can do. This doesn't mean stop improving, it just means liking me and my situation, right here, in the now, and not wishing that I was something more, something better, something that doesn't even really exist.

It means concentrating less on things I want to accomplish and more on what HE wants me accomplish, which is only one thing: the impossible task of demonstrating for my children the grace and truth and love of Jesus Christ. And if it were left to me and me alone, my children would be in grave spiritual danger because I simply cannot do it. I am short tempered, impatient, quick to anger, slow to forgive and slow to compassion. Thankfully, I am not my own, but I can rely on the strength only God can provide.

Team Maclaren #3 & #4

2011-01-04T20:15:00.003-05:00

The Maclaren kid tester experiment is still going strong. The fleet of mini Maclarens in our hallway/kitchen/living room is nearly running me out of the house....I've contemplated buying a "stroller parking" sign for the living room.

They still love 'em. Today, whilst loading up the kids in the swagger wagon, I turn around only to find Jax and Penelope coming out of the house, strollers in tow, wanting to load them up in the car.

They've also invented a new game called "bumper strollers". The game is in the name...and surprisingly, there have been zero casualties....yet.

By far, their most favorite thing to do is play "Mommy and Daddy" which is the most important game of all.

They have loved every minute spent playing with these toys, even the baby is getting in on it, and I'm sure the toys will continue to be a part of our daily pretend play. Highly, highly recommended.

On the other side.

2010-12-28T20:56:00.001-05:00

This side of Christmas is always hard to put into words. I'm slowly coming down off this pine scented high, trying to get back into our own groove, but also simmering in the week of beautiful chaos. It was the first time the Terhune sibs have been under one roof in a number of years and now we have multiplied and it was noisy and crowded and there was a great number of runny noses, and fights over preferred sippy cup colors, and spills but there was also plenty of love and coffee to go around.

I think the week was summed up best by our little cousin Jimmy, when he said, "Family Rocks". Yes, it does.

Addicted to Lu

2010-12-16T21:02:00.004-05:00

You know that feeling you get when you thrust your hand into an old pair of jeans you haven't worn in months, and you pull out a twenty? Or the one when you turn in your last final before Christmas break and walk out the door? Or the one when you finally find that missing earring to your favorite pair? Or when you try on a pair of pants that look small on the hanger only find out that they are too big?

That's her, Baby.

She's my little ball of feel good...

my little cup-o-Christmas cheer..

a shot in the arm...

and I have to admit, I'm an addict.

Team Maclaren #2

2010-12-15T09:27:00.002-05:00

It's been about a week since the arrival of the Mac toys. Although SOME of the novelty has worn off since the first day, they stay on the top of the kids "to do" list. The travel cot moves from the hallway, to beside Penelope's bed, back to the hallway, to somewhere in Jaxon's room, upstairs and downstairs. In just a few days, it has lodged many a sleeping baby.

The stroller is the new favorite stroller and has been the subject of many sharing lessons. The kids love it because it is exactly the right size and they can lock and unlock with buckle all by themselves. I love it because it is an exact replica of the real strollers....made with the same quality right down to the foam grips on the handles. This stroller is built to endure childhood....not just a few months.

Jaxon's favorite thing about the toys is the boyish theme on the fabric. He went on and on about the sail boats, sea creatures, and race cars. I am glad to see that Maclaren is including little boys in parental role playing games. Being a parent is not just a "girl" thing, it's a team thing and little boys need just as much practice and encouragement as little girls do. And let me tell you, to watch Jaxon imitating a loving father is a very beautiful thing.

So far, these are A+ toys and will be logging many hours of high energy use. Highly recommended.

Extreme Makeover: Gingerbread Edition

2010-12-15T07:59:00.002-05:00

We've taken the Gingerbread house from "the projects" to "Hansel and Grettel" style.

