It finally found me.

My heart races with excitement when I see someone has left a nice comment on my blog. It makes me feel loved. I was just checking my email, and to my surprise I had a new comment. Yea!

It was spam for V?agra ...kinds I didn't even know existed. Scary kind of actually. I am bummed. If it happens again, I will have to make all of you nice people type in a code before you can leave a comment...but you still will, right? Because you know it makes me feel loved. :-)

Who's to Blame?

What you do when you are going to the bathroom and you are 7. And to make sure that you don't get blamed for it, you sign your brother's name. Works every time.

So, I'll brag a Little...

Ian and Evan at the Skate park

Anything that has wheels in our home goes with us to the skate park. I hold my breath and pray...and I pad. You may not see all the padding, but it is there. I wish I could figure out how to pad all their little bones.

Ian:

Ian is Ian. He is so much like his daddy. Most of the time he is right where he says he is going to be, doing exactly what he said he was going to do. He is also very bright. He thinks like his daddy also. You can see the wheels spinning all the time. I am always amazed at how much he remembers.

A couple of weeks ago, we did his beginning-of-the-year testing so we would have a benchmark for his learning this year.

Here are his scores:

Language Arts: 95%

Math: 99%

In one area of math he tested off the charts.

I have always been amazed at how much a child can learn when they have one-on-one attention or even four-on-one attention. I am so blessed to be able to teach him right now.

I am proud of my little cutie and just wanted to brag...just a little.

Today

I am in a funk.

I feel blaw.

I hate bad news. It steals my joy.

Rude, clueless people bug me. If I am like that, be my friend and tell me.

My ear hurts all the time.

I am afraid of the swine flu.

It hurts my feelings when people complain about what I cook for dinner.

Evan got stung on his head. Steve bought Benadryl. He didn't need it, thankfully.

I bought 150 canning jars. I am not sure if I feel excited or pressured by them.

I love the sun but it isn't helping. I hope it sticks around for me to get my act together.

I think I am anemic. I need a steak or something.

I am reading a very good book. This is my third time.

I need to clean my house.

I hate television and wish it would go away. It steals my family from me.

I really want Ian's curriculum to come so I don't have to think so much.

Evan likes my dark chocolate.

I felt paranoid in the makeup section at Freddies because I took my old lip gloss out of my purse to see what color it was and was afraid someone would think I was shoplifting if I put it back in my purse.

Amanda picked it up and threw it back in my purse. She is healthier than me today.

I am going to watch the second Lord of the Rings with Amanda and Steve....so I can be with them.

I love rice.

I do not like rice cooked in a crock pot.

I can't wait to give my little munchkin a bath and smell his clean little head.

Evan just got his first little-boy birthday invitation that is just for him and is right in my face telling me.

I can smell my chocolate on his breath.

I like that I know how to punctuate compound modifiers.

I don't like when I hear medical terms that I know when they apply to my family members.

I really love ice tea but I wonder if it adds to my feeling uptight.

My stress level is lowering a tad.

Thanks for listening...

Don't run the risk of forgetting today because you are focused on the big events in your life. Today is worth remembering.

I stink...

at Craig's List. I put stuff on Craig's List and then I cave in when they try to get something different out of me than what I posted it for. The truth is, I would give away my right arm if someone needed it. I just like to give, and how can you not give when you have been blessed by so many people in your life, even strangers?

So, I posted really cute preteen stuff from Amanda's room to try and make some money to buy some teen stuff for her room. I ended up with two warn-out boy shirts and another DVD...great, not a fair trade, but she truly looked like she would be blessed and her girls would be blessed by the stuff.

Let it go, Shellie. Truthfully, I wish I would have just given her the stuff. Why is that? Am I stubborn, am I the "fair" queen when it comes to this stuff. This is taking up my valuable brain cells, so I am going to wash one of the shirts, put the other in the goodwill box, and let Evan watch Ice Age, The Meltdown. Then I am going to do laundry with my dryer that my fabulous husband fixed for me, and I am going to try to figure out if posting to CL is worth the time and effort. One of my friends has fabulous results with CL. I think I will give her a call also.

Onward...

Mom, What's This?

It is a scary thing when your little boy walks up to you with a squished look on his face and says, "Mom, what's this." You look and he has something with wings, shriveled, and unidentifiable. Fortunately it is as small as a penny so you don't have to worry about rabies, but why would you pick something up that makes your face squished up? Why, Why, Why? That is the question.

