A.M. Mama

That's MR. Buzzkill to you...

2012-02-16T23:39:00.003-05:00

Apparently my bubble is destined to be burst, my balloon fated to be popped.

Because after reading the most recent post about my exciting jury duty summons, my brother felt as if he needed to call me RIGHT AWAY and snap me back to reality.

My career as a juror is just not meant to be. But I'm grateful that it's not ALL my fault.

In fact, I believe the majority of the fault lies with the former-police-officer-turned-law-student-turned-States-Attorneys-office-intern-turned-Public-Defenders-Office-intern.

Or Mr. Buzzkill, as I like to call my little brother.

Yes, my sibling's professional career path has potentially dashed all my dreams of storming a courtroom all "Elle Woods" style and judiciously doling out my opinions alongside a panel of my peers.

Mr. Buzzkill says that during jury selection, the parties may just be interested to know if I'm related to anyone who's been a cop. Or worked for the State's Attorney's Office. Or the Public Defender's Office. He also says he's really sorry.

I think he hears the legitimate disappointment on my end of the phone. Because he turns it around quickly and suggests that, hey, maybe I could just go down there and hang out for the day with a hundred other citizens who are sure to want to be there as much as I do. It might be fun.

But I'm already bubbling in my "stay-at-home-mom" excuse and sealing the envelope.

Whatever.

I think my driver's license is up for renewal soon. With a few tweaks, my new "Jury Duty" outfit will totally work at the DMV.

Cheap Babysitter. Terrible History Teacher.

2012-02-12T21:05:00.006-05:00

Drew and I have been studying American history together since the beginning of January. It's pretty interesting stuff... explaining the formation of our country to a six-year old. Trying to get him to understand just how AMAZING it is that we have certain freedoms (when those freedoms are all he's ever known, it's easy to assume everyone in the world lives the same way he does). It gives me a new appreciation for the great old US of A.

In my mind I figured the best way to sear history into his little head was to get up close and personal. The cost of a few plane tickets would surely be outweighed by the indelible impression a historical adventure would make. So we've begun to plan a trip to Philadelphia (to see the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall) and New York City (to meet Lady Liberty)!

If I'd only known sooner that there was a much cheaper, more highly inaccurate method of teaching history that really spoke to my six-year old:

After Thursday's history lesson was interrupted by my VERY excited son's recount of what REALLY happened to cause that big crack, I've added "The Pink Panther" to my ever-growing list of outlawed shows in our house!

At least until we're finished with "MY AMERICA and MY WORLD" for first graders.

Ladies & Gentlemen, I Have Arrived!

2012-02-06T21:22:00.006-05:00

It came today!

The letter I've been anticipating, hoping for, dreaming of for the past 20 years.

The proof that I decided long ago would confirm I was a capable, mature grown-up who contributed something meaningful to her community.

I was summoned to JURY DUTY!!!!!!

In case you think I'm exercising my sarcastic wit right now, let me assure you I am not.

Just ask my husband. My bewildered, confused husband who watched me wave my letter around the kitchen tonight as I exclaimed, "Do you know what this is!? Did you see it?!? Did you see what I got today!"

"Um.... yes." I could see him searching his inner database for the correct response. He knew it wasn't the one that was coming naturally to him at the moment.

"I've ALWAYS wanted to do this! I've NEVER been called to jury duty before! NOT ONCE!" I grinned widely, hoping my excitement might fuel an equal response.

His face went blank. He had clearly given up, feeling as if he had no chance of even feigning an appropriate reaction.

Despite his lack of enthusiasm, I carried on, reading the details aloud of the date and time my presence was being requested to serve my civic duty.

And then I got to the part where they list possible reasons a potential juror might be excused from this high and lofty honor.

AND I QUALIFY to be dismissed... no questions asked. I am the parent of a child under the age of six years old and I am not employed full-time.

(image courtesy of freestockphotos.biz)

In other words, the State of Florida would like for me to check the box, mail back my excuse, and get on with my job of, you know, being a mom. According to my hubby, the general population would be relieved by such a turn of events.

So now, ladies & gentlemen, I have arrived... at a quandary!

Do I bow out or step up?

What IS a wannabe civil servant to do????

What's in it for me?

2012-01-31T14:42:00.007-05:00

He's been trying to weasel his way out of schoolwork all day.

Who am I kidding? He's been trying to weasel his way out of schoolwork all year. This rowdy, distracted, can't-sit-still kind of kid is itching to get outside. And he's using every tactic his six-year old brain can conjure up to get me to agree.

But there are spelling words to be conquered and math problems to be solved. And I'm standing my ground this morning. He's surprised; after all, I'm usually a push-over, easily swayed into changing our routine to suit his "learning style".

Today, I am not so agreeable and not so spontaneous and a little more responsible and goshdarnit, he just needs to learn to sit still.

So, a pencil and a worksheet serve as handcuffs and we plow forward with our work. Until the twinkle flashes in his eye and I know that he has tuned out the reason why frost forms on plants and instead has figured out how he might just thaw his mom's icy demeanor.

"I am going to do something real nice for you today. Because you're such a great teacher, and a GREAT mom...

(dramatic pause, I'm listening with a frowny grin),

I'm going to make you a wonderful lunch. A wonderful, healthy.... PICNIC lunch!"

Ah... He's good.

"A picnic lunch, huh? Let me guess, outside?"

"Of course, Mom! Let's see, I'm going to make you..."

I cut him off. I appreciate the art of his style but can only tolerate so much of it without my shovel. "You know what, we can eat outside. That's fine."

This is no grand gesture of gratitude on his part. I'd tell him that I'm on to him, but I don't really see a purpose in that. Besides, I'm too tired of saying "No" and I'm out of reasons for being disagreeable.

As I expect, his heartfelt, "thank-you lunch" idea abruptly ends with my agreement to have our meal outside, and he rushes away from the refrigerator, leaving the door swinging open.

Leaving me to come up with yet another healthy, well-balanced, crowd-pleasing, inexpensive meal in the next ten minutes.

Because now that I'm standing in the kitchen, everyone is STARVING!!!!

After a pot of macaroni and cheese is dished into serving bowls, and my salad is topped with last night's leftover meat, I head outside balancing 3 meals, drinks, napkins, and a crying toddler.

The boy is already suited up in his bicycle helmet and has spread a pink blanket out on the driveway. The warm winds have turned the blanket into a disheveled pile, and I find myself staring down at a demanding finger. "Go get something to hold this blanket down... QUICK!" he orders.

After receiving a short lecture on respect and honor, the boy sprints into the house and emerges with 20 pounds of freeweights. "Look at how strong I am!!" he shouts as he bangs and clangs the dumbbells into and out of the front door, placing each one clumsily on a corner of our picnic blanket.

Not a thank-you is spoken and not a prayer offered up as our meal begins. I could do it. No, I SHOULD do it, but I'm just on that bitter auto-pilot of serving the ungrateful, I suppose. The girl and I begin to eat, while the boy rides circles around us on his bike. I ask if he'd like to join us for the picnic - it was his idea, did he remember?

I'm not surprised that he's not hungry. He's never hungry. He's just busy pedaling faster and faster. More and more toys emerge from the garage. His sister is now distracted and running after him - a fool's mission. She'll never catch up. But she's trying and she's begging him as he races by. "Chase me. Catch me! Chase me, Nuhnuh!" He pauses briefly to tickle her and she soaks in the attention. Then he's off again.

Miss M toddles behind me and spills my soda across the blanket, then bursts into sobs. I hold and rock her until she's comforted and then she squirms out of my reach and rushes to play with the weights holding down our lunch table. She drops one on her foot, and I once again hold and rock her until she's comforted and then she squirms away again.

By now, Drew has pulled out two pairs of roller skates and it's one for him and one for her, and could I PLEASE help Miss M put on her skates, Mommy?! I oblige and spend the next 20 minutes "skating" her around the driveway while the boy races back and forth around us. When the baby tires of skating, she lets me know by suddenly erupting into another outburst of uncontrollable tears. I peel off the skates and tell Drew to put his away, too.

My "Thank-You-For-Being-A-Great-Mom/Teacher" picnic lunch ends unceremoniously and the kids plunk themselves in front of the television. I follow behind, with a stack of uneaten bowls of noodles and spilled cups of soda. The blanket stays out on the driveway. With 20 lbs of freeweights, it's not in danger of blowing away, right?

I scoop the baby away from the T.V. and begin our naptime routine. She attempts another emotional breakdown, but it's not really even in her. She turns over and closes her eyes as I tuck the blanket high over her shoulders and kiss her red, tear-stained cheek.

I ignore the sinkful of dishes and give the boy a five-minute warning that school will resume shortly. I wander to the laundry room and, as I'm placing damp clothes in the dryer, he finds me to declare that he's now hungry! I hear myself begin some sort of lecture on lunchtime being lunchtime and that I'm not going to make another meal and that he's old enough to find something for himself and that it MUST BE HEALTHY!

The next thing I know, we're back in the classroom and he's eating cookies straight out of the box and I am not even saying a word about it. Because I'm in a funk over my ungrateful kid's attempt to manipulate what he wants out of me under the guise of doing something for me.

And then God quietly nudges my heart with gently-spoken yet heartbreaking truth. My young son once again has shown me what I do to my Father all the time. I chase after my desires. I'm relentless about what I want. I'm fussy and irritable and uncomfortable until I get it. And sometimes, I even figure out ways where MY selfish wants might just do God some good, too!

"Lord, if You just answer this prayer this way for me, I will be so thankful. I will just glorify You in it! You will get all the praise!"

And I fool myself (and myself alone) to think that my self-centered, self-seeking desires will somehow bring honor and glory to God. Because all too often, once I get the answer I'm looking for, I'm just like my boy... leaving that refrigerator door standing wide open... to run off in pursuit of what makes me happy.

As I search my heart, I realize that even my "good" desires can be laced in selfishness. I want to be a good mom, a patient teacher, a loving wife, a devoted disciple. Those are all good things, I know. But sometimes, I want to be a good mom so that others are impressed with my kids' behavior. Sometimes, I want to be a patient teacher so that my kid doesn't drive me insane by the end of the day and I don't feel guilty for losing my cool again with him. Sometimes, I want to be a loving wife so that my husband will, in turn, be an adoring husband.

Sometimes, I just want my life to be easy and comfortable. Sometimes, I want the picnic-blanket thank-you lunch to actual be for me.

Ugh...

And then the Still Small Voice is speaking again. Still gentle, still full of truth. Showing me that I need to be refreshed, and my refreshment can come from a new focus. So I spend my time seeking the Only One who can refocus me on the Only One who really matters. I sit at the feet of Jesus and lay down my desires one by one. It's a messy heap, and I know there's more to add daily.

I am begging Him to teach me to just LOVE Him. To love God so much that there's no room left in my heart for it, and it just ends up spilling out onto my husband and kids. That I realize just how patient He is with me, and I cannot be anything but patient with the people He's given me to love. That His goodness toward me is so immeasurable evident that I am compelled to be good-natured toward the children He's entrusted to my care.

And I am begging that the next time I'm offered a picnic lunch, I embrace the moment with a grateful heart for a child capable of (if not eager to be) fixing it, and the provisions of food that make eating it even possible.

Next time, my heart's desire will be that I find something divine in the driveway-dining experience!

Happy Birthday!

2012-01-15T15:28:00.005-05:00

Today is my husband's birthday. I'm not sure he would want me to share his age publicly, but as he put it this morning, the next "BIG" milestone in a few short years is going to be FORTY!

I'd dwell on his advanced age a bit more if it weren't for the fact that I'm only a few months younger than he. When in the world did we get so old?

A few weeks ago, I sat in the waiting room of a large eye surgery center. The place was filled with all manner of grandparent-ish folks, waiting for cataract or glaucoma repairs. I was kind of feeling my age a bit as I looked around at my "peers" that day. A younger guy leaned over to me and whispered, "Are we ever going to be this old? Are we ever going to find ourselves hanging out in the eye surgery center waiting rooms for our spouses?"

Sensing the question was rhetorical anyway, I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. He was obviously just there to give his dad a ride. But I knew that down a long corridor, in a sterile surgery room, my way-too-young-for-this husband was earning his membership the hard way. This guy didn't know he was talking to someone who was already in the "club".

About 33 years ago, David suffered a significant injury which resulted in almost a complete loss of vision in his left eye. Since that time, he has braved countless surgeries to correct and repair the damage he did when he poked a stick into his eye after being startled by the sound of a B.B. gun.

(Yes, we'd like to apply to be the poster family for every "It could happen to you" cliche' involving eye safety).

Besides the loss of vision, he's lived relatively symptom-free from the injury until this year. To the best of their knowledge, the doctors and surgeons he's consulted over the past few months haven't really known how to explain the sudden onset of intense pain and discomfort he's endured. Their general consensus was that, after all this time living without function, his eye began to shut down and his body, in turn, began to reject it.

David decided to pursue "Enucleation", which meant he would have his eye removed and replaced with a prosthetic. He was confident in his decision. After all, he'd told me (even years prior) that if he ever had another eye surgery, he'd want it to be taken out to ensure it was his LAST eye surgery.

I didn't blame him. I was one of his biggest cheerleaders in the decision. And quite honestly, in the weeks leading up to the procedure, I didn't give the whole thing much thought at all.

But a week before he went into the appointment, he was sharing a little of his heart with the small group he teaches at our church on Sunday mornings. As I listened to him speak, I was profoundly struck by one thought in particular.

He said, "I'm not afraid of the surgery because I know it's the right thing to do, and I don't want to live with the pain for another minute. But it's still hard as I think about it. It may be a bad eye; it may be diseased. But it's still mine and it's all I've ever known."

I realized at that moment that my husband is honest, wise, and one of the bravest men I know.

For the next few days, I mulled that comment over and over in my mind. It wasn't long before God began showing me the spiritual applications for what David taught me. I, along with so many people, struggle with letting go of those things that encumber me, even though these things cause pain and discomfort in my life. I am aware of areas in my life that are diseased with pride or complacency, but sometimes I let my "stuff" just stay because:

It's who I am.

It's all I've ever known of myself.

And while I may not like it, I don't know what I'd be without it.

So I hang on to my selfish ways.

It was a rough week, the first week after David's surgery. There was a lot of pain. There were a few complications. Isn't that always the way? The pain has now subsided, but there are new challenges. Although he was legally blind before in his injured eye, there was a small amount of peripheral vision there. Now, he has only the vision his right eye affords him. He's literally adjusting to a completely new outlook on life. And he's doing it with grace and dignity.

Let me say it again, my husband is one of the bravest men I know.

And I want to be like him. I want God to give me the courage to let Him remove the areas of my life that aren't acceptable to Him. I realize that there may be pain and adjustment in the process. But what He has for me is worth it!

Hebrews 12: ¹Since we are surrounded by so many examples of faith, we must get rid of everything that slows us down, especially sin that distracts us. We must run the race that lies ahead of us and never give up. ²We must focus on Jesus, the source and goal of our faith.

My husband may be lamenting this birthday as a reminder of the aging process. But there are good things that come with age, too. Wisdom, maturity, a courageous spirit. And if those qualities are usually reserved for the "more mature" in years, well, I'll welcome my time spent hanging out in the glaucoma/cataract center waiting rooms. As long as we are out of our appointments in time for the early-bird dinner specials!

Happy Birthday, David! I love you!

Same Old Same Old

2011-11-23T22:19:00.003-05:00

Tomorrow we will wake up before the dawn and lace up our running shoes to participate in our city's annual "Turkey Trot". We'll probably arrive to the starting line late, as we often do. We probably won't mind - it's more about running into old friends and keeping up traditions that it is about crossing finish lines and getting exercise.

We'll pat ourselves on the back after our "work-out" by heading to my mom & dad's for a huge breakfast, followed by football, parades, and a huge lunch. We'll call my mother-in-law to wish her a Happy Birthday, wishing we could be in two places at once, helping her celebrate her special day! We'll watch more football, read the "Black Friday" ads, make plans for Christmas decorating, and head out for more family gatherings.

It will be the same old same old thing that we've done for the past 30 yrs or so. And nothing could please me more.

Because just one year ago, my mom & dad shared a hospital cafeteria-cooked turkey dinner in a room at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. And we kids tried to make the best of the day without them. But the turkey was way too big, and my sister got a stomach flu, and the weather (which was unseasonably warm even for Florida) permitted my son and nephew to go swimming on Thanksgiving Day! Which wasn't a bad thing, just not a very Thanksgiving-y thing, to do.