The extreme cold has kept us inside and yesterday we were running out of things to keep us occupied; so remembering our poor little excuse for a house, I bundled the kids up and went across the street to the store to stock up on all things gingerbread. I let them pick out candy from the candy aisle and I grabbed a few tubes of ready made frosting.

A few cups of hot chocolate and an hour later and voila.....pretty stinkin' cute.

Gingerbread Projects

2010-12-12T12:57:00.006-05:00

It has become tradition.
I'm no baker, but I do a really great credit card swipe to buy a pretty mean gingerbread kit.

It usually sits on the counter for a couple of days while I muster up the courage to ply open the packaging and figure out how the heck to put it together.

I'm getting the hang of it though. It's become a two part process.
Day 1: I put up the frame while the kids decorate the roof pieces

Day 2: After spending the night in the freezer, we slather as much gooey icing on the house as it can handle and we slap on the roof and hold it and pray that it'll stick before it falls completely apart.

The house pretty much looks like crap, but the kids are happy, they have fun, and hopefully in another 20 years or so, they will say to their kids "We made gingerbread houses from scratch every year with our Mom, and it was so fun. The scent of gingerbread wafted through our home and we helped roll out the dough...."

...well, there's hoping.

Team Maclaren

2010-12-09T08:31:00.004-05:00

People who regularly spend time around me know that I'm a little crazy about two things: Maclaren and Baby Bjorn.

My obsession with Maclaren began when a short friend of mine said of her Mac stroller, "I like it but it's too tall for me." !?!?!?! Back up. TOO TALL??

At 5'11'', a "too tall stroller" was not something that had ever posed a problem for me.

I bought a Maclaren Triumph immediately, and fell in love. It handles beautifully, can open and close with one hand, it is light, durable (seriously durable, I actually ran it over with my minivan and it's still perfect) and most importantly, I don't have to bend over even the slightest degree when I push it.

So at about 15 months, when Jaxon took a real interest in stroller pushing, I decided to get him a play stroller for his birthday. After coming up empty handed in an impossible search for a non-pink toy stroller, his Dad came home and handed me a box with a little blue Maclaren stroller inside. Perfect. Two years later, he still loves it, his sister loves it and it's still rolling strong.

Jaxon and Penelope were chosen to test the Maclaren Junior Quest Activity Centre . So today, we had sort of a pre-Christmas surprise.

Both kids were absolutely ecstatic. No matter what your age, a new stroller is always exciting.

Jaxon was especially excited about the travel crib....he has a plethora of babies and has been needing a place for them to all sleep. He has been using old boxes, but now, his babies can sleep in style.

Penelope loved the baby rocker....and so did "Rilla". She's been sitting comfortably for hours.

Even Baby Lucy got excited about the new toys! I won't be surprised if she ends up in most of them.

The matching bag is the perfect size for Penelope and Jaxon, the only trouble is that there is just one....and two kids. I'm looking forward to lots of lessons on sharing.

And this is Penelope's favorite thing in the world....pushing babies and carrying bags, just like Mommy.

'Tis the Season

2010-12-01T08:47:00.002-05:00

Today I enjoy the quiet.

I am listening to Charlie Brown Christmas music, and to the humdrum of my second pot of coffee brewing and I am looking forward to drinking it as soon as I pour it, not twenty minutes later.

My little bird plays undisturbed with her brother and sisters toys; and I debate whether to do some much needed cleaning and catching up, or to do some much needed relaxing. A hot steamy bath sounds delightful today when it is cold and rainy outside...we shall see what happens.

For any wondering minds, my thanksgiving wasn't a total bust. In fact, it was much the opposite. It's a good thing that the spirit of Holidays resides in the gathering of family members and is not limited to exact dates.

This past weekend, we gathered,

we feasted,

we hugged and kissed on babies,

and we helped this beautiful Mama turn a little older and a little wiser.

Now that I feel like I have had a successful Thanksgiving, I can fully concentrate on Christmas prep.

'Tis the season for many a stripped jammied bottom, and by the way, look who is standing up!