Reminds me of my friends daughter who was doing a scavenger hunt and was suppose to find three feathers. She came back with a dead bird, and she was very proud of herself for finding her treasure. Ug. :-) Kids...Where's the hand sanitizer?

Home Sweet Home

Another soccer story, another Evan story. They seem to go well together these days.

Daddy takes the boys to soccer most of the time...I love that.

This was the conversation in the car after soccer practice tonight between daddy and Evan. They were driving to pick up Amanda at her soccer practice.

"OK, let's go get Mandie."

"I don't want to. I want to go home."

"What are we going to do? Just leave her there?"

"Yes, I want to go home."

"But we'll never see her again."

"OK, we'll get her tomorrow."

You put your right foot in, I mean left foot...

By far the cutest thing I have seen in a long time is five-year-old boys learning how to play soccer. Yesterday Evan dribbled the ball down the field through cones and kicked the ball right into the goal with very little trouble, using his right foot.

Then the coach decided it is never too young to learn to kick with your left foot. Evan dribbled the ball down the field just fine and then he stopped. He looked at his coach and pointed at his left foot. "This leg?" "Yep!" Then came an amazing thing, watching a little boy figure out how to use a part of his brain that he really had never used. I wish I could act it out for you or show you a video but of course I didn't get it. He had the parents laughing. He had the coach laughing. He had Amanda and I by the heartstrings. He turned and twisted his body trying to figure out how to kick the ball with the inside of his left foot. Way too interesting and cute. Go try it on your own kid. It might be an entertaining moment.

Then he became a pro. All it took was once, but very seldom do you actually get to see a part of some one's brain firing for the first time. Pretty cool indeed.

Ready, set, go! Soccer Season Begins

"Lightning Bolts"

Staring Evan

Evan standing by his coach.

Evan's first-ever soccer practice. He is in the goal. Little cutie. He cried and wouldn't get out of his daddy's arms for about 5 minutes. He has never been afraid of anything in his life, but Ian went out on the field with him and he said he would go since Ian was going. Then he had a blast.

My View on Religion

Life is full of many questions, and even answers, that I don't understand. The only thing that I understand, at least part of the time, is that God is in control even when I don't get it. I have seen this way too many times in my life to doubt it. Someone could threaten my life over my belief, but I can not budge, and I will not budge. It is too real to me. God has met me face to face way too many times for me to deny him.

Someone asked me once what I believe, what religion I am. My answer is this, I don't believe in religion. Religion is bondage to me, rules and regulations that only lead to failure and self-hatred. I believe in the freedom that only comes through Jesus, freedom from mistakes, sin, failures, and even freedom from sin that was committed against me. I believe Jesus came to this earth to walk in my steps so that I would never have to doubt if he understood me and my challenges, joys, and simply my everyday life.

I believe he came to take my place when in fact; I am the one who deserves to pay the price for the choices I have made in my life. He is perfect, I am imperfect, yet he was the one who hung on a cross so that the sins I have committed, as well as the sins that have been committed against me, could be forgiven and thrown away from me as far as the east is from the west. There had to be a price that was paid for my garbage. It is too ugly, makes me to ugly, to stand before God, so there had to be a price. I am so grateful that Jesus chose to do that for me.

He didn't have to. He is God. He could have sat there on his thrown and felt pity for me, but that is not the God I have sold out to. I have sold out to a God who is merciful and kind, who offers grace to me. I know the ugly stuff that I have thought in my heart. I may seem like a "good" person, but I know that I have broken everything that God has asked of me, and yet he didn't think I was unworthy of forgiveness. He didn't turn and look away from me. What an amazing thing to not be forgotten. He blew the stars off his hand. He designed a universe that is beyond my comprehension, yet he looked at me and decided I was worth paying a huge price for.

How in the world could I not praise him when he did that for me? That would be crazy! Simply put, I love him because he first loved me. I am a Christ follower because he thought I was worth giving his life for.

I was also asked why we take communion. We take communion to remember what he did for us. He offered his body and spilled out his blood so we wouldn't be separated from him, not only for eternity but even in our day-to-day lives. I get to walk with him today, sing with him today, and talk with him today, because he did that for me. The greatest threat I think I face in life is self-doubt, self-hatred. I hate failing. Unfortunately at times, I allow it to speak of my worth, so when I take communion it reminds me that I have worth. It reminds me that he thought I was worth dying for. That is intense to me. He is my friend, so I take communion to remember, because I don't ever want to forget what he did for me.