So this year, I am thankful... so very thankful that we get another year to celebrate our same old same old Thanksgiving. And that my dad is here to celebrate it with us. For that, I am SO VERY grateful to God!

What are you thankful for today?

How I Kept Him Occupied

2011-11-10T13:11:00.007-05:00

It takes a certain level of preparation to leave my house. Especially when I know that the dreaded errand ahead involves a certain discount superstore and a mile-long list that will force me to scavenge every square inch of said superstore.

With a baby in a cast (Yeah, I should post about that, shouldn't I?) and a boy recovering from dental surgery (yeah, that too) and a need to check SOMETHING off of our homeschool list for the day (Oh, yeah... did I mention that I've been homeschooling Drew this year?), I needed a creative way for everyone to survive our morning out.

The following list took approximately two minutes to compile and print. I quickly took a mental inventory of the subjects we've been studying and jotted down the following scavenger hunt checklist for the boy.

I grabbed the digital camera, my list, Drew's list, and a few snacks on my way out the door. We spent over an hour shopping, and I'm happy to report that both my children were enthusiastic and excited about the experience.

So, here's the list along with Drew's "answers" in picture form. Just in case you're looking for a new way to survive the same old errands today, too!

Something that starts with a "W"

Something that reminds you of what we learned about Plymouth Plantation:

Something that reminds you of the poem we're memorizing (don't ask!):

Something with the "CH" special sound:

Something smaller than 6 inches in length:

Something larger than 6 inches in length:

Something "Verde" (green):

Something Daddy would like:

One dozen of something:

One half dozen of something (2 drumsticks, 3 drums & 1 cymbal)

Something to add to your Christmas list:

Something with 2 syllables:

Something "Rojo" (red):

Something that costs 4 quarters:

Something to add to your Christmas list:

Something your friend Averi would like:

Something Miss M would like:

Something to add to your Christmas list (he could add as many as he wanted!):

Something more than $100.00

Something less than $5.00:

I hope to find a few minutes to document everything else that's been happening in our busy lives, including one VERY IMPORTANT decision my six-year old made just last night!

Was AT, Mommy?!?!? Was AT, Mommy?!?!? Was AT, Mommy?!?!?

2011-10-16T21:18:00.005-04:00

Thousands of food items lining the shelves of the grocery store.

No volume-control yet for her enthusiastic vocal chords.

One question she's really good at asking.

MANY entertained fellow shoppers at Publix tonight!

The One Year Mark

2011-10-12T20:52:00.004-04:00

One year ago tonight, I was snuggled in a hospital bed with Drew as he recovered from brain surgery. I can still feel that baby of a five-year old in my arms, his diminutive frame swallowed up by cartoon-printed scrubs and piles of blankets.

A whole YEAR has passed. One YEAR! I suppose it's similar with most major life events; this one feels like it happened only yesterday - and on the other hand it feels like we've lived ten lifetimes since then.

Drew is happy, healthy, and is showing no ill physical effects. He's doing great in his schoolwork and he's playing baseball - REAL baseball (no more t-ball for him!) - on a team with mostly eight year old companions. He holds his own running, sliding, roughhousing and tumbling with the best of them.

Sometimes I'll forget he's even had brain surgery. Then, he'll get a short haircut that will reveal a zipper-sized scar up the back of his head and neck, and I'll briefly recall all this past year has held.

It's been a good year in many ways, a hard year in many ways, but a busy one in every way. Perhaps that's why I've all but given up on blogging. We've made many changes in our lives, many of those choices making us busier than ever before. (Perhaps those will be posts for another day.)

Today, though, I write to remember where we were a year ago. To tell of God's faithfulness that day, and the days, weeks and months that followed in bringing healing to our son's little head. To tell of God's blessings in allowing us to experience the "Peace that passes all understanding". To thank Him for a clear diagnosis, a decisive plan, an amazing support system of family and friends and a flood of prayers on his/our behalf!

Psalm 71:16-18

New Century Version (NCV)

¹⁶ I will come and tell about your powerful works, Lord God.
I will remind people that only you do what is right.

¹⁷ God, you have taught me since I was young.
To this day I tell about the miracles you do.
¹⁸ Even though I am old and gray,
do not leave me, God.
I will tell the children about your power;
I will tell those who live after me about your might.

Happy (Belated) Mother's Day

2011-05-09T12:45:00.004-04:00

"My Mom Is Special"

(A Mother's Day fill in the blank I found in my son's backpack this morning)

My mom is special because:
she likes me

I like it when Mom:

plays with me.

My mom can do many things! I think she's best at:

drawing trees

My mom has a pretty smile. I like to make her smile by:

telling jokes

My mom is as pretty as a:

Flower

My mom is smart! She even knows how to:

play an oboe.

I think I'll keep my day job. Happy Mother's Day, and thanks to my amazing family for giving me the best "day job" in the whole wide world.

A Little Lesson in Surrender

2011-03-24T10:37:00.003-04:00

She had clearly bitten off more than she could chew - the chipmunk cheeks were a dead giveaway.

(Miss M has a champion's appetite, but not a whole lot of teeth yet. I often have to remind her to "take little bites" or spit out a portion of the food she has shoved into her mouth.)

I was concerned she might choke, so I knelt in front of her and put my hand out to her mouth. "Spit it out," I instructed. My little girl looked at me, nodded her head and then proceeded to PRETEND to spit her food into my hand.

A smile formed at the corners of her full mouth and she began to walk away.

"Uh-uh", I scolded. "Spit out some of that food!"
Again, she toddled up to me, leaned into that outstretched hand and dipped her face as if she was surrendering obediently.
Again, my hand was empty.

I shook my head in disbelief and forceably fished the excess morsels from her lips.

"How can she possibly think I'd fall for that?" I wondered quietly.

The next thought that entered my head was so strong, it felt like I could almost hear God speaking it audibly.

"You do that to Me all the time..."

I've been having a lot of conversations lately about surrender. We all seem to know that we need to give our "stuff" to the Lord. To let Him deal with our issues, our worries, our pains, our fears, and even our good times. But I think that a lot of times, I end up biting off way more than I can chew and only pretending to surrender it to those Almighty outstretched hands when asked.

Sure, I go through the motions. I come before God in prayer. I ask Him to take my burdens. But then, I often turn on my heels having left none of it at the feet of Jesus. And without surrendering it, TRULY surrendering it all, I walk away ready to choke.

I wonder if God sometimes shakes His head at me in disbelief as I walk away leaving His hand empty of my troubles. Those Hands that are so capable. Hands big enough to craft the universe... surely there's room in those Hands for what I have to bring Him today.

And I know there's room in there for your stuff, too.

1 Peter 5:7 (Amplified Bible)
Casting the whole of your care [all your anxieties, all your worries, all your concerns, once and for all] on Him, for He cares for you affectionately and cares about you watchfully.

And now it's 21...

2011-03-06T22:17:00.004-05:00

This little Miss M is a chatterbox.

Her babbles and coos are nonstop.

At her lastest check-up, the doctor asked if she knew and used at least 10 words. I said that sounded about right.

But yesterday, I began counting how many words she actually knows and uses correctly. I was astounded as I tallied up at least twenty "things" my baby can say.

Her repertoire includes some basic stuff like:

Uh-oh, Mama, Dada, Up, Walker (the dog always gets top billing in a baby's first words!), thank you and bye-bye.

She also knows:
Duck, Paci (which sounds more like "sissy"), purple, cat, dog, and Minnie Mouse (MinMow), to name a few.

And with the amount of praise she gets each time she masters a new word, we shouldn't have been surprised at the pride on her face when she attempted today's new word.

It was lunchtime, and I asked her to pick up a piece of food she'd just spilled on the floor.

She paused, looked around at the whole family, and said as clear as day:

"NO!"

Stifling giggles as we watched Drew's mouth hit the floor, her daddy and I tried to correct her gently.

"Megan...we don't say that to Mommy!" I began.

"NO!" she stated emphatically, excited by all the attention.

"No Ma'am!", we scolded, outdoing her in force and stern looks.

The giggles had to be subdued once again when she "hid" from our frowns by squatting under the coffee table til the trouble blew over.

Tomorrow, I think we'll work on words # 22 and #23:

"Yes" & "Ma'am".

Which works out find since I'm still working on those with my nearly-six year old.

The Name Should Have Been My First Clue

2011-03-03T22:52:00.003-05:00

My husband and I started a new fitness program this week. So that I don't appear as if I'm endorsing any certain product or company, I won't share which workout program we're doing.

I'll just say this. It's CRAZY. LOCO. NUTS!

This intense cardio workout has me practically (and sometimes physically) on my knees begging for the clock to run out. But it's day 4 and the screaming muscles are starting to settle down into just whiny muscles. I can handle whiny.

So, I am hopeful that the workout itself won't make me lose my sanity. I'm afraid, though, that the distractions I face while doing the workout may just push me over the brink.

For instance, yesterday I couldn't squeeze forty minutes for me into the day until about 8 p.m. My husband was at a church meeting, so I put the baby to bed and let Drew accompany me to the garage where I began the video.

Four minutes in, my son decided to join me.

Eight minutes in, he decided he'd rather watch. (He would just need to take my floor mat so he'd have a comfortable place to sit.)

Nine minutes in, Miss M began to cry from her crib.

The video was paused.

Twelve minutes in, Miss M awoke again. I used the "water break" to find her misplaced pacifier.

Fifteen minutes in, a mosquito bit me for the second time.

Seventeen minutes in, a sales call's shrill ring echoed through the house phone and office fax line.

Seventeen minutes, 10 seconds in, Miss M began to cry again.

The video was paused.

Twenty minutes in, Drew barely missed my hand as he circled my pathetic push-up attempts with his bicycle.

Twenty-three minutes in, he asked me question # 47 about what I was doing.

Twenty-six minutes in, I told him to go take a fourteen minute shower.

The video was paused (he's not tall enough to turn on the shower by himself).

Thirty-six minutes in, a sopping wet, towel-clad Drew asked me question #48 (which I refused to answer because he had a watch and knew EXACTLY how much longer Mommy was going to be).

Forty minutes later I was tired, sweaty and grumpy.

I don't know if any of it had to do with the instructor on the other side of that computer screen, but I'm thinking that this whole workout idea might just be an exercise in insanity.

Epic.

2011-02-23T06:00:00.001-05:00

The previous hours had been spent watching t-ballers parade and tumble on bounce houses. But as the sun set and the crowds dwindled, the coaches and managers took to the field.

They warmed up as we tried to cozy up next to each other on the bleachers. Drew asked me, "Have you ever seen Daddy play baseball before?"

Once or twice, I recalled to him.

"Can he hit and throw and catch, too?"

Oh sure.. He can do all those things, buddy! I think you're going to enjoy watching him play.

The scrimage game started, and the bigger boys heckled from the sidelines. Plenty of "old man" jokes were thrown around, as good-natured jeering spurred our men to prove they still had "it" out there on the diamond.

The opposing team sent their first player to bat, and the pitch was an easy target. A loud crack accompanied the ball as it flew high over the left field fence.

The little crowd went wild! A boy walked past our spot just as I heard him say, "Oh yeah... my dad's EPIC isn't he?"

Epic!

I smiled, delighted on behalf of that daddy, who was rounding the bases toward home plate.

Turning to pull my son in closer from the chilly wind, I heard him sigh, "I wish it was my Daddy who got that home run."

My delighted heart cringed a bit as I took in the awe-tinged jealousy Drew felt toward that big kid. He said nothing more... just went back to sucking on a root beer flavored lollipop and staring into the outfield.

A few more players scored for the opposing team, and then three outs sent them to their dugout, while our team switched gears and warmed up their bats.

Drew's daddy was first in the batting lineup, and I watched him patiently wait by homeplate as the pitcher perfected his form. I tapped Drew on the leg when it was time for him to pay attention, and his daddy stepped up to the plate.

The first pitch was unimpressive, and my husband declined to swing at the second ball as well. I figured a "Walk" might be a safe way for my husband to get to first.

The pitcher threw the ball again, and I heard a familiar crack. Losing the ball for only a moment in the bright lights, I caught up with it's trajectory as it sailed over the centerfield fence.

The crowd may have gone wild again, but I couldn't hear anyone else's cheers over our own. Drew and I high-fived eachother with mouths open in disbelief.

"MY DADDY GOT A HOME RUN! MY DADDY GOT A HOME RUN!" he shouted. And as his daddy rounded the bases toward home, his boy hopped down the bleachers and ran toward the fence.

I stayed in my seat, giving my hubby a casual thumbs-up and a smile. The boy stayed glued to the dugout for the rest of the game.

It was, in a word, epic.

Conversation Hearts

2011-02-21T20:57:00.002-05:00

Three big hearts are stuck to our refrigerator door these days.

Each one bears the description of the "Love Language" most important to certain members of our family. The descriptions come from the "5 Love Languages" book (or online quiz if you need instant gratification like me!) by Gary Chapman.

My husband's heart says "Acts of Service", mine says "Words of Affirmation", and our Drew's heart says "Quality Time".

Realizing how different each of my "men" responds and relates to acts of love has left me sort of disheartened. After all, I'm so exhausted by the end of each day, they're lucky if I pour love in any shape or form into my family. How am I supposed to love them each in their own specific way.. and how am I EVER going to get the kind of love (read: TALKING, WORDS, SHARING, COMMUNICATION) that I need???

But God's really gotten a hold of me lately in the LOVE department. I am feeling challenged by how I love Him and how I show His love to others. So, I am determined to start with the people I truly love the most on this earth.

I really thought that the refrigerator hearts were going to be for my benefit only. After all, they are shades of pinks and reds, and I've penned the descriptions in hot pink sparkly paint. Virtual camoflauge to a man's eyes.

But something crazy has been happening over the last few days. Sure... I'm making an effort to spend more time with my son. And yes, I've been doing crazy things like cleaning out the garage and keeping the dishes out of the sink for my hubby.

But I've also been getting random text messages throughout the day with words of love from my husband. He's been thanking me for everything I do around the house. He's been pointing out his appreciation for things I didn't even know mattered to him.

And that... well, that fills this sparkly-pink-painted heart right up. (So much I may just go clean a bathroom!!)

Little Footprints

2011-02-03T23:30:00.003-05:00

The fields had obviously just been maintained as our team of ten t-ballers scattered across the red dirt. Their little footprints disturbed the perfectly-raked lines and smeared the straight white chalk marks.

It took no time before all four bases were covered in cleat-marked polka dots as the "Cardinals" practiced running, hitting, and fielding tonight under big fluorescent lights and a cover of fog.

It wasn't long before the dugout was not a suitable place for Miss M to play. She could not merely be a fan tonight. She was compelled to participate.

So, we took to the field with the team. We found a place along the third base line that was untouched by rowdy-boy-footprints and missed catches and wayward bats. We found pristine red clay and smooth white chalk lines, and we made our mark.

She rounded third. And hopped on and off of it, too. She pittered and pattered until every last inch of her spot of infield was covered in Size 5 toddler shoe prints. She chased me and I chased her.

She blew kisses at me when I cautioned her to come nearer to mommy, then turned on her heels and tried to run toward the chaos.

I scooped her up and together we ventured all the way to the high fence at the edge of the outfield.

There, we found shell-lined paths where the grass ended. She attemped to climb the fence. I turned my attention toward the boys. I noticed my son's size 12 feet high up in the air as he tumbled on top of a pile of teammates (while the coaches diligently tried to run drills).

The little one eventually rubbed her eyes and signed "Please". I fished her paci out of my pocket and hoisted her onto my hip. We trudged back through the shells, across the wet grass, past the hundreds of baby footprints, and into the dugout.

As practice drew to a close, the "Cardinals" swarmed around my girl and me... looking for misplaced helmets, bats, snacks and gloves.

I smiled, thinking about the hundreds of footprints being left, this time somewhat undetected, on the dugout's cement floor.

I recalled my life before these children: Pristine, perfectly raked-lines. Straight white chalk marks.

And I thanked God for all the times He makes His mark, "disturbing" my perfectly planned paths...using those little Size 5 and Size 12 footprints.

Ok Here Goes Nothing...

2011-01-27T13:04:00.002-05:00

Can you really forget how to write? Every time I attempt to post ANYTHING on this blog, I am met with the most astounding distractions.

And writer's block to boot.

For instance, this week, my dear friend lost her brother in a police shooting. He was a brave officer, a hero, a man who loved Jesus, a husband, father, son, all-around great guy.

My dad has had a string of complications in his recovery process, and it seems like an even stranger complication has now arisen this week.