I Love Lucy

2010-11-30T12:36:00.003-05:00

There are certain things that are so universal to the motherhood experience but yet each child, each relationship, each love is so very, very uniquely different so that no matter how many children one might have, it never gets old.

I remember as a little girl asking my mother, "Do you really love all of us the same?" and she would reply, "No, I love you all the same amount, but I love you all differently." That concept is one that I never understood, until I, myself became a mother and finally knew what she meant.

Every baby teaches me something different, gives me new perspectives, new ideas, new inspirations, and new understandings of life and love, perseverance and patience and a deeper knowledge of my mission in this world.

Until you become a mother and experience very different loves for very different children, there is no way to fully understand this. When you are a child, you love your parents only as a child can, and you see them only as authority figures. But if you are lucky, like me, one day that relationship changes and your parents are no longer authority figures alone, but trusted advisers, confidants, and friends.

I guess this is all pointing to Lucy. She is totally and completely different from the other two; she has reached down and touched a deep part of my soul that I didn't even know existed and I love her in such a completely unique way I can't give it the proper words.

I just know, that with Jaxon, and then again with Penelope, the moment I saw them I was overcome with so much emotion and love it was as though something inside my heart literally burst apart and I could not physically handle how much love I was feeling.

When I saw Lucy, for whatever the reason, whether it was that I was expecting a baby boy, or the lack of fanfare that surrounded her birth, I was still. There was no emotional burst, no popping heart, nothing. I almost felt disconnected in a way. Did I know I loved her? Of course, but I didn't have the physical feelings that went with it.

But slowly, from the first moments until now, our souls have wound together so tightly that we have this perfect incredible meshing of spirits. I catch her eye from across the room and her face lights up and her eyes dance and sparkle like the rays of the sun dance on the water, I pick her up in the morning and she erupts into fits of this funny hyperventilating breathing and delightful squeals that say "I LOVE YOU!" and I'll bring her into my bed and she peaks out at me with her big blue eyes and then at night she curls into my neck like a little fuzzy kitten and with all her might burrows her little face into the crook of my neck; and when I'm capping her off before she's asleep for the night she nurses so frantically and beats her little fist into chest uncontrollably as if she just doesn't know what to do with that arm, and she fights sleep and I watch as her eye lids bob up and down and up and down before sleep finally takes over and her lids finally fall shut; she is everything perfectly splendid. She is sugar and spice. Her head is soft and fuzzy like the down of duckling and her skin in satiny, velvety soft, the way she nestles is so scrumptious and cozy. She is baby perfection and if I were Handel, she would be my Hallelujah chorus.

More Thanks

2010-11-25T21:00:00.003-05:00

I learned a few things today.

1) I can make a killer quiche.

2) My kids don't like quiche.

3) I learned that holidays are meant to be spent with family; LOTS of family. I knew that already, but as I sat at my table today with Jaxon and Penelope, a sleeping baby upstairs, watching other neighbors' families go into other neighbors houses, knowing that somewhere far far away all my family was celebrating with one another, suddenly the quiet that I so often long for, was piercing.

4) I learned that three is not enough.

5) On the way home from our Thanksgiving hour with Daddy, and having Thanksgiving dinner at the only open deli in town, I drove past a row of shops and in the window, there was a sign that read, "You Will Miss These Days".
These days. As in yesterday, today and tomorrow; as in the monotony, as in the early mornings, the kids coming into my bed one at a time to snuggle, the eyes that peak up at me when I'm nursing, the coos, the snuggles, the "i love you"s, the story times, and the night time tuck-ins. I realized that I don't ever want to be in a time that I will miss these days, these wonderful, beautifully constructed days of single wonderful moments that sometimes make me crazy. I don't want to leave this time we are in. I don't want to look back. I want to stay.