My Wedding Curse

The biggest challenge I have faced through this whole wedding thing is my dress. It seems to be my curse. I dreaded it worse than anything that I had to do. So, I finally did it, and it has continued to be a problem since then. Ug! I found a beautiful dress. I placed the order. They forgot to order it. I placed the order again. They lost my phone number. I called them, set an appointment, and went in to try on the dress. It was so pretty, but it would have fit Steve lengthwise. Length, not width. Just wanted to make sure you understood that. Anyway, the alteration lady came in and had no time for me and said it couldn't be done. So, I left frustrated to say the least. They called me back because they went to the big-dog alteration lady, and she said she could do it. They altered it. I brought it home and hung it in my closet until two nights ago when I took it to my friends to borrow some jewelry to match it. I took it out of the bag and the beading is coming loose. I am going to take it back and get my money. Then I am going to have to start over, which I can't believe. How can this happen. I need a miracle. Seriously. I feel frozen over it. I wish I had one of those friends that would come over to my house and pull my panicked rear end off the chair and drag me out the door. But life isn't a movie, and so I will proceed. I hope.

Cheap Therapy

Ah, today it is around 90 degrees, and I am lovin' it even though we have no air conditioner in our car or in our house. It is hot, but it is summer and summer brings out the happy hormones in me. Today I am doing laundry, and it is so therapeutic. This is why...

You have to admit. This is a darn cute site. I have been hanging my laundry on the "line," which consists of some string hanging around my backyard. My dryer makes this piercing sound that makes me feel like knives are being methodically drilled into my brain, so I use it as little as possible. Steve tried to fix it, but he needs to try again. I'm just saying.

Anyway, while I was hanging my sons' cute little undies on the line (actually Amanda's are out there too, but it is my goal to continue to live, so I won't post those), I was picking peas from my pea plants, located under the socks. The peas are right next to the raspberries we have been competing for over the past month. And, if you look very closely you will see pumpkins and gourds. Last fall we smashed them out there to see if they would grow. Impressed yet. Well, I am. It is my little accomplishment in my chaotic life of wedding planning.

Grandpa George May Be Right

Tonight when Ian got out of the shower he was telling me that it took him 2 seconds to dry off and how amazed he was that his hair was already dry. I started saying how great it must be to be a guy and not have to straighten and dry your hair. He interrupted me and said, "Mom, can you put a temperature thing on the shower because I found the perfect temperature for me but probably not for you."

Oh my, this does remind me of someone I know. How about you, Arlene? Do we have another engineer in the family? Maybe Grandpa George should get him a pocket-pack thingy for his birthday. :-)

Soaked

Ian: "Mom, can you get me my swimsuit. I am soaked from hands to knees. :-)"

To Those Who Made Me A Mommy

Mother's Day 2009

Tiffani, Coral, Lindsey, Amanda, Ian, and Evan...

I love the first time I see you, all wrinkly with your little squished face, crying then pausing when you see me to only start crying again, but that first glimpse of me shows recognition for a split second before you start screaming again because you are cold and mad that you have left the comfort of me.

I love the first time I see your hair, all matted to your little head. I love the way you smell, new, familiar. I wish I could have captured that smell so I would never forget it. I have tears that I can't quite remember it.

I love the first time you realize that we aren't quite as separated as you might have thought. You still need me to live. You squint into the light and see me. The perfect distance for your little eyes to focus. There is no mistake in that. It is divinely planned.

I love that I am not tired for the first time in forever. That I couldn't close my eyes if I wanted to. All I can do is stare at you. Everyone else sleeps from watching me labor, but I am no longer tired. I am energized by looking at your perfectly formed body and wondering who you are, what you will become. You are the picture of perfection, of what it was designed to be. Perfect innocence. Perfect trust. Perfect freedom to just simply rest in the safest place you know now. My arms.

I love that I have to sleep with the light on because we just can't seem to figure each other out in the dark, at least not yet. But we will. We will become pros. No one is better at this than you and I. We are the perfect example of the way this is suppose to work. We are good at what we do once we get the hang of it.

I love that little smile that you do while you are eating. You don't let go. But there is an undeniable smile as you recognize me. I am your mommy. There is no doubt in that. You know me.

I love when I place you on my shoulder to pat your little bottom and you lift your little head, taking every ounce of strength you have, only to bop your little nose on my shoulder. Ouch.