My father-in-law will be in the hospital for days following a hip replacement surgery. They are in Alabama, and we can't go see them or sit with them or help out with meals or chores or anything.

And a dear friend is currently suffering facial paralysis and was promptly checked into the hospital last night while they run a battery of tests.

You'd think that I'd have SOMETHING to say, since people who like to write also like to process their thoughts in writing.

But, no.... I have nothing.

Instead, here's what I was pondering this morning as I decided that I really needed to write on my blog:

I think it's kind of cool to watch this amazing balance I am observing between my two children these days.

My son is beginning to lose his baby teeth as my daughters are just breaking through for the first time.

My daughter is packing on those pudgy toddler pounds as I observe my son getting leaner, taller, downright skinnier every single day.

My son is learning to read the same exact first primary words that my daughter is beginning to mimick in speech. (Which is a pretty cool way for me to find some down-time these days. "Hey Andrew, go read that "Ball" book to your sister!)

My daughter is entering the "tantrum" phase as MERCIFULLY my son is outgrowing it.

And while we have finally conquered even nighttime without a pull-up for my son, I am looking ahead toward breaking out that potty seat for child #2!

Yes, those are the deep thoughts that have been lurking in my mind for the past month. The profound words I have chosen to write after a month-long hiatus from hitting the "publish post" button.

I trust you will gain great insight from visiting today. And I hope to be back with more before too long.

Because no matter how trivial the thoughts are, it sure feels good to be processing them!!

crickets?

2010-12-30T21:43:00.002-05:00

I kept hearing crickets... didn't realize it was coming from my blog.

Well, you think I'd have a ton to write about after taking an apparent month-long hiatus from blogging.

And I have a ton to report... like a magical white Christmas, the best EVER for my 5-year old boy.

And a visit to our college alma mater (the first for my hubby in 10 years... my how things change).

And great family celebrations with both sides of our family this season.

And pajama parties with great friends.

BUT... that will all have to wait for another day.

For now, I'm letting the crickets resume their chirping, and I'll see you in the New Year!

Happy 2011!!!

grounded.

2010-11-22T22:30:00.003-05:00

bleh.

He's been crying for 30 minutes straight.
Sobbing hysterically.
Calming down until he remembers his horrible fate.
And he falls apart all over again.

My moms says it's as if I have a 14 year old girl in the background.
But it's just a five year old boy.
And he's broken-hearted.
He feels "mean and angry" inside.

Between the moans, he reminds me that the punishment is "just too much".
"I just can't take it!" he wails.
But I hold my ground.
And he remains...

Grounded.

From television.
For a day.

He was warned.
More than once.
But self-control eluded him.
Apparently, his rear end was just too funny.
After all, he referred to it at least seven times today as the punch line for his jokes.

He tried to negotiate.
He sacrificed gum and the gameboy for a week or more
If I would just reconsider the whole TV ban.
Unfortunately for my little briar rabbit,
I held my ground.

"But Mommy!" he started.
I stopped him short.
"No more Buts.
Or Butts.
Or TV."

He cried himself to sleep on our long ride home.
And I tucked him into bed without TV.
For one measly day.

bleh.

Hello to the grandparents in colder climates...

2010-11-22T21:16:00.002-05:00

I've heard so many people lament the fact that it's hard to get into the holiday spirit when it's 80+ degrees outside in Florida. I can understand that... but it's all I've ever known, so I can do "Merry" while wearing flip flops and sunscreen.

I did, however, find it a bit humorous as I chased my toddler around the splash area at the local amusement park today. Maybe "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" being pumped through the speakers had something to do with the absurdity of it all.

How we do winter in Florida from mom2drew on Vimeo.

Untitled from mom2drew on Vimeo.

All the grandparents are in colder climates this Thanksgiving, and I'm guessing that it's already beginning to look a lot like Christmas in Alabama and Minnesota. So, this post is for Baba, Diado, Grandma & Grandpa - we're sending our warmest wishes your way. And we're so thankful to God for who you all are in our lives. We love you and we'll miss you all this week!

Six Weeks Later...

2010-11-21T20:01:00.004-05:00

It's been approximately 6 weeks since Drew had his brain surgery. Time flies when you're trying to keep an active boy inactive.

Which is why Drew and I were SO excited as we drove to school Friday morning. Since he returned to class, his only limitation has been that he had to sit out of P.E. and recess until he returned from Thanksgiving break. But in a moment of generosity, I decided that the day before Thanksgiving break was close enough. I jotted out my permission on a scrap piece of paper. He clutched the note tightly in his hand and jumped out of the car.

"See ya, Mom!"

And ever since I signed my name to that little piece of paper, my son has gone from this:

To this:

I'm remembering the words of warning our surgeon gave us several months ago. About how he may become even MORE active once the Chiari Malformation was corrected.

Those telling words rang in my head when my son took a flying leap off the swingset at the playground this morning. They echoed as I watched him run sprints back and forth across our backyard for no reason at all.

As I sit here and type this post, he's running back and forth between my room (where his shows are on T.V.) and the living room (where I'm watching the Amazing Race), all while donning a pair of underpants on his head.

I'm exhausted just watching him for the past few days, and I shutter to think of what the next week of "vacation" from school holds.

Ah... If I only had superpowers of my own...

Did You Know?

2010-11-11T22:39:00.008-05:00

Did you know that we actually own spoons? My daughter apparently thinks that the only way to sneak oatmeal from her cousin's bowl is by the fistful.

I caught her before she polished off the meal. But not before she left a 3 foot high trail of lumpy whole grains from the kitchen to the bathroom.

Did you know that I work very hard to set a good example of tidyness for my kids. "Everything has a place, everything in it's place", as my mom always says...

Did you know that there is not one single teenager living in this house?

Did you know that a dog could be as messy as a five-year old boy?

Did you know that a boy's defintion of cleaning up his S'mores ingredients is a whole lot different that his mom's instructions to clean up his S'mores ingredients before going outside to play?

Did you know that a dog can polish off an entire bag of marshmallows if they're not cleaned up properly?

Did you know that it only takes 3 pairs of undies, a copy of "Are You My Mother?" and a rubberband to make a mighty fine makeshift banjo...

Did you know that Miss M has recently grown slightly taller than my most recent baby-proofing preparations?

Did you know that Drew had a hard time finding his reading book tonight?

Did you know that, instead of reading, my son decided to throw his bouncy ball up against the wall?

Did you know that I've been putting my kids to bed a little early this week?

All He Wants For Christmas...

2010-11-08T09:17:00.002-05:00

With the next one set to fall out by the end of this week, do you think I can convince him that 2 front teeth would be WAY more fun than a Wii???

Playing Dress Up

2010-11-02T11:52:00.009-04:00

We knew it would be a weekend of playing dress-up. Obviously with Halloween on Sunday night, the majority of the population was in the mood for a little bit of costume fun. But our entire weekend was spent playing dress-up of some kind or another.

On Friday night, my family got together (brother's family, sister's family, parents, and all the grandkids) for a photo shoot at a nearby park. Although we haven't seen the pictures yet, we are really excited about capturing these "moments" on film. It was fun to dress up and coordinate the color scheme (I LOVE stuff like that), to see the baby girls all decked out in Christmas dresses and the boys with their hair combed - ha!

I'm so proud to call my family "mine". Each one of them sacrificed so much to attend a one-hour photo shoot. My dad, who can barely stand up any more for fear of passing out, made it through the whole thing... smiling (and sitting)! There were a few moments we were glad that we had to all squish in together tightly; it worked to help prop him up as well as make the picture look good! My brother's and sister's families made tremendous sacrifices to attend as well. I'm so grateful for the commitment everyone has to be there for eachother. They mean the world to me, and despite the short time I got to spend with them this weekend, it was precious time that I'll cherish.

On Saturday, as my husband was bringing the mail up from the mailbox, I noticed a white package in his hand. I was THRILLED to see the return address, knowing that THIS was inside the box (the outfit, not the baby...):

I was beyond excited to find this little number on etsy the other day!! My husband and I both attended Auburn University and are HUGE Tiger fans. It doesn't hurt that they're having such a great season, although based on Miss M's facial expressions as I took her picture, you'd think they had just lost their 7th game or something (Ahem... they are UNDEFEATED if you must know). Maybe she's just sad that we've never taken her to a game. Which is a crying shame, Miss M, I know!

On Sundays, we always play a little dress up for church, but this week, our sights were set on the dress-up that would follow a few hours later! Our church hosts a trunk or treat each year, and when I can, I like to volunteer to dress up our car and hand out treats. I'm a sucker for a "theme", so I was thrilled when the idea struck to dress my family as characters from the movie "UP".

With Drew's approval and enthusiasm, he and I spent the better part of last week creating our props. I was happy with how it turned out.

(The Car - with a colorful house and balloons tied to the roof rack, the car was transformed into the movie's main character)

(Drew as "Dug the talking dog" poses with a friend, whose mom is my great friend from Two Shades of Pink)

(I took on "Carl Fredricksen" and pose alongside "Dug" and "Kevin")

(And the best costume of our family was hands-down "Russell", played by Miss M)

(I still giggle every time I see these pictures!)

We had a ton of fun and got a ton of candy. And all that white hairspray came out of my hair in just 2 shampoo-ings!

It was a busy weekend, but I cherish the memories that were made during our dress-up days!

This Time Last Year...

2010-10-28T08:11:00.000-04:00

...I left my 6-day old newborn at home with Daddy and sped over to the hospital, where my sister-in-law and brother were having THEIR baby girl!

And today, I am a proud aunt to the prettiest little one-year old lady"bugg" ever!

Less than one week apart in age, Miss M and her cousin are already bosom buddies. We get to spend a few days a week with Miss A, and I LOVE watching the girls play "together".

They are different in size, stature, personality and poise. They are alike in their love of food, the big yellow dog and the rowdy entertaining Drew.

And they do have one other thing in common... both have this family totally wrapped around those darling little fingers!

Happy First Birthday, Miss A!! Your mom and I can't wait to throw you and your cousin some princess tea parties for birthdays to come!!

Post-Op Ponderings

2010-10-26T09:00:00.000-04:00

Two weeks ago today, my husband and I were sitting in a waiting room as surgeons operated on our son's brain and skull. We envisioned an immediate future of bandages, wounds, and lots of bedside TLC.

One week later, I left my son at his grandma's house with the following stern instructions:
"Be good.
Don't be rowdy.
Don't be loud.
Just sit and watch T.V. and play video games.
Don't run.
Don't pick things up.
Don't climb all over the couch.
Stay Calm.
Do you understand?"

In other words... all of the energy I stored up for being a bedside nurse has been used to calm down my very active, very-much-recovered five year old boy.

It's hard to believe that only 2 weeks after surgery, he can feel so good. He is off of virtually all his pain medicine. I don't know if he's even supposed to be off it, but he is. He's been working on school work and helping with chores around the house.

The past couple of weeks have been momentous for Drew in a lot of ways, but it's also been huge for this mama, too. When I have brief moments of quiet, I feel a bit overwhelmed by what we've been through. Not the surgery so much, but the response from all of you.

This year, we have already learned about just how gracious, caring and prayerful our friends are through my dad's illness. But bringing it even closer to home with Drew's ordeal, we have been absolutely humbled.

I feel the need for a new outlook on my response to others' sufferings. So, here's my list of "What To Do":

Pray
Go
Send

Prayer is powerful and effective. I could write a book about how I feel about prayer after this experience, but others have gone before me and penned more eloquent & theologically sound words than I ever could. I do know this... God hears our prayers and answers them. Whether or not it's the answer we're begging for, only He decides. For me, the power of the prayers was more about the relationship and conversation it gave me with God than the outcome that followed. I had no idea that kind of peace was possible as I said goodbye to my child in the halls of a surgical ward. But it was all-encompassing and undeniable.

So, from now on... I've resolved to earnestly pray when I tell someone I will. It's the greatest thing I can do for a friend.

When it's appropriate, I will make myself physically available to GO to others when they're going through a trial. We had several visitors at the hospital (including pastors from my church and my parents church). What a shot in the arm (the good kind, not the "owwee" kind!) for our boy to see our friends and his. It made the hospital more normal, less threatening. It did us all a world of good. We also had friends who came to our house after we got home. We were so grateful for everyone who set aside their schedules and errands and "to-do's" to just spend time visiting with us.

So, from now on... when it's appropriate to do so, I will go. (I realize that sometimes, visitors can be too stressful in certain situations. I pray for the sensitivity to ask before going and respond accordingly.)

And finally, I resolved to SEND something to those who are suffering. This is probably the easiest one to do. Because I'm not really talking about gifts (although we have generous friends who gave Drew some awesome treats!!). During Drew's hospitalization, we also received cards, letters, emails, Facebook comments, blog comments and texts. I realized how easy and meaningful a word of encouragement truly is. I was also astounded by how many people still send cards. With all the modern avenues of communication available, I was blown away to get Get-Well cards in the mail. WOW!

So, I'm going to stock up on cards and stamps. And make sure I keep my "unlimiting texting" plan!

I pray that God will continue to use this experience to teach our family about love, compassion and generosity. We have a lot to learn, and a great example has been set for us to follow.

Thank you.

Happy Birthday, Miss M!

2010-10-22T09:00:00.002-04:00

I cannot begin to wrap my brain around where this year has gone.

It's as if I've been duped by some great sleight-of-hand trickery. I've blinked, and "POOF", my baby is gone... and here stands (and walks and runs) a little girl.

Wearing the dresses I held up to my belly last year.
Playing with the dolls and teacups that I just unwrapped at her baby showers.
Outgrowing the shoes I never thought she'd get big enough to wear.
Eating her peas and carrots (and the dog's food when I'm not quick enough to stop her).

I'm walking down memory lane today, scratching my head in bewilderment as I go. Won't you join me?

What Can I Do?

2010-10-19T16:33:00.002-04:00

I'm working on a update of our family... sometimes it takes a while when I have something heartfelt that I've been pondering. Such is the case with my latest "Drew" update.

In the meantime, though, I have something infinitely more important to share with you.

A few months ago, a friend of mine started a blog entitled "143 Million Less One" (click HERE). You may remember her story if you've been reading my blog for a little while. She and her husband adopted a little boy from China around the same time Miss M was born last year.

I felt a connection with them from the moment I heard their story. God had placed a passion in their hearts to adopt, and they began a journey of faith. It just so happened that their journey to bring Liam home from China coincided with the impending arrival of Miss M last year - we were preparing for new babies together - it was so exciting!

Now, Nancy writes an earnest, touching and powerful blog highlighting orphans around the world who cling to a hope that their "forever family" is waiting, praying, and preparing to welcome them home, too.

Each time I read her blog, it makes a profound impression and charges me to ask myself some tough questions.

I believe you're up for the challenge, too. Please click HERE and read about another "one" who just found his forever family. I know the Greene family personally and want to help them bring Elijah home however I can. Maybe you can help them too.

So take a peek... and please leave Nancy a comment letting her know you stopped by!

We're Outta There!

2010-10-15T08:54:00.002-04:00

Guess I should update and let you know that we're home!

WE ARE HOME!!!!

Yesterday morning, the doctors burst into the room (they always burst into a room... that must be one of the classes required for med students) around 7am. Lights were turned on, flashlights poking around Drew's head and neck. We listened as they spoke in quick fragmented sentences to eachother and tried to pick up a word we understood here and there.

A few seconds later, they were done with their analysis and turned to me smiling.

"He looks great. We'll send you home today. He'll recover much more quickly there!"

And just like that, they were gone.

A few minutes later, one of the "team" members who'd just been part of the flurry of excitement, returned to me with a prescription for pain meds.

"So, you think we'll be out of here by dinnertime?" I asked.
"Oh no... your discharge papers are done. You'll be out of here before lunch."

And sure enough, we loaded our boy into the car around 11am and were home by lunchtime.

It's been a whirlwind since then, and a lot more stressful for mama. It's very hard to keep a 5 yr old inactive. The doctor was right... his improvement moved into the fast lane once we got home.

So, we started setting the timer on the microwave and banishing him to the couch or his room for 10 minute increments, trying desperately to get him to slow down!

Which is why I have been so bad about posting an update. This kid is keeping me very busy. And I'm so very grateful!!!

We are home!!!

On Our Way "Up!"

2010-10-13T05:35:00.004-04:00

It's the wee hours of the morning, and I can't sleep. I think I'm about to witness an amazing sunrise as a reward for my insomnia - the view out our hospital window cannot be beat. From where I sit, I can see the water just beyond the city's downtown buildings. And at the edge of the bay, there's a little airport that's busy with small planes and helicopters. Drew's going to love that in a day or so.