Because the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is only this good when you are little

and because a glass of juice can only make a girl smile this big when when you are little

and because I really could kiss these cheeks all day, every day. Seriously, if I had nothing else to do, I would. She is absolutely scrumptious deliciousness.

and because when they are big, we won't all be able to fit on the same couch, and lounge around in our jammies all day long. We have so much to be thankful for.

Like a Child

2010-11-24T23:09:00.002-05:00

I love listening to my children pray. Their words are so simple and it is in that simplicity that I learn how to pray.

When I listen to Penelope, I hear nothing but thanksgiving. There is no adoration, no confession, no supplication only thanksgiving.

"Fank you for Mommy and fank you for Daddy and fank you for Jaxon and Baby Lucy and fank you for Nana and Ramps and fank you for Great Nanny and Great Papa, and Fank you for Papa and Mimi and fank you for Miss Pam and Miss Betty and fank you for my bed and fank you for my Lambie and my Little Baby and (then she gets her pointer finger out) fank you for that and fank you for that and that and that and fank you for......................... blessings. Amen"

I only hope that I can continue to cultivate her thankful little heart; that she will not only be thankful for what she can see, but that she will learn to be thankful for what she can't see as well. I hope these precious little prayers at the end of the day will one day grow and develop into deeply rooted relationship with God himself and that no matter what, in each and every one of her circumstances, she will remain thankful always.

Jaxon prays in the future-past tense. He thanks God for things which he has not yet done. He is exactly what the Bible was talking about when it says "faith like a child".
He will say something like, "Thank you that we obey, thank you that I will not be mean to my sisters, thank you that when we get sick we can rest, thank you that I will listen to my mommy and thank you that we will have a good day tomorrow..."

It is so easy for him to believe, and he doesn't just believe he trusts with everything in his heart. How else could he thank God for things which he has yet to do? His words are precious and beautiful and I hope his faith will always be so great and someday maybe mine will be, too.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Vote for Penelope!

2010-11-23T22:53:00.003-05:00

Ok, ok I admit, I am getting a bit carried away with this Fancy Nancy thing. I guess it's just my competitive edge kicking into overdrive. I don't mind losing. Really. I don't mind it....as long as the person who beat me deserves it. Example: back in 1998 I placed third in the 300m hurdles because I was saving energy for the next race I had to run. So getting third, didn't bother me. 1st and 2nd ran their little hearts out and they deserved to win. However, in 1997, I hit the 3rd and 7th hurdles and placed 2nd, which should never have happened. I was better than the girl who won. I knew it. She knew it. The whole world knew it but I blew it and that race bothered me for weeks. Heck, it still bothers me. She wasn't a fraction of the athlete....anyway...

Anyway, all this to say, that if little girls numbers #1 through #244 were as adorable and as cute as Penelope, then they should beat her. Sadly, that is just not the case. (Especially the girl in both 1st and 2nd spots!! COME ON!!!! The pumpkins are cuter!!)

So, please, please, pretty please, vote for my fancy girl who love, love, loves "Fancy Fancy" and let's try to get in the top 20. GO TEAM PENELOPE!

to vote, click on the badge at the right, or click here

BIG THANKS!

Shutterfly Is Here....

2010-11-22T20:37:00.005-05:00

Gone are the days of awkward family snapshots shoved into red or green envelopes to be passed off as Christmas cards. The digital age has ushered in a new era of digital Christmas cheer which any person, provided they have one working finger, can click into existence. Shutterfly has been helping me effortlessly create beautiful Christmas cards for years and this year will be no different. The best part is that there are no trips to the photographer, there are no trips to the printers; I just click, click, click my way to beautiful, quality cards that are then sent straight to my door. The hardest part now is picking out just one design....of course, getting one decent picture of all three kids remains to be a challenge.

Cards aren't the only thing that can be made with little to no effort. Shutterfly offers an incredible array of photo inspired gifts. My favorite? (*wink, wink, nudge, nudge*) are these beautiful pewter ornaments. Every year since Jaxon was born, I have put a picture of each kid on the tree and it makes for an incredibly beautiful tree and wonderful keepsakes for years to come.