I love how you swing your legs to the side, trying to get your fat little belly onto the floor instead of sticking up in the air where I can kiss it, because you want to know the world more. I love how you finally figure it out. I love that you then scoot across the floor, and if that isn't quick enough for you, you roll faster than imagined. Then you discover your knees. And my do you become quick.

Then you stand and walk around the furniture and sometimes you fall like a tree, straight back. No bend in the legs. I don't love that. But I love remembering every little thing about you.

Then one day, you decide that whatever is in your hand is more important than your safety, so you let go and stand. That is until I freak out and startle you, sending you back to the floor where you are nice and safe.

I love the first time you realize you are doing something you shouldn't. When I walk into the room you turn and start crawling away as fast as you can, usually for me to chase you down and find some random thing stuffed in your chubby little cheek. Where you find this stuff, I will never know. It is a mystery.

Then you grow, and grow, and grow. Everyday filled with giggles, joy, tears, trust, and simply knowing you are safe in this world because you have me, and I love you. You know this. For this I am so thankful.

I love reading to you, especially when you have been freshly bathed and put in footy jamies. The smell of your head is heaven. One of the things that makes my heart warm. Then you snuggle your chubby little self right into the crook of my arm and you listen to every word I say, that is, until you have a question about why this or that is happening. You have many questions.

I love that when you discover your voice, there is only one volume that you speak at. VERY LOUD! Everyone knows you are there.

I love how you say things that I am glad no one understands but me. It makes me laugh, but because they don't understand, they don't get their feelings hurt. Of course there are the times they do understand, and I want to crawl right in a hole and never come out. I would take you with me of course, and then I would try not to laugh and cry while I explain to you why you can't tell someone they have a fat tummy or that their red hair looks like a clown. I love that you are observant, even if you are observing things that need to be kept a secret.

I love that even though you have been busy all day and haven't had the time for me and my kisses and hugs, at the end of the day you realize you still need my kisses and hugs, so you wrap yourself in my cozy blanket and snuggle in my arms calling me mama, even though you are six and bigger than life.

I love hearing my name one million times in a day, even though I want to pull my hair out. I am honored to have this name.

I love when you start spreading your wings even though it scares me. I love that you are becoming who God has designed you to be, even though sometimes you aren't exactly doing what God, or me for that matter, wants you to do. But I love that you are growing, that you are learning to stand on your own two feet. But I also love that you still remember me, that you call me, or text me when you need advice. I love that you look for me on the sidelines, and when you see me you give a little wave or smile to make sure I see you. I hope I always do.

I will never forget that you are my child. I will never forget how you have captured my heart and there is no way that I could pry it loose from your precious, wonderful self. I will never forget how your growth has been my growth, that every step you have taken, I have taken. And even though you grow and may not need me as much to survive, I want you to know that I am who I am because of who you are. The knowledge I have gained, the tears that have ran down my cheeks that came from almost bursting with pride, the joy, the peace, the memories I have today and the memories yet to come are all because of you, and I wouldn't trade it for fancy things, quite times, or a clean house.

You are my life. You made me a mommy.

The Salesman

Mom, how can Amanda and I earn $7.

I'm not sure. Why do you need $7.

Because we want to buy another spy kit.

You guys have tons of spy stuff.

I know, but this one has a dart gun, a light, a sound detector, and a comfortable ear piece.

A comfortable ear piece, huh. Maybe you should be a salesman when you grow up, Ian.


Later today....

Evan it is time for you to learn a rule. If you leave money in your pockets, mom will get it when she does the laundry.

No, it is my money.

No, its mom's money if you leave it in your clothes.

(He is right. If it is in the wash, it is mine....I have to make a living somehow.)

Beach Trip

Beach Spring 2009

Tips for the day

If you are 4 or 6, male, and you want to show your brother that you love him, you simply walk by him and smack him as hard as you can in the face. It really won't make your brother cringe or cry too much at all, at least most of the time. Most of the time he will simply understand that it is an act of endearment.

If you are 6, a male, and you want to show your mother, not your mom, that you love her, you simply should fly across the room at top speed, grunt your football-sounding grunt, and nail her wherever you might land. Don't worry about the fact that sometimes she may not know you are coming and there is a risk of spinal cord damage. She will understand. Trust me. To her it would be worth the risk to feel the amount of love she feels when you do this. After all you are her boy.

How many loves?

Little plugged-nose Evan this morning:

"I love Bandit 6 loves, and I love Oreo 4 loves."

I love you 100 million, trillion, zillion loves, Evan.