The boy is doing really well. I am amazed at how comfortable he seems. Each time the nurse asks about his pain (they use the smiley face chart... I'm sure you're familiar), he points to the little guy right next to the smiling one. "Just a little bit" is the only amount of pain he's reporting. Now, they have him hooked up to the best medicine in the world, but hey - it's working!!

I'm pleased to report that Drew is finally wearing pants again. "Phineas & Ferb" pajama bottoms if you must know. He's very proud of them, and I'm glad he feels a bit less exposed these days.

It's very quiet in his room, and he slept soundly from 9pm last night until about 2 o'clock this morning. With a good five hour nap, though, he woke us both up so we could "watch some movies!"

I curled up in his bed with him and we watched "UP". I had never seen it before, and we both thoroughly enjoyed it from beginning to end. After the movie was over, I convinced him to go back to sleep... but for some inexplicable reason, I'm still "UP".

But that's ok. The still, dark quiet of this room has been a great place for some reflection this morning. And most of my thoughts are steeped in gratitude. Gratitude to God for being so good to us. Gratitude that He loves Andrew even more than I do. Gratitude for my amazing family and friends. Gratitude that we are floating somewhere in the middle of the covering of God's protection and the safety net of your prayers and love.

So, thanks for keeping us "UP!"

I'm off to either catch a sunrise or a little shut eye.

(I put these on my Facebook page yesterday, but in case you didn't see them, I wanted to include them here as well):

When we arrived, Drew was very upset and anxious...

Then, the nurse gave him something called "Happy Juice". Ahh... much better!

During the procedure, his daddy and I killed time by checking emails and responding to the sweetest messages of love and prayers.

Post-op and in his room

Less than 2 hours after surgery, he manages to play a quick video game on the t.v. mounted on his wall. Very cool!

Surgery Day

2010-10-12T10:39:00.004-04:00

Update #2 - Around 1:00 p.m., we were finally able to see Drew. He looked so sweet - his color was good and he wasn't very swollen - both warmed this mama's heart. I think he'll have some more swelling in the days to come, but we're grateful for this moment. Great news came when we were informed we wouldn't have to spend the first 24 hours in ICU like the original schedule had ordered. We were admitted straight to "our room" for the remainder of our stay. Now, as of 7:15 p.m., we are comfortably settled and he has been sleeping on and off the majority of the afternoon. He even played a video game for about 5 minutes. The blessings keep coming!! (7:15 p.m.)

Update #1 - The surgery is over and he's doing well. Still waiting to see our boy. Surgeon had to do more work than expected, but we are praising God for the surgeon's steady hands and wise decisions. He believes Drew will have a full recovery. Will update again soon! (12:33 p.m.)

We are sitting in the hospital waiting area while the neurosurgeon is performing Drew's surgery.

I hope to update this post throughout the day with stories I don't want to forget.

You know, memorable things, like the fact that my 5 year old told 3 consecutive pastors (who came to visit and pray before we went into surgery) that, underneath the blankets and gown, he had no pants or underwear on.

Apparently, this was the most pressing issue on his mind. Gotta love that little boy!

Our first update was good. As of 10:45 a.m., he's still in surgery.

Prayer Requests

2010-10-05T22:48:00.003-04:00

We are gearing up this week for Drew's impending brain surgery. We originally thought he'd be in surgery on Monday, Oct. 11th, but we just received a call that it'll take place on Tuesday the 12th. We thank you in advance for your prayers over our family. We are at peace, and the boy is o.k. with it, too. (Not to say I won't be asking for the largest possible dosage of Valium for this kid on the day of his procedure...).

In the meantime, I would also like to ask you to pray for my dad and mom. As you may know, my dad's been fighting a disease called Amyloidosis this year. He was diagnosed in December of 2009, received a bone marrow transplant in February of this year, and has been going through a pretty tough chemo regimen for a few months.

At this point in the battle, his body is fatigued and weak. The visits to the hospital are growing more frequent.

Through it all, we have relied as a family on the all-sufficient knowledge that God is good and that He is in control. And your prayers really help us to rest in God's perfect plan for our family.

I plan to write a bit more about Drew's surgical plan as we get a little closer to next week.

Until then, thank you for praying for us! How can I pray for you???

The "after"

2010-09-29T22:32:00.004-04:00

We had a great time at the hair salon last night! I brought plenty of food, which kept Miss M quite content during her styling.

After a relatively uneventful 15 minutes in the chair, my sweet thing came out with an adorable little "bob":

I love my style, too. What I don't love is posting a picture of myself, but I feel obligated now, so... just don't look too closely at all those WRINKLES!!! Yikes!

New Do's

2010-09-28T10:58:00.003-04:00

This evening, my daughter and I have a double-date at the hair salon. How fun!!

It will not be her first haircut. Since birth, my girl has had a full head of hair, and her Grandma has been her stylist until now. She gets her bangs cut every couple of weeks, but it's finally growing past the "manageable" stage. It is so long that I pulled it back into a pony tail last night. A rather long ponytail. Before long, I'm going to be piling it on top of her head in one of those "chip clips" like I do with mine every morning.

In other words, it's time to do something!

So, I went online today (like I normally do when I'm trying to find inspiration for my own hair) and searched crazy websites that I normally do not find myself purusing. I actually typed in a search for "Suri Cruise". After looking over the images for a few minutes, I realized I was so saddened by the constant glass house that poor little girl lives in that I wasn't even looking at her haircut. So, I navigated away to the Duggars website on TLC (I figured that was the easiest way to find about 10 different toddler looks in one visit).

I narrowed down my selections for her, then moved on to choose my new "do". I printed up a few looks to show my stylist tonight. After reviewing the images I chose, I might be putting undo pressure on her. Celebrities, Brazilian supermodels... poor lady is my hairstylist, not my fairy godmother.

But a girl can dream. And having a little girl to share these experiences with is a dream come true!

Me... Before (Pigtails?!?! In your mid-30's, this isn't a good look)

Miss M... Before (Pigtails when you're a baby, now that's adorable!)

Stay tuned for our "after" pictures...coming soon!

Kindergarten Lesson, Part 2

2010-09-27T10:08:00.003-04:00

More things we're learning in Kindergarten:

1. You can tell a lot about what your kid did in school if you just send them there in a pristine white uniform shirt. (i.e. what color markers he used on his project, what he ate for snack and lunch, how rough he was on the playground, etc.)

2. White uniform shirts are the least popular among parents.

3. If you casually mention you don't like the Star Wars book your child checked out of the library last week, you can be assured he'll bring home a completely different choice the next week. A BIGGER Star Wars book with scarier pictures... just because he thinks you need to give it a second chance.

4. You should only keep a five-year old home from school if they are really sick. Tired and "sorta sick" only lasts about an hour. After that, you have an active sidekick all day long who's used to doing 15 activities per day, rotating to the next one every 45 minutes.

5. When moms get tired and "sorta sick", it takes a lot longer than an hour to turn things around.

Happy Monday! Hope you all learn something new this week, too!

The Lemonade Stand

2010-09-18T20:21:00.004-04:00

I had run out of excuses not to do it.

For 2 months, my son had been begging to set up a lemonade stand in our driveway, and I was less than enthusiastic about the idea.

I am not a sales person at heart. I don't like asking for money (even a quarter toward a glass of that sweet summertime staple).

So, when Drew said he wanted the lemonade to be "FREE!", I finally gave in.

He made the sign.

I made the beverages.

We lugged a table and chair outside, along with a cooler for ice. We set up the pitcher, cups, and an umbrella for shade.

Then we waited for our first customer.

A big shiny silver Mercedes drove past our house first. I could tell the driver was slowing down to read our sign. A few moments later (he'd apparently circled the block), he pulled up again and rolled down his window.

The shy smile on my son's face was priceless, and I wondered for a moment if he was about to chicken out on the whole deal.

"How much, son?" the man asked.
"It's FREE!" Andrew replied.

"You can't give away lemonade! I'll take 2 glasses. And this is just a donation. One for you and one for your little sister."

Drew poured a couple of sloppy cups and handed them through the car window to the man and his passenger. He took the two dollars and (with urgent prompting from his momma) thanked his first customers profusely.

We sat back down in the shade of our umbrella and discussed his first "sale" of the day. We practiced two new words: "Customers" and "generous" - because he'd certainly just experienced both.

For the next hour and a half, we sat on the driveway and talked, poured lemonade, took a couple more donations here and there from some "generous customers", but mostly just gave away our drinks for "FREE!". We met new neighbors and reconnected with some we hadn't seen in months. We watched the chocolate Drew brought outside melt in the hot sun.

And after 13 customers were served, we packed up our lemonade stand and called it a day.

I don't know what my beef used to be about Lemonade Stands.
After our experience this past weekend, I have a new outlook:

"If Life Hands You a Sam's Club-sized Canister of Countrytime mix... Make Lemonade!"

Kindergarten Lessons

2010-09-15T17:18:00.003-04:00

(otherwise known as Drew's answers to "What Did You Learn In School Today?")

1. You must keep all 4 feet of your chair on the ground. No one wants to bump their head on the first day of school!

2. Some girls just want to be left alone.

3. Some girls just want to be your friend.

4. Some girls will inform you that you're their boyfriend. If you don't even know what a boyfriend is, that's ok. The girl probably knows.

5. Library books must be kept away from water, dirt, food, pets and little sisters.

6. "Hola" is the Spanish word for "hello".

7. "Underarms" is the Spanish word for "armpits"

8. The clinic will give you an ice pack if you scrape your knee.

9. The clinic will also give you an ice pack if you bump your head on the playground.

10. The clinic isn't really the best place to go if you have back pain (perhaps you should just sit against the wall).

11. If one of your classmates is having a hard day, the whole day will be about that kid for everyone.

12. Every mommy in the whole world sends money for Friday slushies.

*disclaimer - these truly are his answers to what he's learned in school. Fortunately, not all the events have happened to Drew personally. Unfortunately a lot of them have...

Well, He IS learning something...

2010-09-09T16:09:00.002-04:00

"What's a city council, Mom?"

This is the question I got from my five-year old as we were driving down the road the other day.

"What did you ask?"

"A city council. What is it? What does it do?"

"Umm...." I begin with a brief explanation of local politics then pause.

"I just have to know, buddy... where in the WORLD did you learn that? Is this something you're talking about in school?" (I'm hopeful... after all, he's in an excellent school this year and really is learning a lot after only 3 weeks).

"Oh, I saw it on Phinease & Ferb the other day."

And they say television is a waste of time.

Those Florida Bugs

2010-09-04T20:04:00.003-04:00

It's been said that the bugs here in Florida can grow to be outrageous in size.

For instance, look what I found flitting around my driveway the other day:

I mean, that is just ridiculous, right?

Good thing I have a brave bug-catcher around!

Things were going so well...

2010-09-03T22:21:00.004-04:00

Things were going so well yesterday morning.

After waking him from a sound sleep, I reminded Drew that he was not going to school, but we were to spend the day at All Children's Hospital for his follow-up MRI and second appointment with the neursurgeon (about his recently diagnosed Chiari Malformation... a malformation of the base of his brain).

He got dressed calmly and seemed at peace with what lay ahead. Knowing full well that our little boy did not like needles (Drew made a lasting impression at the radiology center we went to in July when it took four adults to hold our panicked, screaming child to the gurney while they inserted an IV for sedation), I was pleased that he seemed so emotionally stable.

We made small talk in the car as our family of four traveled south on the interstate toward the hospital. And while we checked in and completed paperwork, Drew enjoyed an episode of Phineas and Ferb on the waiting room's television.

Things were going so well...

And then our son's name was called. I stood up to take him back while Daddy offered to stay in the lobby with Miss M. As we passed through the enormous double doors that led down a stark hallway, I heard the distinct whine of panic setting in. By the time we got to a room, Drew was in shambles. Sobbing hysterically, he began clawing, clinging and begging. The sweet nurse tried to reassure him. I tried to redirect him. Nothing worked. So, between his hysterical pleas to go home and his 587 questions about what the nurse was doing every time she moved a muscle, we managed to get an IV needle placed and taped to his arm.

Because of a backup in the MRI lab, we were sent (Drew in his little scrubs) back out to the lobby until a machine became available. This was a good time to regroup with Daddy and Megan and calm down a bit. The baby was toddling around the waiting area, as doctors, nurses, and hospital staff oohed and ahhed over her pig tails and chunky thighs.

Things were going so well...

And then a familiar odor caught our attention. I tried to pawn diaper-changing duty off on my poor husband (after all, Drew and I could be called back for his MRI at any moment), and it almost worked until I realized that I had neglected to pack a single solitary diaper in my bag. I had formula, bottles, wipes, a change of clothes, various toys, several snack selections, and a few good books, but NO diapers.

So, I sent Daddy to the gift shop where he said he'd seen several baby-related necessities early. He was sure that they'd have diapers, too. "Size 4!" I called out after him, and then turned back to tend to my 2 kids.

They were busily playing together near the big wall recognizing all the important benefactors of the hospital.

Things were going so well...

Until I noticed a little something on the floor next to my squatting toddler. "Oh NO!" I thought. "It can't be!" But it was. The contents of her diaper had exceeded it's capacity and were now contaminating the pristine, sterile floors of the hospital's busy thoroughfare.

I quickly grabbed wipes and began to clean up the floor and my child, fervently praying that the deliverer of diapers would be back soon. At that exact moment, I looked up with relief to see my husband walking back toward me. The relief quickly disappeared when I noticed that he was empty-handed.

"They didn't have size 4. They had size 5 diapers with overnight protection. Do you think that will work?"

A few hours later, I realized how close my husband came in that moment to losing a limb. Surely he could surmise from my position on all fours, wiping the floor with baby wipes and holding my 23 lb toddler awkwardly upside-down over one shoulder that pretty much ANYTHING would be better than the current situation. I think I actually responded with, "Size 5 will be fine!"

Once the baby was cleaned up and changed, we went back toward our waiting room where we listened to some beautiful piano music and watched a little more t.v. Drew had settled down nicely with all the distractions of the lobby.

Things were going so well...

And then our pager went off, summoning us back to the MRI station. Within milliseconds, Drew was a basketcase again. Hysterical, sobbing, clinging and clawing his way up my body, he challenged my deepest resolve to maintain some semblance of authority and order while speaking with the kind, sympathetic anesthesiologist. Seeing what a mess my child was, she asked me to carry him to the doors of the imaging room and hold him while they administered the sedative that would put him, mercifully, into a deep sleep. He clung to me, all the while asking the doctors the same questions over and over again... shouting them directly into my ear as I did my best to hold him still. I couldn't see if they were anywhere NEAR getting the medication pushed through the IV, but I finally felt his little body go limp. I breathed a sigh of relief as I handed him over to the wonderful staff so they could take pictures of his spinal cord and brain.

And I headed out to join the rest of my family in the main lobby. We had several hours to kill and enjoyed a nice quiet lunch at the cafeteria, followed by a walk through the gift shop (I can pretty much find a reason to shop anywhere at any time apparently). Then we let Miss M have the run of the corridors. She took full advantage of the wide open spaces, stumbling around while carrying my cell phone up to her head. She was adorable and an amazing distraction as we waited.

Drew came out of his anesthesia like a champ. A loopy champ who'd maybe been hit around the head a little too much, but a champ nonetheless. He got Gatorade in the color of his choice and a Coca Cola flavored ICEE when we left the radiology department. We made perfect time in order to get to his appointment with the neurosurgeon.

Once we arrived and checked in with neurosurgery, we were immediately ushered back to a room where Drew was offered a root beer flavored lollipop (his favorite!) by an incredibly nice physician's assistant. It wasn't long until the doctor came in to speak with us. We caught him up on Drew's symptoms since we'd seen him last and let him know that, despite some headaches, frequent urination and tingling in his extremities,

things were going so well.

Unfortunately, Drew's MRI images (taken only an hour before) were already up on the doctor's computer screen. And his findings were, in his words, "Worrisome" and "Concerning". The bottom line was that our boy needs surgery to correct his Chiari Malformation. And he needs it relatively soon.

We received a lot of details about what his malformation was affecting, how it could best be resolved, and when they would like to get it done.

We are looking to schedule the surgery sometime between late September and early November. And after about a six week total recovery period, we are really looking forward to things going well again sometime soon!

She's A Little Bit Me...

2010-08-29T20:59:00.003-04:00

Her favorite shoes are sparkly silver ballet slippers.
And if you didn't think a ten-month old could have a favorite pair of shoes, you were not at my house this morning when I considered taking the aforementioned slippers off of my child in favor of more practical tennis shoes.