The Farm

2010-11-17T23:37:00.004-05:00

The kids and I got back from an amazing family get together last week and I am still coming down off that high as we settle back into our everydayness. It's hard to get back into our comfortable way of doing things but the contrast of "different" is so worth it.

We took all the cousins back to one of the most amazing places on earth...The Farm. And they don't know it yet, but it is much a part of who they are. It is our family source, our starting point and the family dream is that one day we will have large family gatherings in a big beautiful farm house, we will feast around a thick plank table and the floor will be littered with babies, and tots, and handmade quilts. There will be a roaring fire in a huge stone fire place where a magnificent buck will look down from his place on the wall above the mantel, and the children will take turns being lifted up to touch him. And there will be a chorus of clinking and clanking of silver wear and a never ending humdrum of the coffee maker, and the scent of mom's pies will waft through the entire house. And every so often a babe will cry and there will be a rush of aunts and uncles to fetch it and grandparents arms will automatically stretch out for a not-so-quick snuggle.

But that is all yet to come....in the mean time we have this...

And She's Off...

2010-11-05T12:04:00.003-05:00

I wouldn't call myself a real "photographer". At best, I'm a dabbler with a fantastic camera (Nikon D500, i LOVE LOVE LOVE it) who occasionally gets a good shot. For every good shot, there are 1000 bad ones. And yes, I take 1000's of pictures.

But every once in a while, the universe will be kind, the stars and the planets align just right giving me the perfect lighting, the perfect camera settings (don't ask me how) and the perfect baby disposition, allowing me to get two, three, even four beautiful shots. Ok, so the soup boiled over, and dinner was minimal, but it was worth it.

Weekending

2010-10-25T23:02:00.002-05:00

The weekend started chilly, but luckily, we have beautiful handmade hats from Aunt Boo..

Papa and Mimi came up for a visit....just in time to see Team Colquitt finish out the soccer season....

and we headed up the mountain to collect the most perfect fall's delicacies...

and we walked among the pumpkins

and chowed down, seriously chowed, on the world's best donuts. These babies are even delicious the next day after spending the night in the trunk of the van. Don't ask me how I know that...

And every day since October 1st, Jaxon asks, Is it Halloween yet?" We count the days, we make "ghostes", live in our costumes and await the magical moment and in the meantime the sounds of fierce tigers and fairy princesses can be heard far and wide across the clover lawn plains.

Six Months

2010-10-20T09:45:00.004-05:00

The six month mark came and went for our Little Baby Lu Bird. So fast. Only six more months until there is no more baby in the Colquitt household. Mama needs a baby. There's something debilitating, but oh so motherly about having a little nugget always half hanging out of the nook of my arm while I one handedly spin around the kitchen or chase the monkeys around the house. My spine now is slightly curved because of all the hours I've spent making my flat hips jut out just-so, creating the perfect perch for a little diapered bottom. My back has a constant golf ball sized knot in it from where the bjorn pulls slightly to the right; and there are days when I'm driving and I see a cop car and just for a split second I think how nice it would be if I were to speed, just a little, and he would come and arrest me and put me in solitary confinement so I could get some dang old peace and quite, and maybe take a nap. But I digress...

Baby, baby, baby. Even the word is enchanting. The awaiting, the arrival, the anticipation and then they come and go way too fast. I want my little to be that way, always. I want her to always fit in my nook, to always be strapped to me, to always look so gosh darn proud of herself when she gets up on all fours and rocks back and forth in that "ready set go" kind of way. Oh, Baby Lu, stay little always.

Now on the brink of her mobility, there are literally DAYS left of immobile babyhood. The countdown to takeoff has begun, and she will indeed, be taking off.

3,2,1

Check out these skies

2010-10-14T22:55:00.005-05:00

C-Ville skies have had me in total awe lately....