Her favorite hobby is carrying around a bag and putting "stuff" in it.
She slings it as high as she can manage, almost over her shoulder. Yes, like a purse.

She oohs and ahhs over necklaces and earrings, and she will point out a nice watch from twenty paces.

And every morning, we stand in front of her closet so she can run her hand across the clothes hanging in front of her.

This couldn't have happened soon enough. With awards season underway, I need a 2nd vote for T.V. rights. There's no reason I should know the baseball score but not have any idea what Heidi Klum is wearing tonight...

Excuse Me?

2010-08-18T10:29:00.012-04:00

Excuse me, young man?

Yes, you!

I hate to bother you...

I can tell you have a lot of work to do, and this is quite a big day for you...

BUT, I was wondering if you've seen my little boy?
You see, he was just here, and then I turned away for a minute and now I can't seem to find him!

Maybe you've seen him?
It's kinda funny.
He looks an awful lot like you.

Well, anyway!
You just let me know if you run into my little boy, OK?

Happily "Edited" After

2010-08-16T21:19:00.006-04:00

We took a trip this past weekend. It was sort of our "Last Hurrah" of the summer. We scooted on over to Orlando for a fun-filled stay at one of our favorite resorts.

One of the perks of living in a tourist mecca is that you quickly learn how to do the tourist thing yourself, but cheaply!

So, last weekend, we planned a trip that only had one thing on the agenda:

Stay & Play At Hotel

There are so many activities to do at this particular resort that there is really no need to leave the grounds. And we resolved to stay put and enjoy ourselves for 2 nights and 3 activity-filled days.

We were so thrilled when we arrived. Except that our room wasn't quite ready. But we checked our bags and headed toward the pool. An hour later, we checked with the front desk. No luck.
After 3 hours of keeping the kids busy without the luxury of luggage or a room close at hand, we finally settled into an upgraded (for all our trouble, thank you very much) room with a view of all the theme park fireworks shows. Good enough. (Except that Drew refused to even look out the window either night, fearing the loud noise and bright lights of the spectacle.)

We ventured out of our hotel the first night to dinner and to visit one particularly well known theme park's downtown shopping district and legendary Lego store. At dinner, Miss M spilled my husband's soda all over both of them and the waitress. After finishing their food in their wet, stained clothing, we headed out. After parking miles away from our final destination, Drew spent a grand total 3 minutes playing before he decided that the venue was too dark and too crowded and way too hot.

So, we found a great little show at the ampitheater, hoping our boy would enjoy a rousing, audience-participating dance fest. He sat in the baby's stroller instead. Luckily, Miss M found the entertainment absolutely delight, and she moved and grooved to the Chicken Dance and the YMCA on her daddy's shoulders.

With an exhausted and unenthusiastic little guy on our hands, we decided to call it a night and head back to the hotel. On our mile-long walk back to the car, my back went out. I couldn't walk in any position except completely doubled over. So, my accommodating hubby dropped me off at the entrance to the grand lobby, where I shuffled like Grandma Mable to the glass elevators and managed to crawl to a steaming hot shower for some relief.

That night, as I finally found a comfortable sleeping position, Miss M awoke the entire floor, announcing that the teething medicine and Ibuprofen had WORN OFF! It took 15 anxious minutes to calm her down. I could almost hear the businessmen and women down our corridor cursing. We finally calmed her down and got her back to sleep, but it took a while for mama & daddy's nerves to calm down as well.

We woke early with a new resolve to make up for our rough start. We dressed and headed down to the breakfast buffet. Considering that we hoped to make it a "Cheap" weekend, we couldn't justify spending $20 pp on breakfast. So, we once again ventured off the property of the hotel to find a suitably priced meal.

Upon returning, we were able to get some swimming, kayaking, putt putt-ing, and arcade-game playing in before lunch. Wanting to give our kids the "Mouse-House" experience without going to the parks, we headed back to the theme park's shopping/dining/entertainment boardwalk for some lunch. We chose a wild, child-friendly themed restaurant. Drew laid his head on my lap and closed his eyes the entire time.

We were eagerly anticipating the afternoon, though, as my brother and his wife were coming to hang out poolside with us and enjoy the amenities. As they arrived, a colossal Florida thunderstorm rolled in, too. It stayed as long as they did. So, instead of bike-riding, volleyball-playing and rock-wall-climbing, we sat in the lobby of the hotel's downstairs conference room facilities and let the babies crawl on the plush carpet.

After a nice dinner out (where we had to battle traffic and monsoon rains), my brother's family left. The clouds rolled away and the sun came back out for the remaining 30 minutes of daylight.
So, Drew and I headed down to the pool. We stuck our feet in the hot tubs and the cold water and talked a little about the start of Kindergarten. About 15 minutes into our "swimming", Drew announced that he'd like to go upstairs and watch some baseball with his daddy.

We settled in for the second and final evening of our stay. At approximately 11 p.m., after the fireworks show that no one would watch was over, Miss M woke up screaming again. She was absolutely inconsolable for 10 minutes.

That was when I made the call.

"I'm done," I stated. "Take her downstairs. I'm packing the bags. We're outta here."
My husband, at his wits' end too, gladly obliged. With screaming infant in hand, he headed out the door, through the hallway, down the elegant glass elevators, and through the luxurious lobby, apologizing as he went.

I scooped up everything I could and began throwing it into bags. Dirty clothes, wet bathing suits, sodas and souvenirs were heaped into whatever open luggage would house them. I woke a sleeping Drew from his slumber and put him into the stroller. He began to cry as he realized that his little vacation was coming to an abrupt, late-night end. He, too, cried all the way out of the room, through the hallway, down those same elevators, and past the same courteous staff (who were, I am pretty sure, waving goodbye rather enthusiastically).

And almost exactly at the stroke of midnight, our beautiful carriage turned back into a pumpkin, and pulled out of the resort's gates.

I tried to make small talk with my husband on the way home about the ordeal of the last two days. But he wasn't up for much small talk. I understood. So, with bitter, steaming coffee in hand, we just drove west in silence until we were home sweet home.

With a few days of perspective, the trip doesn't seem quite so bad anymore. The mind is a great editor. The bad memories and mishaps often fade with time. The good stuff mostly remains.

And with a few great pictures and some creative editing, I can ensure that this vacation goes down in the memory book as a fairy tale!

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

One (Almost) Down.. 19 More to Go.

2010-08-11T16:40:00.003-04:00

I wiped her eye to remove some crusted sweet potatoes last night. She screamed so loud that I gave her a full-body scan to see what could possibly be broken or bleeding.

After crying herself to sleep, she woke up, remembered how mad she got earlier at me, and threw another fit. I rescued her from her crib just as the hysteria caused her to puke all over both of us.

I cleaned us up, fixed her a bottle, and rocked her back to sleep.

Six more times she awoke throughout the night, screaming as if her hair was on fire.

I called my mom this morning, and we went through a laundry list of possible causes. Yogurt or chlorine water from the pool (both of which she consumed yesterday) could be causing tummy troubles. And her brother did have a runny nose this week. She could be coming down with a misery-making bug.

Whatever the cause, she was a pitiful picture all day today as well. She cried when I walked into a room and cried when I left. She screamed every time her brother got within a foot of her, and sobbed when a chair fell over (nowhere near her, I might add). She wailed as I tried to bathe away her sorrows and fussed over her afternoon bottle.

During one sobbing gasp, I finally got to see what was causing all her angst. The telltale white "bump" under her lower gum shone from a foot away.

My little girl's very first tooth is about to make it's debut. And apparently, she thinks it's worthy of quite the show.

Part of me is relieved to know what's wrong with my wee one. The other part of me just googled "How Many Teeth Does a Baby Get?"

Apparently, we have a long road ahead of us so I'm stocking up on teething tablets and Tylenol.

And booking this girl her own agent.

Nine Months

2010-08-07T23:17:00.007-04:00

For the first six months of her life, I captured Miss M's growth by taking her picture next to the same little brown bear on the same polka dot blanket. You may recall that by six months, she was outgrowing the bear and the blanket!

I haven't posed her with her props recently because we rarely remember to pause for a picture. Everyone is just busy going... going... going.

I guess with all that moving around on our parts, Miss M took the hint. And since that last picture was taken, she's been working on MOVING.

At six months old, she finally found her balance and began to sit.
By seven months (and way behind the curve) she decided that she might as well roll over.
At eight months, she slowly (and UNgracefully) picked up the crawling thing from her two cousins (who have been moving for months now!)

Yes, she was a little girl on the move.. and into trouble!

(who me?)

But all that moving around did not prepare me for what she had up her sleeve last week. Late one night (and way past her bedtime) when she thought no one was watching, my little baby walked to me.

Walked. To. Me.

I made such a big deal about it that she shut down and went back to crawling for about a week and a half before she got up the nerve to try it again.

But today at the mall playground, she threw caution to the wind. For the rest of the day, it was all we could do to keep up. She has conquered the playground, the bowling alley, the living room and the kitchen tile. She can go barefoot or with shoes, as long as there's a snack and a smile waiting somewhere down the line.

And the girl we thought would be our laid-back baby forever has surpassed her big brother's walking milestone by almost a month.

I stayed up way too late playing with a new website a friend recommended called Animoto. I just wanted you to be able to share in our excitement. So, I hope you enjoy my feeble first attempt at creating a video!

There's something so cute about that stumbling and lurching that is typical of a new walker. Kinda like Godzilla terrorizing the village.

Only in our case, Godzilla's village consists of a 5-yr old boy who must save his video games and action figures from impending destruction.

Enjoy!

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

grow up!

2010-08-04T14:44:00.002-04:00

SHRIIIIIEEEEKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AGH!

No, Go AWAY!

Ewwwwwwww...................

What are you DOING in there?

There's a roach! There's a roach! A big one!

Well, then... just try to kill it.

I can't! I can't!

Find the roach spray.

I don't know where it is!

Then go get a shoe and hit it.

I won't do that! I'm not that brave!

Alright... (overdramatic sigh)... I'll be right there.

*******************************

In an effort to be completely transparent, there's something I must let you know about this conversation between me and my five year old son.

The italics were his words... and the bold ones were mine. And this was a verbatim conversation that took place between us yesterday afternoon.

Yeah, he's looking for a place of his own this week. Something quiet, a little less dramatic. I'll just call him to come over when I need him to squish a bug for me.

Summer Fun - Photo Scavenger Hunt

2010-07-21T14:29:00.002-04:00

For the past two years, Drew and I have been documenting his summer activities with a little binder we created.

At the beginning of June, we sat down with a pile of magazines and cut out ideas, recipes and pictures of games that we'd like to try over the coming weeks.

We've made ice cream, gone to amusement parks, and played many rounds of putt putt golf. There are times, though, when I really need some creative ideas for my boy to do ON HIS OWN. After all, the laundry (no matter how many times I yell at it) does not fold itself.

So, I was thrilled the other day when my friend Jessica at Two Shades of Pink posted a great idea about sending your kids on a photo scavenger hunt. I couldn't wait to try it out!

I made a list... some items were written out (3-letter words and sight words that he can read), and I drew pictures of other items for him to find. With list and camera in hand, Drew set out on his photo hunt adventure.

Red:

Car:

Dog:

Sock:

the number "3":

Megan:

Tree:

Water:

To make things a little harder, after Drew finished checking most of the items off his list, I challenged him to find things that started with certain letters of the alphabet. He had fun being creative with this assignment:

For "A", he found an Apron:

For "B", there were no surprises as he found a Ball:

And with "C", he cleverly captured his own countenance (... orrrrr C stands for his middle name!):

You can check out more ideas for the photo scavenger hunt on Jessica's blog, where she also encouraged me to print the pictures from our hunt for Drew to keep.

I think we'll store them in his Summer Fun binder.

What ideas have you come up with to keep your kids busy this summer?

What a Pair...

2010-07-20T11:11:00.005-04:00

Whether she's dangling precariously from her big brother's arms as he hauls her from one room to the next or she's just putting up with his latest, greatest idea for a new game...

She just grins.

She gets no privacy. No personal time. No quiet naps. No toys of her own. He is set on being a part of every waking moment (and some of the sleeping ones, too) of this little girl's life.

And she just smiles.

I assume that the day will come when he won't be thrilled to find her in the middle of his room playing with his matchbox cars.

And I'm guessing she'll eventually be grossed out by his antics, jokes, or smelly socks.

But for now, he is the clown,

and she has the best seat in the big top.

Two New Words

2010-07-14T14:57:00.002-04:00

We met with the neurosurgeon at All Children's Hospital today. All in all, the appointment went very well. We received a diagnosis and got to ask the doctor many questions.

Drew has something called Chiari Malformation. Basically, the base of his brain (the cerebellum) extends down past where a normal person's brain would stop. Therefore, it's creating a sort of cork at the base of his skull which hinders the flow of important spinal fluids up and down the spinal column and around his brain.

Because the cerebellum controls functions like balance, the doctor was most interested in whether Drew was having any trouble with gross motor skills like walking, running, jumping, standing still.

With a new sense of gratitude in our hearts, we assured the doctor that this boy was ALL BOY and was very active and healthy. Besides the headaches, we couldn't think of any other symptoms that could have led us to suspect this condition.

(Since then we've put together a few other things that we just didn't think about right there in the office... like, his legs fall asleep all the time, much more often than other kids we know, and it causes him brief moments of intense pain).

After speaking with Drew and asking him to perform a few "tricks" for him, the doctor looked at us, grinning. "He is doing remarkably well!" He went on to say that, by looking at the MRI images, he would have been very concerned for the child the images belonged to. But in looking at our boy, live and in person, he was greatly encouraged.

One thing I am most grateful for was his conservative, sympathetic approach to the treatment options. He told us that he could do surgery. He could make the "picture (referring to MRI image) look prettier", but if the condition was having such little affect on Drew, he was reluctant to do something just to make his brain "look" more normal.

So, in about six weeks, we'll go back to the hospital for a day of tests, including a full MRI of his spine (we need to see whether spinal fluid is being inhibited from flowing properly by that "cork effect" I mentioned).

At that point, we'll talk about the surgery v. wait-and-see approach.

As we left the office, Drew said, "Well, that was fun!"
He asked if we could do something special on our way home! "Sure!" my husband and I replied, as I tossled the mop of blonde hair on his well-studied head.

I think at that point, we would have bought him a Wii.
I'm glad we held off on our offers, because he was thrilled with a dollar in the lobby's vending machine and the pack of spearmint gum it spit out.

So, that was today in a nutshell. A lot of new information, but our hearts are just abounding with grateful praise. We know it could be much worse, and we thank God for protecting our boy these last five years from more significant symptoms. We're thankful for a kind, smart doctor and for the prayers and thoughtful wishes of all our friends!

Two Words

2010-07-08T20:57:00.003-04:00

They were just two words.

But as my husband so succinctly put it the other day, those two words "just changed the game".

About two weeks ago, Drew began suffering from severe and frequent headaches. When he'd experienced five such headaches in five days, I called his pediatrician. They saw us that afternoon.

After a complete exam and many questions about his symptoms, his doctor referred us to a radiology center for an MRI to be performed. Because of his age (and the need for patients to lie perfectly still while the 45 minute procedure is performed), Drew had to be put under sedation for his brain scan. (That was a whole story unto itself, but it'll have to be for another day...)

And just like things seem to go for us, once he had the MRI, his headaches disappeared. Not a one since. We have been very grateful. I actually thought that when we brought his MRI results to the follow-up visit with the pediatric neurologist, they'd dismiss us with a diagnosis like, "Your kid just got a few headaches. Nothing wrong. Go home and enjoy your life."

Apparently, my husband was thinking along the same lines, because that was the "game" he had in his head, too.

So, you can imagine our surprise when I received a phone call from the pediatrician's office. According to the neurologist, who'd had a chance to review the images of Andrew's brain, there was a "small malformation", something they'd be more comfortable sending us to a neurosurgeon to review.

I grabbed a small post-it note and began scribbling. "Small malformation". "Structural Issue". That's all I wrote because it's all she could tell me. That, and the information for our new appointment with one of All Children's Hospital's pediatric neurosurgeons on Wednesday, July 14.

As I hung up the phone, I did the only thing I knew to do if I was going to make it the 8 more days until our appointment. I literally bowed my head and held up my hands. I think I just needed, in that moment, to physically give this one to God. Let me tell you, friends.... there is nothing like that "peace that passes all understanding" unless you experience it for yourself.

I called David a few minutes later and shared what I had been told. I'm so grateful to God for a smart, level-headed spouse. His response was, "Well, I guess that changes the game."

So, we're in pre-game warmups (read: praying a lot) and would love for you to join our team.

And until we know more, we're trusting "I AM". Because those two words will trump any doctor's two words any day.

My 4ths

2010-07-04T22:42:00.004-04:00

When I was 12 years old, I spent the 4th of July at my grandparents house in South Carolina. The rest of my family had returned to Florida, but I was finally old enough to stay by myself for a while. With scores of cousins within a five mile radius, I had a phenomenal holiday weekend. That is, of course, until two of my cousins crashed into eachother while riding some little motorcycles my Papa owned. We spent the evening of Independence Day in the emergency room, as xray machines scanned for and counted up various broken bones. We were grateful that the injuries weren't more serious, and everyone recovered so well that the night still lives on in laughed-over stories every time we see eachother.

When I was 13 or 14 years old, we watched the fireworks down below our airplane as we flew home from a family vacation to Hawaii. I don't recall the pyrotechnic display very well, but I do remember the severe jetlag we all experienced. Upon our return home that evening, everyone went to his own room, unpacked, and settled in for bed. A few hours later, around 2am, we were all sitting on my parents' bed, laughing, talking and lamenting the fact that the jetlag was going to be a killer when time finally caught up with us!

When I was 16 years old, my sister and I spend our country's birthday in France (I know, I'm making it sound like we were world travelers, but it was just a couple of busy summers, I guess). Although I made decent grades in high school and my sister by all accounts is incredibly smart, we still managed to make ourselves look like a couple of dumb blonde teenagers when we asked what our French host family's plans were for the 4th. "Umm... pourquoi?"

When I was 20 years old, I asked my parents to invite my boyfriend's family over to help us celebrate the holiday. And I silently prayed that he would find a moment to sneak me away amidst the romantic and dramatic fireworks display to pop "the question". He didn't. But that weekend he did sneak away for a private lunch with my dad to ask for my hand in marriage. Three weeks later, my hubby of 12 years DID ask me to marry him by popping the question on a beautiful beach at sunset.

At 25 years old, I sat with my hubby and our first little one (the dog), watching fireworks from the driveway of our first home. We purchased one of those houses that made me think of the song, "Little Boxes" by Malvina Reynolds every time I pulled down our street. I'm not sure they were made out of ticky tacky, but they all looked just the same. It was the perfect place to start, and my memories of 3 summers there are fond ones.

Two summers ago, we spent the evening watches six different beach cities' shows from our perch along the shore of the Gulf of Mexico with my husband's family. My firstborn (Drew... not the dog) sat still with his uncle's Coast Guard earphones covering his entire head as the rest of the cousins danced around with sparklers. A few weeks ago, while we were picnicking together during our trip to Alabama, we laughed over the big hole in my brother-in-law's big picnic blanket... left over from an errant sparkler "spark" that night.

And tonight, I reflect on another great holiday for the memory book. We started the way I vote to start every 4th of July from now on... at church! Then we made our way to my parents' house where we ate hot dogs and played pool games and video games until Miss M (and Aunt Emmy) crashed. Tonight, we just hung out together as a family. Drew and the dog whimpered in various corners of the house every time a boom was heard. My hubby and I rolled our eyes at the pair of them then snuck out of the house to watch the neighborhood show after everyone was settled into bed.

And since the holiday has been extended into tomorrow for my husband's job, we're going to get up in the morning and just keep on celebrating.

I always think a birthday should be drawn out for days anyway.

Happy Birthday, America!

2010-06-30T14:17:00.002-04:00

I promised a few good stories from the VBS (Vacation Bible School) we participated in last week.

In case you don't have a five-year old boy in your house, or it's been a while since yours was my son's age... I might need to offer some sort of warning about the subject matter of this post.

In case you have a five-year old boy in your house, or the memories stay fresh even years later... you probably won't even blink an eye.

We were driving home midweek from another fun day of games, crafts, activities and Bible stories, and I asked Drew how his class went.

"Great!" he said. "Although, I think I did have a lot of gas today in my tummy."

"Um. Why."

"Because I certainly was farting a lot."

"Oh, Drew.... that is not good at all. It's a very rude thing to do!!!"

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Mommy... what does RUDE mean?"

"It means to not be polite. When you're polite, it makes the people around you happy."

"Oh, well then, Mommy, I was being polite because it made LOTS of people happy!!!"

"I was not referring to the other five-year old boys, son."

"Oh..."

Needless to say, I dropped my son off the next day with a more humble demeanor and a quiet "thank you" for what the teachers of the Kindergarten class go through for three hours each day.

HOWDY!!!

2010-06-25T15:18:00.003-04:00

Yeehaw! I'm back.

From where?

Oh, somewhere out on the range...

...corraling a bunch of ten year olds through the perimeters of Saddle Ridge Ranch.

For those of you who may think I might actually be on some exciting vacation to the western frontier, I must tell you that my life isn't near that adventurous.

But I DID just finish guiding a group of 5th graders through a week of VBS (Vacation Bible School) at my church, where the theme ("Saddle Ridge Ranch") was along the cowboy, lasso, covered wagon genre.

I'm exhausted from all this western week, but in that really good exhausted way.

I have so many stories to share, but if you have ever participated in a VBS before, you know that it takes about all your energy to stay upright in your spare time. So, the stories will come next week.

But for now, I just want you to know that the angels are having a big old heavenly hoedown right now because I got to know a boy this week who asked Jesus to be in charge of his life today!

YeeHAW!!!!

I'll leave you with that for now...

Happy Trails 'til next week!

Just When You Think You Have It All Together

2010-06-10T23:59:00.002-04:00

I'm a good planner. I'm not a tidy or organized person, but I have good plans and great intentions.

So, when I embarked for the airport yesterday, I had a great plan in place for flying solo with two small children.

By foregoing checked baggage and carrying on all our luggage, I saved quite a bit on airfare. By choosing seats in the back of the plane, I saved even more money on our tickets. By arriving late to the airport, we were able to practically walk right onto the plane without having to wait and answer the "When are we going?" question 50 times from my five-year-old. And by charging up his DVD player and packing 17 movies, I ensured a quiet, fun-filled flight for at least one of my children.

One logistical maneuver was conspicuously missing from my amazing plan, however. That is, I never determind how I was going to get my two small children and four pieces of carry-on luggage to the very back of the plane at the end of boarding when everyone else was already seated in a sold-out flight and the aisles were no wider than the hips my baby girl was perched on. Hmmm....

We boarded the plane and greeted the first flight attendant before I realized my oversight. Staring out at a sea of sleepy, grumpy passengers crammed into the aircraft, I took a deep breath and slung my suitcase around to my back, hoisted Miss M and the diaper bag high up onto my left hip, and grabbed Drew's rolling suitcase in my right hand and held it out directly in front of me. I plastered a smile on my face, and began simultaneously giving out instructions and apologies:

OK, Drew, all the way to the back of the plane!
Keep going, Buddy! To Aisle 27!
So sorry, Sir.
Pardon me, Ma'am.
Did that bag just hit you.
Watch your hands.
I'm fine, thanks!
Keep going, Drew. We aren't even close.
Oops... I'm sorry.
Thank you, yes, just be careful.
Coming through.
Pardon me, excuse me.
So sorry.
Nope, buddy, that's aisle 10. Keep walking straight back.
Are you ok?
If I hit anyone else, I apologize ahead of time!
Yeah, if I could just squeeze by... yes, she's just 7 months. Thank you!
Yes, Drew, that's Aisle 20, we're almost there.
Excuse me, Sir. Did I get you with my diaper bag? So sorry!
Oops, I'm so sorry!
Almost there....
Ok, Aisle 27! That's us. Sit down, buddy. I'll be back. Just need to find somewhere to put our overhead bags.
Excuse me, Ms. Flight Attendant, could you assist me in... oh you CAN? Great!
I'd love help with the bags.... oh, the baby. Sure, you can hold her. I'll just go find some space for these bags.
No I'm not traveling alone. I have another child as well. He's in his seat already.
Oh, you meant another adult. Nope.
I'm FINE, though! Just going to hoist this bag here...
Oh gosh... I'm so sorry! Are you ok?
If I could just squeeze through and put, arrrrgh, this, there!
Her name's Megan. Um, could you help me find space for this bag?
I know... yes, she's had that much hair since she was born. Thank you.
Ok, I think that does it.
I'll take her now. Thank you for all your help.
Hi, Buddy. You doing ok? I know, I'm sorry it took so long.
I'm sorry I'm sweaty.
Would you like to watch a DVD?
Oh... you don't like the headphones.

You know what they say, though.
The best laid plans of mice and men...
are useless when you fly!

Ladies and Gentlemen, Please Direct Your Attention to the Center Ring...

2010-06-04T22:13:00.005-04:00

Ohh........

He floats through the air with the greatest of ease...

This daring young man in the warm summer breeze.

His actions are graceful. All girls he does please...

And my heart he has stolen away!

The Master

2010-06-01T20:54:00.003-04:00

We have known for a while that our Drew has a knack for negotiating.
A penchant for persuading.
He's a master manipulator, I mean mediator.

A stunning amount of my time is spent reminding him just who is in charge around this house.
One time, our "Mom's in charge" conversation went something like this:

"Andrew! Who is in charge?"
(sigh) "You are..."
"And Who put me in charge?"
"God did."
"Right. Did you know that the Bible says..."
".. I know, I know... Chapter 23"
"Go to your room."

And although my reminders are constant, I sometimes wonder who really is in charge around here.

The other night, we had the best time chatting with our family in Alabama via a video webcam. Our family crowded around the screen of our computer, while modern technology beamed aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins and at least one dog within what seemed to be physical reach.

Drew loved seeing everyone (and had a pretty good time seeing himself on the computer screen as well). But towards the end of our conversation, a very real sadness/lonliness just descended upon his little countenance. Everyone on the other side of the screen saw what I was seeing on my lap. His little shoulders hunched over, he turned his face from the camera and he buried his head in my hair. I felt tiny hot tears hit my skin, and we all began to ask him, "What's wrong!?!"

Apparently, it was just too much of a good thing... too far away, and he had to leave the room to compose himself. I ended the video call, and found my son still crying in his room when I walked in.

He sobbed, "I miss them so much!"
"I know, buddy... we'll go see them soon!"
"When??"
"I don't know. I need to look at my calendar, and grandpa's work calendar. We'll find a time."
"Let's look at the calendar now. I want to go see my grandparents. I want to see my cousins."
"OK, we'll look at the calendar in the morning. We'll go as soon as possible, I promise."
"You will? We can?"
A hopeful smile replaced the crying, and he wiped away the tears.
"So, mom..."
"Yes, honey?"
And without missing a beat, the quiver still lingering in his pitiful voice, he said, "But I sure don't want to drive 10 hours to see them... I really think we should fly!"

I wish I could tell you that I laughed off the suggestion.
But alas, I found an amazing sale on airfare and we are boarding a plane one week from tomorrow.
For six days of summer fun with family.
He asked if we could make it ten days, but honestly, who does he think is in charge around here?

Huh??

Prepare to Be Humbled

2010-05-28T12:40:00.002-04:00

Recently, a friend of mine (who's about to welcome a beautiful little girl into their family) asked if she could put me on speed dial for parenting advice. I'm going to respond with my new motto for moms, "Prepare to Be Humbled".

For months, I have been working off all the baby weight that Miss M so graciously left behind. And I've been pleased with the progress I've made to this point. With a couple of Weight Watchers gold stars under my belt, my goal is in sight (still a long way off, but in sight, nonetheless).

So, I bought myself a cute little sundress the other day. It was on sale and it was in a bright, summery color. I loved the empire waistline and the comfy cotton material, a style that made it a perfect piece to dress up for work or throw over a swimsuit for the beach.

I was really excited about it. Until Drew got really excited when I was wearing it the other day. He gasped out loud, pointed toward my belly and said, "MOM! You have another baby in your tummy - YEY!!!!"

Uh... No I don't.

"Yes! Yes you do! LOOK!"

My son poked at my post-baby belly, pointing out what was apparently obvious.

I'm sorry to disappoint you, son, but I do NOT have another baby in my belly. That's just leftover from Miss M.

"Oh..."

I walked quickly to the kitchen (with no small amount of horror on my face) and relayed the conversation to my husband.

I turned and walked out of the room as he began lecturing Drew, but all I caught was the beginning ("Buddy!! Never ever EVER EVER...)

So, I'm looking for that roll of duct tape again for him. And something with the words "Control Top" for me, I guess!

The Finer Things In Life

2010-05-23T21:40:00.009-04:00

I've said for a while now that Miss M has an affinity for the finer things. From the first few days of her life when she laid in her swing, bathing in the sunlight (jaundice)

to the infant massage class we took when she was just a few weeks old, I could tell that this girl didn't mind being pampered.

She adores watching me trim her little fingernails. She tilts her head back while I brush her hair. And she loves a nice warm bath more than just about anything.

This quality of hers makes me giddy with anticipation. Someday, I imagine mother-daughter trips to the spa for manicures, pedicures and various other pamperings.

Apparently, her exquisite taste extends beyond spa treatments to expensive, well, TASTE...

I mean, only in a four-star restaurant could you find gourmet selections suitable for this girl's palate.

Frog Legs

Duck Pate

Octopus

That is one quality she did not inherit from her mother. I often say that my taste buds most closely resemble those of a five-year old boy (corndogs, macaroni & cheese, & grilled cheese sandwiches are among my favorites).

The other day, I walked out onto my mom's pool deck where, no kidding, Miss M was propped up on the pillows of a lounge chair and her grandma was feeding her grapes (peeled and cut up, of course!). I laughed out loud at the sight.

But I LOVE IT. Because I know that someday, when ESPN runs live, weekend-long coverage of lacrosse and softball and baseball and soccer and curling and frisbee dog competitions, the little lady and I will be far far away, flipping through magazines while our pedicures dry.

And snacking on escargot.
Or, in my case, corndogs.

It All Evens Out

2010-05-14T09:12:00.002-04:00

This is for the mom who is worried that her pudgy newborn boy is consistently "off the charts" in weight and height and may grow up to be the next "Andre the Giant".

Someday, he'll be five years old. And he'll be the perfect height for a boy his age. And he'll be so slim that you'll stop after his doctor's check up to feed the poor kid a doughnut. With sprinkles.

This is for the mom who worries that her son's affinity for the adventurous as a toddler means a future full of broken bones and ER visits.

Someday, he'll be five years old. And he'll be a little smarter and more sophisticated about the adventures he attempts because you let him fall off the monkey bars once or twice way back then.

This is for the mom who is worried about the fact that her two-year old boy only grunts and points while his preschool pals are speaking in three and four word sentences.

Someday, he'll be sitting at his five-year check-up with his pediatrician sharing stories about t-ball and putt putt golf and his baby sister and bicycle safety and carseat safety and the school he's attending next year and his favorite color and the time he hit himself in the eye with a basketball and who his dentist is and what he ate for breakfast and his new preference for vegetables and how silly it is that he's sitting in his underwear on an examining table and that he's pleased with the results of his blood pressure reading and that he's excited over the fact that he doesn't need any shots when he's five...

and the pediatrician will tell you (when she finds the opportunity to jump into the conversation) that, "We're not worried about his vocabulary, that's for sure!"

And this is for the mom whose five year old constantly interrupts when grown-ups are talking and has a hard time remembering to use his manners and leaves his dirty clothes strewn around the house and bubble gum wrappers on the kitchen counter.

Oh, wait... that's me.

Any good advice out there for THIS mom?

Double Trouble

2010-05-13T12:28:00.002-04:00

Seriously... have you ever seen a cuter pair of boys?

Drew and his cousin have really grown close this year. And his cousin has just... well... GROWN! Austin, a full year younger than my son, appears to have finally surpassed Drew in height.

I love how pictures tend to capture personalities.

And we got a few great "personality-capturing" shots over the Mother's Day weekend.

Like this one...

And this one...

(My brother and sister-in-law's beautiful daughter)

And, let's face it - this captures my husband's personality, too!

("Let me just read the instructions...")

Totally gratuitous, I know... but my entire purpose today is to subject you to pictures of the people who make me happy!

Have a great day!

To The Point

2010-05-10T09:17:00.004-04:00

I believe in beautifully written stories.
I am a fan of words.
I love a great conversation.

Therefore, I struggle with brevity.

And when I thought about writing a "Mother's Day"-themed post for yesterday, I crafted long, elegant paragraphs in my mind - thoughts about my own parenting, words to share with my mom, etc.