...and these kids are pretty neat, too.

Hello Again...

2010-10-14T08:44:00.005-05:00

Hello Little blog...
It's been a while. I've missed you.

I've been waiting for a calm in the storm to play catchup... and today's the day.

As I write, I've got two little busy bee's cutting and stickering, for today, we make Halloween decorations. It's a rainy fall day, one of those days which I usually dread because being stuck inside with a teething infant, a two year old who is going through displacement disorder (paci? she's got it, bottle? she's got it, and high chair?? she LOVES it) and a 4 year old superman is a surefire way to push me over the edge.

But not today. I will have the day, instead of the day having me. And we begin by putting on another pot of coffee and unleashing our creative energies.

Our to do list is long, and there's not one chore on it. It's going to be a great day.

Jaxon's first catch

2010-10-11T19:47:00.008-05:00

Lately, Jaxon has been really into fishing. He calls it "sneaking some fish," and it usually involves him in his tiger outfit prowling around the house, finding hidden imaginary ponds and gobbling up imaginary fish ferociously. We have been on a few actual fishing trips over the past year, and yesterday he decided he wanted to catch a real one. In the past, he has enjoyed carrying the gear, digging for worms and casting more than anything else and will usually hand the pole over to me to do the sitting and waiting part. Well last night, the Jax reached a big milestone when he cast, caught and reeled in this little beauty completely on his own. His face says it all.

Enough to make a Daddy proud =).

The Tent

2010-10-01T15:08:00.007-05:00

I'm not a camper.
I never have been.

I never really got into nature's latrine, or hiking, or blisters, or making bareminimal meals over an open fire while being choked and gagged by said fire's smoke. But I do like trail mix.

Still, hearing the "clang clang" of my hammer against the little metal steaks brought back a certain sense of nostalgia.

I can remember how the so-called simple act of pitching a kid sized tent sent Dad into fits of rage which brought fourth a symphony of profanity at which we would turn to Mom and ask, "What's a sonofabuckgoodfornuthingbleepbleepbleepitybleep"?

I am my father's daughter.

But I got the tent finished.

And I remembered how a tent is not just a tent, but a sort of magical mystery machine that once you entered into it, would transform into anything. A space ship, a submarine, a tree house, a cave or burrow; and the outside noises from which you were hidden could be anything.....today, they were monsters. We hid from them, they looked for us, and then we shot them down dead with our "shooter guns" and celebrated our victory with caramel squares-probably my favorite of fall's delights.

That tent will probably never make it past our picket fence, Lord knows I won't be schlepping my babies through the woods, but it doesn't matter because the inside is my boy's very own Narnia, and in it we can go anywhere.

A Taste of Sandbridge

2010-09-26T19:51:00.003-05:00

This is the way life was meant to be lived.
Mamas and Daddys, Grampas and Gramas, Aunts and Uncles and many, many cousins...
and of course, a beach house, the ocean, plenty of fresh coffee, wifi and the occasional dolphin sighting doesn't hurt, either.

Thanks, Mom and Dad for an incredible week. We had so much fun!

Penelope

2010-09-16T06:40:00.004-05:00

Last night, I was reminded again of how precious life is. Unfortunately, between time tables, and errands, the grocery store, laundry, meltdowns, tiffs, over-specific ridiculous requests and a mad amount of boo boos, the preciousness of life often gets lost in my shuffle.

But last night, I had a reminder.

I stumbled across this blog and saw a picture I could have sworn was Penelope. They both have those golden wispy curls, that cute little nose and that "something". I read and read and they have so many similarities, they even share a date: on Feb 5, 2008 Penelope was born, and exactly one year earlier, on Feb 5, Ava departed.

As I read her story last night, my heart broke, and I tried to imagine what it would be like to never wrap my arms around my precious daughter again, or to hear little voice, and the mere thought of that for one second was just too painful.