But yesterday morning, my five-year old skipped into the bathroom as I was getting ready for church with a sealed envelope in hand. He excitedly shoved it in my face and hopped up and down as I peeled back the flap and slid out the card.

I opened it up, and heard my son's little high-pitched five-year-old recorded voice say, "Happy Mother's Day, Mommy! I love you! (followed by a few incomprehensible gurgles from Miss M)".

I closed the card and gave each of my children and their daddy a big hug.

"Thank you." I said. "I will keep this card forever. It's the best gift you could have ever given me."

I've listened to it at least twenty times over the past twenty-four hours. With his slight preschool speech impediments, it sounds more like he's saying, "Happy Muvvah's Day, Mommy! I wuv you!"

It is priceless and perfect and captures the very best about what I want to remember of this stage of life.

In seven words.

I have a lot to learn from my kids.

(P.S., to my own mom... Happy Mother's Day, Mom! I love you!)

"What I (Don't) Want to Be When I Grow Up"

2010-04-29T23:12:00.005-04:00

Here's a little spin on the "oldie-but-goodie" creative writing assignment.

What I Don't Want to Be When I Grow Up (by A.M. Mama... age 33)

When I grow up, I do not want to be a baker. Specifically, I hope that I will never, ever have to help support my family financially based on my skills as a baker and decorator of birthday cakes.

Here are a few reasons why:

First, I tend to view projects with a big-picture focus. This is useful when approaching issues like bed-wetting ("Well, he won't wear a diaper when he goes off to college. I'm sure we'll figure this out soon!"). It is considerably less useful when fine details like ingredient measurements and oven temperatures are important to the overall success of the project.

Second, I am over-confident. I will look at the picture of something designed by a professional and think to myself, "I can do that!"

Third, I am trusting. I actually believe the step-by-step instructions that promise me I CAN make my creation look just like the picture of something designed by a professional.

And finally, I am not neat. In leiu of an explanation, I will introduce "Exhibit A":

This is the cake I made for my son's fifth birthday.
He wanted a basketball cake.
I wanted to call the local bakery to make it.
I wanted to laugh out loud when I found out how much the bakery wanted to charge.
I decided to save some money and make the cake myself.

The Twizzlers really jazzed it up, I think:

The birthday party-ers had a treat for the senses. In addition to the craftsmanship, the baking left a bit to be desired. Or to be cooked, as it were. My mother-in-law took a bite of her piece and exclaimed, "Oh! There's pudding inside! How wonderful!"

"Um... nope, no pudding in there!! Ok, everyone. Stay away from the center of the cake, please! Apparently it did not get cooked!!"

In conclusion, if I had to bake and decorate birthday cakes for a living, my family would starve.

The Double Standard(s)

2010-04-25T22:38:00.003-04:00

I recently realized that, as a parent, I have some pretty major double standards.

For instance, my son pretty much dresses himself every day. And I pretty much never have anything to say about what he decides to wear. Sometimes his clothes don't match (ok, often his clothes don't match). Sometimes, his hair goes unbrushed. Most Sundays I coax him into some appropriate attire, but the other six days of the week are all his.

I gave him this freedom around 2 years old. I'll never forget some of the ensembles he picked when we started off. For a period of time, all his outfits included a black pair of soccer socks that, because of his tiny stature, went all the way up to his underwear. Friends would ask me to explain his clothing. I didn't have much to say. I considered making stickers for him to wear out in public ("I dressed myself today"), but decided that it was probably my ego worried about what people thought so I let it go.

He has the same free reign with his hair (much to the chagrin of all grandparents, I'm pretty sure). In fact, this week, we spiked his golden mop into a semi-mohawk-ish do for CLASS PICTURES! He was thrilled, and the rebel in me was kind of excited about it, too!

But, as some dear friends (and mothers of girls, to lend some credentials to their opinions) pointed out, I am definitely not (nor will I be in the future) that same kind of mom with my daughter.

In my mind, she will be my dress-up doll until maybe middle school. And she WILL wear hairbows!

Beyond their appearances, I have discovered another inconsistency in my expectations. With Drew, I constantly pushed him toward developmental milestones. Rolling, sitting, standing, walking, riding a bike, playing tball... for five years we have given this kid every incentive to live his life in the fast lane. And it's been a thrilling ride as a mom to watch him conquer these first five years of life. I've loved every minute of it.

But with Miss M, I just want her to be my rockabye baby for as long as I can hold on to her. I am saddened by her milestones as much as I'm proud of her for accomplishing them. I am in no hurry for this snuggly sweetheart to find some independence.

I reckon that my parenting problems aren't so uncommon, considering the circumstances.

He's a boy.

She's a girl.

He's my first.

She's my last... Of course I'm going to relate differently to them.

But there's no double standard in the love department. Just a double dose of crazy, abundant, all-out mommy love for these two kids.

Don't Blink...

2010-04-24T22:24:00.004-04:00

Or half a year will go by

and you'll be left wondering how fast the next six months will go.

GOOD MORNING!!!!

2010-04-22T18:14:00.002-04:00

Well, technically it's dinnertime and there's a boiling pot on the stove as I type.

But... it's a brand new day on the blog and it deserves a quick welcome, I think!

So, welcome to my new blog: A.M. Mama.

I went through so many thoughts, so many concepts trying to figure out who I was as a blogger once Miss M came into our lives.

I could have stayed "Mom2Drew" forever, but I'm sure it would have been a page in my daughter's tell-all book someday. "It all started when my mother didn't even acknowledge me on her blog header..."

So, for about a year I have contemplated. I brought my concerns to you and you all graciously gave me ideas (do you remember helping me out those many months ago?).

But the best advice I got was to wait and see what this new child would add to my life before I settled on a new moniker.

I decided to go by "A.M. Mama" for three reasons. First, the "A" and the "M" are the initials of my two kids first names.

Second, I want the AM to also connotate the morning. I really believe there's a huge significance in the possibilities that mornings hold for mamas of young ones. I am stretched beyond my abilities in the mornings. I am pulled in a million directions by 9am. I am no longer permitted the luxury of being a night owl as a mother to preschoolers. The mornings are filled with possibilities for me as a mother. They are my quiet hours to be with God. They are the precious hopeful moments when the to-do list seems possible and the coffee's still hot.

And third, God promises in the Bible that He bestows new mercies each morning. I don't know about you, but I need a reminder that no matter how frazzled and unglued I become by 9pm, He's ready to hand me a fresh page at 6am (give or take... depending on how many times I hit the snooze button).

Thanks for reading... thanks for celebrating this new page with me.

Here's to a new day!

Teaser...

2010-04-22T15:58:00.003-04:00

I just saw the "finished product" of my new blog design and can't WAIT to share it with you.

New name, new look, new concept.

Yey!!

I think it'll be up soon, so perhaps for the last time, I'm signing off as...
Mom2Drew

Memos I Wish I Had Received Today

2010-04-20T18:07:00.004-04:00

To: Mom2Drew
From: Communications Department
Re: New Method of Communication
_________________________

Please be advised that Miss M has now perfected a new form of communication - a high-pitched shriek. She intends to debut said verbal milestone around 1 o'clock.

It would be preferable that you cancel your trip to the public library which is set to occur at the same time.

To: Mom2Drew
From: Facilities Management
Re: The plastic bag in the garage
_____________________

While it might be tempting to grab the empty plastic bag in your garage today for your walk with the dog, please be advised that said bag was used for a sprinkler-related project over the weekend.

The leaky tube of apoxy glue was temporarily housed in that bag.

Management cannot be responsible for damage to clothing or stains to skin, hair and various other fabrics from this bright purple substance.

To: Mom2Drew
From: Facilities Management
Re: Common Area Maintenance
_________________________

We applaud your desire to scrub the tile floors throughout the common area today. Please note, however that while your chosen cleaner of choice is titled "Barkeepers Friend", a more suitable name might be "Mom2Drew's Enemy".

You may be pleased to note that by the third complete cleaning of your tile floors, the white chalky residue will begin to dissipate.

The First Step Is to Admit You Have a Problem

2010-04-19T16:46:00.002-04:00

My son woke up this morning, walked out of his bedroom and announced that the house smelled "kinda like IKEA".

My husband just stared at him, then glared at me.

"Could you please stop shopping with him so much??" he pleaded.

I tried to explain why my son could identify the difference between various retail shopping establishments based on their scent alone (IKEA was simple enough... I had just put a cinnamon raisin bagel in the toaster this morning which smelled like the heavenly cinnamon buns they sell).

But I think the damage was already done. No doubt my hubby remembered when I took Drew shopping a few weeks ago with $10 dollars of his own money to spend. And he bought clothes.

Hello. My name is Mom2Drew, and I'm a shopaholic.

What We've Been Up "to"

2010-04-16T09:55:00.002-04:00

To-Do's
To Work
To Play
To School
Two Kids
Two Spring Breaks
Two Tired Parents
Two Days Behind (on everything)
Too Little Time
Too Many Activities
Too Much Fun
Too Busy

So Mom2Drew (and a little one, too)
is just about done with the number "2".
Which is just as well. And I'll be just fine,
when the Design Girl solves my problems with a "redesign".

(The New and Improved Blog Coming Soon!!!)

Doesn't He Make You Nervous???

2010-04-02T11:26:00.004-04:00

That's a question I answer a lot.

On the playground, at the beach, in our backyard, out front. Inevitably, when people watch my son "play", they always ask me if his antics make me nervous.

Because, I gather, he makes other people VERY nervous.

I think I might be more prone to worry if I hadn't watched this child climb up a slide at 10 months, climb out of his crib at 14 months and conquer just about every other obstacle in his path from that moment on.

With older cousins to play with this past week, Drew pushed his own limits, conquering bigger, higher, faster goals.

And I can still honestly say that as I watched him hang precariously from perilous perches...

... "Nope, still doesn't make me nervous!"

But, this?

The thought that this little one might have an affinity for the adventurous?

THIS makes me VERY nervous!!

Duct Tape, Anyone?

2010-03-29T23:37:00.003-04:00

We are on Spring Break this week. The kids and I journeyed all day Friday up the interstate to spend a week with the grandparents in Alabama. I love coming here. My cell phone gets practically no reception. I spend very little time on the computer. The television isn't even on for background noise. My son has cousins to play with and my daughter has grandparents, aunts & uncles to snuggle with.

I went shoe shopping with my sister-in-law yesterday (without ANY children) and we found the most adorable pair of taupe colored snakeskin pumps you've ever seen. And they were on the clearance rack, and they were $10.00. We each bought a pair. We might have also high-fived and cheered in the middle of the shoe store.

Yes, this is a great way to spend a Spring Break.

But just in case I forgot for a moment that life has come a LONG way for the spring breaks of yore... my almost-five-year-old boy believes it's his duty to remind me that parenthood NEVER takes a vacation.

We've made due with time outs in back rooms and bathrooms, in restaurants and relatives homes. We've discussed the rudeness of burping, and we've sworn off sodas for the rest of our trip.

He's informed my in-laws (who do such a good job of choosing to speak words of affirmation and encouragement around the kiddos) that the Skittles he bought in a vending machine are "So good I think I'm going to die..." (I thought I might, too).

He's whined about finishing his dinner because he was absolutely convinced his stomach might explode, then managed to find room to polish off 1 1/2 smores and 12 additional marshmallows.

He's refused to wear anything but a short-sleeved shirt in the chilly 50 degree weather.

He's managed to bring up the topic of "Bad Words We Aren't Allowed To Say" at the dinner table twice. I used the opportunity to patiently remind him that I haven't changed my mind about the word "booty" and that no matter how sweetly he says it, that yes indeed, "Shut Up" is still a bad thing to say.

My husband (who joined us for a few days of our trip) was able to stop him before he "christened" my in-laws front bushes. Apparently, indoor plumbing is a luxury wasted on him.

Then again... indoor plumbing IS one of his favorite topics of conversation. Apparently, any joke is funnier when the punchline includes the word "Bathroom".

His lastest line has been, "Dude! Are you kidding me?" Don't worry, it comes off just as disrespectful in person as it does in writing.

But even as I shake my head in disbelief and pray for strength, I hear him saying please and thank you to his grandma. I see him trying new foods just because his cousin is. I watch him stop all his fun to give his baby sister a little love. And I gladly obliged as he asks me to carry him into the bedroom and tuck him into his bed.

I quietly type a recap of our day as my children sleep peacefully in the big bed I'll be crawling into in just a moment. I'll listen to their baby snores and wiggles... sounds I don't hear when they're sleeping across the house in their own beds at home.

And I'll fall asleep tonight thanking God for a wonderful break.... and praying for strength and a big old roll of duct tape.

The Uncooked Side of the Pancake

2010-03-19T23:40:00.002-04:00

This metaphor resonated with me. Bear with me while I explain.

I'm doing Beth Moore's Esther study right now (wonderful!) and in our video this past week, she describes how sometimes we (women) can be like a half-cooked pancake. One side all pretty and golden, cooked to perfection. The other side just a goopy, sloppy uncooked mess.

We get really good at showing our "cooked" or pretty side in public. At social gatherings. At church. We are adept at showing the pretty side of our family as well. We dress everyone nicely, threaten our kids through clenched-jaw smiles to remember their manners, prompt (nag) our husbands to do more or be more or just SAY more...

And we go to great lengths to ensure that no one sees the goopy, sloppy uncooked mess.

I have to admit: I ENJOY presenting the pretty side of the pancake. We recently got some family pictures taken at our church for Miss M's upcoming baby dedication. The proofs arrived via email tonight. I pored over them. Clicked through the images a dozen times. Everyone smiling. All the outfits coordinating. Children sitting idyllically in our laps. I want to jump inside that picture and live there forever.

But if I'm ever going to relate to another human being on this earth... particularly another woman or mother, I need to be more willing to let people see the "un"pretty side of my life, too.

I have to admit: I DO NOT ENJOY presenting this side to anyone. It feels very out of control. It's humbling. It requires me to trust another person with my mess. Don't get me wrong, I'll tell you about my messes, but I'd rather do it after they've been neatly resolved.

So, on Wednesday afternoon, about an hour after I listened to Beth Moore describe the pancake predicament on a video, I pulled my dirty, cluttered SUV into our driveway and began unloading the junk of the day. Diaper bags and backpacks spilled out onto the pavement. Drew began riding his bike as Miss M slept soundly in her carseat. Instead of waking her, I opened all the doors to the car and the back hatch, threw my keys onto the back bumper, and began organizing the mess in our garage.

After several minutes, Miss M woke up crying. I rescued her from her carseat and made Drew follow us inside with the promise that we'd only stay inside for a moment. I had to go to the bathroom and change out of my "Bible study clothes" (see above paragraph about presenting the pretty side). And the baby, I surmised by smell, needed a clean diaper.

I was almost into a pair of sweatpants when my phone alerted me to a new text message. This is what I read:

"Your car door is open.
I am in your driveway.
I am stealing your car.
Just letting you know."

It was my dear friend, Jessica (Please tell me you're a fan of hers already. If not, click HERE).

Anyway... Jessica happened to be driving past my house when she noticed my car sitting there with all doors and windows wide open. My personal belongings were still strewn about the perimeter. I was, however, nowhere to be found. And like any good friend would do upon seeing my keys sitting in plain sight, she threatened Grand Theft Auto.

I stood in my closet as I read the words of her message, laughed out loud, threw on the nearest top, and ran out to the driveway. The sight was pitiful.

I'm sure she was probably already worried about my well-being, but I really sealed the deal when I blurted out, "Friend! You're looking at the ugly side of my pancake!!!"

And even as I type this, the lesson is still teaching me. If my house had been tidy with my car parked neatly in the garage with the door shut and my children sitting quietly on my lap inside while I read them fairytales, my friend probably wouldn't have pulled in to check on me.

And I would have missed out on what turned out to be a really fun, spontaneous afternoon playdate with her beautiful little girls and my very excited little boy.

You know, I just might start showing off this side more often.

But I'm still going to wear cute shoes.
Just keeping it real.

Girl Talk just isn't the same...

2010-03-18T23:27:00.003-04:00

... when you have to compete for conversation time with a very active big brother.

It strikes me, after watching this video, that my money was no doubt wasted on a fancy exersaucer for the girl.

I should just prop her up on some pillows in front of the 24/7 show called "Drew".

Untitled from mom2drew on Vimeo.