And I felt guilty for all the times I've treated her more like an imposition than precious gift.

And I am not normally an overly emotional or sappy person, but last night I was. I crept into her princess room in the middle of the night, and hugged my baby and kissed my baby, cried for the mother who could do this no more and I sat still by her bed and just listened to her heavy sleeping breathing. Breathing...means life.

And even though this girl is crazy, and she goes running down the street in panties and high heels, and even though she is demanding, and vocal and picky, and won't wear the cute shoes I bend over backwards trying to get her, and even though she has this horrible screech when she gets annoyed....I'll take her. I'll take my crazy Penelope over no Penelope any day of the week because a life without Penelope would be way too calm, way too easy, and not nearly as much fun.

Penelope, my super ultra pink princess superstar and beyond, I love you like you'll never ever know and I'm so loving being your mommy.

and today, just once, we will eat as many cookies as you want.

Firsts

2010-09-09T21:18:00.003-05:00

Wednesday was the first day of school. The morning didn't go smoothly like I had hoped, there was wailing and screeching and gnashing of teeth, but nothing that can't be smoothed over with a 5 minute mama bear hug. Somehow, hugs make every thing alright again. Somehow, they smooth out crazy morning wrinkles, bring smiles back to faces and enable us to hit "rewind" and start all over. Hugs. I heart hugs.

Still, we managed to be 15 minutes late to school.....but we car-danced to Fergi all the way there, so it was worth it. (And yes, I realize Fergi is probably not age appropriate BUT her SATC sound track does have some counting to 4, so I count it as educational....)

After drop off, (in which the kids barely said "bye mom" before running off to their class rooms) Lucy and I had our first ever playdate just for her.

Lucy met William and it was love at first sight. Then a bit of eye poking and biting, but all that means "true love" in baby.

And on the way there, I drove underneath an over pass with a train going across. As I prepared to say "Hey Look! A Train!! We are going under a TRAIN! Isn't that cool?" I realized that there was nobody in the car that would care about the train. And all of a sudden, I felt so sad.

Me and the kids, the kids and me, which every way you roll the dice we are so meshed and so melded together and intertwined that when we are apart, there is always that "just ripped off the band-aid" sort of sting. It doesn't last, and it's a good thing, but it's there. That sting. That feeling like a little part of me is missing will always be there when the kids are not.

But in the end it's good. Lucy needs good mama time, she needs her own friends, I need time to unwind, get some things done and three hours goes by pretty fast. The best part about being apart, is that eventually I get to go pick them up again and they are always happy to see me. (even though that look on jaxon's face clearly says otherwise)

and as an added bonus, I am always presented with fun art projects. This is "Brown Jaxon"

Changing of the Seasons

2010-09-07T06:59:00.004-05:00

Last night we slept with the windows open. The cool air gently crept in under the curtains and brought with it the scent of distant burning fires and thoughts of tiny Halloween creatures. I snuggled down in my beautifully plush Pinecone Hill bathrobe and fell asleep.

Yesterday was Labor Day, and we celebrated with doing absolutely nothing. We lazed around at home and played in the pool, had a tea party, picnic, naps, garden work, had a cookout and made S'Mores over the grill.....ok so we didn't so absolutely nothing; but we stayed at home with just the 5 of us and soaked up the next to the last day of summer.

Tomorrow, Jaxon and Penelope start school. As much as they love it, and as much I love to see them go, part of me is always a little sad because school means getting older. It means their world is widening, more people are becoming a part of it and that brings more opportunity for the unknown. And it's good, and they need it and I need it, but it's always a little bit hard to let go....and it feels like college drop off day is just around the corner, and I really should start saving now for all the retail therapy I'm going to be doing that day because I'm gonna be a mess.

Penelope walks her dogs while wearing her fancy shoes.

World's most beautiful baby

Is it just me, or is she spectacularly beautiful???

Yes, we are divet stomping.

Lucy in the sky...

...with Daddy

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