I Envy the Octopus

2010-03-15T21:50:00.003-04:00

Drop Drew off at preschool.
Head to office with baby.
Have a work question.
Email accountant.
Call bank.
Go to bank.
Sit in waiting area.
Feed baby a bottle.
Wait while customer service rep researches my question.
Send frantic text to friend - "I'm late for preschool pickup!"
Call school and leave message to put Drew on playground.
Get told "no" by bank.
Call school again and leave another message that I won't be late. Please get Drew off the playground.
Pick up Drew from preschool.
Head back to office.
Drew has to go potty.
Manuever stroller through tiny office bathroom.
Sit Drew in front of television.
Jiggle baby while logging back onto computer.
Feel something warm and slimy.
Grab diaper bag, blanket, new outfit.
Dial new customer service number.
Put line on speaker phone to wait the 15 minutes or more I've just been promised.
Sit down on floor of office with baby, diaper bag, and supplies.
Call accountant from cell phone.
Give baby head-to-toe bath with wipes, change clothes all the way down to socks, talk to accountant, listen for my turn on speaker phone and answer Drew's questions about show he's watching.
Hang up all phone lines.
Return calls left on machine.
Rock crying baby.
Realize baby has fallen asleep in arms while rocking.
Put baby down in quiet dark room.
Wait for return phone calls.
Realize that son's just told me he's watching a movie I probably shouldn't let him watch.
Guess preschool shows are over.
Let it go.
Get the information I need.
Pack up baby, Drew, stroller, diaper bag, trash and head downstairs.
Go back to bank.
Sit back down in waiting area.
Feed baby another bottle.
Find another bathroom for Drew.
Get another turn with customer service rep.
Get what I needed in the first place this morning.
Hear Hallelujah chorus.
Remember that I needed to go to Sam's Club.
Alerted by car that I need gas, too.
Alerted by son that I haven't fed him lunch yet.
Pick up necessities at Sam's Club.
Feed son hot dog combo lunch for $1.60.
Hear Hallelujah chorus again.
Fill up car with gas.
Ask son incredulously if he REALLY has to go potty again.
Find cup in the car.
Head home.
Unpack car.
Feed dog.
Feed baby again.
Feed boy again.
Find baseball practice clothes.
Find gloves, helmet, shoes, hat and pack into practice bag.
Comfort crying son who just remembered the mean thing another boy did to him at last week's practice.
Get boy and hubby off to practice.
Take first shower in two days.
Feed baby again.
Try to remember if I've eaten since breakfast.
Eat dinner.
Sit on couch.
Realize baby has fallen asleep in my arms.
Relax.
Welcome boys home from practice.
Realize I haven't considered their dinner needs at all.
Throw together dinner for two hungry men.
Send them off to the showers.
Read bedtime stories to boy.
Pass baby off to hubby.
Check on two sleeping kids.
Check two email accounts.
Check blogs.
Check.
Check.
Check.

And stare incredulously at my to-do list.
After all that, only one item can be checked off.

She's Roll.....(Pause)... ing now!

2010-03-13T22:13:00.003-05:00

The crowd has gathered for what promises to be a great show tonight.
Everyone is ready. This is sure to be the night.

The star of the show is brought out to center ring to the applause and cheers of the onlookers.

Propped up on her belly, she wiggles and fusses for a few moments. And then...

She begins to roll.

The crowd goes wild! They are on their feet!

She's almost halfway through her stunt.

"You can do it, girl!"

Wait, what's this? An unexpected turn of events.

It appears that she's taken a break. Yes, halfway through the roll she has decided to just stop and take a break.

Propped up on her right side she is now resting comfortably with her head on the carpet. The amount of balance it must be taking right now to just stay frozen in that position is an amazing feat in and of itself!!

Enraptured, the audience holds their collective breath. This may not be her night after all. You can cut the tension with a knife, until...

Oh wait~yep, it looks like she's moving again!

Almost there, keep it coming!

YES! She's done it.
Ladies and gentlemen, she has rolled over!

And now she's closing her eyes.
Show's over folks. Drive safely.
Good night.

You'd have to see it to believe it...

2010-03-10T23:26:00.002-05:00

In keeping with the theme, I will attempt to share the wonders of what I SAW today.

If you've been keeping track, it all started when I decided to pay attention to each of my senses individually. A bike ride through the neighborhood brought the smells of families cooking, trees blooming. It was rather nice.

The next day, I decided to concentrate on my sense of hearing. It was a little less pleasant than the previous exercise.

And today... I must admit that if I hadn't SEEN the following incident with my own two eyes, I certainly wouldn't have believed it.

My eyes blinked several times and opened slowly. I saw the brightly colored walls of my son's bedroom as I awoke. Oh yes, I HAD finally found a quiet place to sleep - alone - after getting up multiple times through the night with one of my two children and their various needs. Why my son's little bed was the only place of solace is beyond me, but that's beside the point.

I watched Drew bounce to life as my little morning man always does. I observed his carefully selected wardrobe for the day and even complimented the spiky "up-do" he chose for his hair.

I looked on as he leaned out the car window, chatting with his friend while we waiting in carline at preschool. I watched him gather his lunch box and backpack and hop out of the car excitedly when we pulled up to the front.

I saw him hug his teacher as she and I exchanged "Good Morning!"s and warm smiles. I even observed him walk toward the hallway leading to his classroom.

And then... I saw that lunchbox... packed lovingly only an hour before... come hurtling back through the open window right at my face.

The next thing I saw was my four year old's tight grasp on the bottom of the rolled-down passenger window. In astonishment, I watched that child come completely undone before my eyes.

If I had not been a little late already for my Wednesday morning Bible study, the other mothers in carline today would have seen one determined momma and one mess of a boy park the car and walk straight back to the classroom door. At which point they would have observed me plant that child in his classroom after a stern talkin'-to.

Instead, I watched my son try to recompose himself and buckle his seatbelt as we pulled out of line and headed toward the church down the street. Several glances back in the rear view mirror assured me that he was pulling himself together quite nicely.

Bible study went fine... I watched Drew out of the corner of my eye as he sat in the back of my small group eating the lunch I packed and playing games on the computer I brought.

And tonight, as I watch these words come together on the computer screen, I am still pretty much at a loss as to what in the world could have happened.

There's no indication that anything particular set him off or is still bothering him enough to threaten to cause any kind of drama tomorrow morning.

He has promised me as much.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see...

Do You Hear What I Hear?

2010-03-08T21:13:00.004-05:00

Brilliant. Yesterday, I decided to stop and smell the roses along our bicycle route. And because it was such an enjoyable experience, I just assumed that I'd be as equally inspired by a day of "Listening" to the beautiful sounds around me.

Just Brilliant.

I kept Drew home from school today due to a skin rash. He was feeling fine and bored out of his mind. So, the soundtrack to my day was whining, begging, cajoling, pleading, and just plain talking.

One thing I learned from all that listening is that my preschooler is a professional talker. He never stops.

That is, until his little head hits the pillow at the same speed his body has been running all day.

And - just like that... the chattering soundtrack abruptly screeches to a halt and is replaced with the lullaby of heavy breathing. He is sound asleep and all is quiet.

Right now... my ears hear the quiet clicking of my fingers against the keyboard... and "24" has just gone to a commercial break in the other room.

Perhaps, if I end this post quickly, my hubby and I can sit on the couch and listen to the quietness of a house all tucked in for the night.

Now that sounds just perfect to me.

You Got to Stop and Smell the Roses along the way

2010-03-07T22:04:00.002-05:00

This evening, as the sun began to set and the cool winds replaced the GORGEOUS warm breezes of the afternoon, Drew and I hopped on our bikes for a quick ride around the largest loop of our neighborhood streets, or what we affectionately call "The Big Block".

I don't know why it dawned on me to do this. But as we circled and pedaled the streets, I began to make a mental note of the fragrances I smelled along the way.

A barbecue grill. Either steaks or chicken, I couldn't be sure.
Then the distinct and heavy fragrance of a magnolia blossom.
I'm no gardener, but the next few scents were from various blooms and bushes.
As we made our way around the bend, I detected the unmistakable smell of dryer sheets.
Ah, and another family had just begun to fire up the grill - the smell of charcoal lingered in the air.
Not every smell was pleasant - I got a few whiffs of car exhaust and garbage.

But this sensory exercise really made me stop and think tonight about how much goes on around me. And how much I usually miss.

There were no roses along our route tonight, but the fragrance was just as sweet as if there had been.

I think I need to get my other senses in on the action. Perhaps tomorrow, I'll try listening on for size.

Wanna play? I'd love to know if you've had a chance to stop and smell the roses lately, too!

And "4" is still my favorite number...

2010-03-02T14:45:00.002-05:00

You're going to love this.

Not just because Drew (#2) happens to be the cutest t-ball player out there.

And not just because you get to see him hit the ball.

And not just because his daddy's the first base coach and their interaction is adorable.

No, you're going to love this because you get to see all that PLUS "#4".

Take me out to the t-ball game! from Jennifer Dunlap on Vimeo.

A combination of talent and personal style. You gotta love it!

Monday, Monday. Can't Trust That Day.

2010-03-01T17:48:00.003-05:00

Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Time to get up, buddy.
We have a lot to do!

Mommy just realized that I am supposed to bring your classroom snacks for the whole week today!
I know, how silly of me to forget, you're right!
We have to stop by the store on the way to school and pick something up, ok?
Yes, you can wear shorts sleeves and short pants today.
Yes, you can stay for lunch bunch. In fact, that's an excellent idea.
Eat your breakfast.
The dog is eating your breakfast!!!
No, you can't have an ice cream sandwich instead.
I know I let you do that one time, but in hindsight, it wasn't such a great idea.

OK, in the car everyone.
Yep, you're right. She DID just make a dirty diaper. Wait in the car, buddy. I'll be right back!
Alright, little one... clean and...
Oh, you aren't done. OK.
What buddy?
Oh, your lunch box for lunch bunch! I'll get it.
Back to you, little lady. That does it. Clean diaper and we're off!

Yes, Drew, I think we will be a little late to school, but we need to pick up some snacks for your class.
Of course we can buy snacks that start with the letter "T". Great idea.
Why are we turning into the store? Don't you remember. Snacks. Your class. Yes, how silly of you to forget.
Stay close, please.
Oh, look... Teddy Grahams DO start with the letter "T".
Let's just grab the milk and pay for the....

Where's my check card?
Hold on, I know it's here somewhere.
Nevermind, I'm assuming you'll take cash? Great!
Ok, everyone back in the car.

Ssh.. I'm on the phone. Yes, I need the listing for Chili's restaurant.
Hello, I was at your restaurant for dinner last night and think I forgot my check card.
Yes, my name is Jennifer and it's a blue card.
What bank? Uhhhhhh..... Well, yes, you're right. I really should know that off the top of my head. I'm assuming you have it, though? Great. I'll be by later this afternoon with a photo ID to pick it up.

No, buddy. We're definitely not the first ones to school today. We're about 20 minutes late.
Well, we're first in line because all the other cars have gone home.

Oh, look! There's your teacher!
Hi, sorry we're late today. I just have the class snacks here in the car and just need to hand them off to you.

What's that?
Oh, you don't say.
So, it's Cole's mom's week to bring snacks, not mine?
No, no! That's fine!

Oh, That's Why!

2010-02-27T22:24:00.002-05:00

Oh, that's why I'm feeling so nostalgic tonight.

Everyone's asleep right now, and I just finished posting pictures from Drew's t-ball game.

Before logging off, though, I have been spending some time looking through my old posts. I went back one year ago today to see what I was up to in February of 2009. It was nice to catch up with the old "me". The one with only one kid and one kid's worth of worries.

And then I decided to look back even farther into my blogging history. And do you know what I discovered?

Today is Mom2Drew's 2nd birthday!

I published my first post on February 27, 2008. As I read that entry, I was reminded of the purpose and reason behind my blog. It was a great re-focus. Especially as I look back on what God has been up to in our lives lately.

Speaking of 2nd birthdays, I'd love for you to go read my dad's latest entry HERE about his own birthday celebration-of-sorts.

So, cake and ice cream all around! We need a few good excuses for a party these days!

Gimme an "A"!

2010-02-27T21:39:00.002-05:00

It sure is nice to have a fan (or twelve).

And victory tastes pretty sweet with a post-game milkshake toast!

T-ball videos to come next week!!!

3 pairs of booties

2010-02-25T21:10:00.002-05:00

More than a year ago, I was shopping at a little boutique.
And on the clearance table, there sat a package of Christmas booties. Three pairs of brightly striped infant socks, trimmed in ribbons and bows.

I purchased the gift and wrapped it up for my brother and sister-in-law with the following little note:

"I'm praying that by next Christmas, these booties will be filled with baby feet."

You see, my brother and his wife had decided that the time had come to start a family. And we got no small amount of joy in joking that, when the time came, our money was on triplets!!!

I never imagined in my wildest dreams that by the time Christmas rolled around again, all three pairs of booties would indeed be filled by precious baby feet. Just not the way I had planned... (I guess I should have been more specific in my prayers)

The package was opened, and the contents split up.. between my brother's wife, my husband's sister and myself.

Miss M, born October 22 was followed 6 days later by Little "A". And not quite 6 wks passed before our third little girl, Sweet "E" was born.

And, in addition to so many heartfelt prayers lifted before our father for these families, I marveled at God's answer to my little prayer, too.

So, as we celebrated the birth of Jesus... we praised God for filling three sets of Christmas booties, too!

(from L to R: Little "A" and her mommy, Miss M & Me, and Sweet "E" and her mommy)

4 X 4

2010-02-23T08:49:00.001-05:00

And now for a quick review...

Miss M at 3 months old:

And one month later at 4 months (yesterday):

It dawned on me today that I currently have a 4-month old and a 4-year old. Which made me subsequently decide that four is my new favorite number.

She sleeps and eats well (yeah, yeah... insert big baby joke here). She smiles and laughs out loud. She can't move around, so she is always in the last place I left her. She doesn't talk back and she can't say the word "no" yet.

And this guy?

He sleeps well and finally is willing to eat something besides chicken nuggets. He smiles and laughs all the time, and tells funny jokes so that we'll laugh, too. He moves around so fast that I can't remember the last place I left him, but he's old enough to be responsible outside of my supervision for a good five minutes at a time. He talks back more and more, but at least I'm getting practice on the discipline front. He certainly knows how to say "no", but he also knows a thousand other words, and I enjoy our conversations immensely.

So, this month, I celebrate the balance that the 4's have brought to my life!

Drew at the Bat

2010-02-22T00:06:00.002-05:00

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville Nine that day;
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that -
We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;

And we're sure glad in t-ball... that NO ONE can strike out!!!

Total Trust

2010-02-16T23:27:00.006-05:00

When his daddy walked in the door from work this evening, he managed to lift his little head from the soft pillow on the couch.

"I'm sick, Daddy." He whispered.

"I've throwed up. At least two times!"

To prevent any undue concern, however, he uttered this reassurance, "But don't worry. She's going to make me all better."

While that weak little pointer finger lingered in my direction, I exchanged a sheepish grin with daddy.

That's quite some trust, isn't it?

You know... my dad's really sick right now. And while his faith has so far been a tremendous encouragement to us, I just realized what a comfort that level of TRUST must be to him.

"I'm sick. But don't worry. He's going to make me all better." And his finger points heavenward.

That's quite some trust, isn't it?

Now.. unfortunately in this circumstance, my medical savvy is limited to pushing popsicles and spraying lysol. Basically, there's not a whole lot I can do for him.

But our God... our Healer... our Provider. Basically, there's NOTHING he can't do for us.

He is so very worthy to be trusted.

Isaiah 26:4 (Message) "Depend on God and keep at it because in the Lord God you have a sure thing."

Shredded

2010-02-14T23:13:00.003-05:00

I should have known.

I should have known when I bought the 30-Day Shred by Jillian Michaels one night and woke up sore the very next morning.

...Before I even opened the DVD.

I wish I could explain how sore I feel after 3 days of actually completing (and by completing, I mean "attempting to complete") the workouts.

I'm really enjoying it, though (and by enjoying, I mean "Why, oh why, do I have to subject my poor body to this incredible amount of torture???!!!").

Drew's even been working out with me (and by working out with me, I mean "standing in front of the screen, moving my free weights into another room right before I need them, and sitting on my exercise mat eating a popsicle while I do my crunches on the cold tile floor").

But if I want to get back into shape (and by back into shape, I mean "I'd like to trade my entire physique in for, oh... let's say... Heidi Klum's??), I am going to give it my all!

Reaching...

2010-02-10T12:21:00.002-05:00

For parents of newborns, it's all about those little milestones.

The first time they smile, the first time they track you across the room, the first time they laugh, roll, reach, sit, eat from a spoon.

There are so many firsts packed into the first year that I find myself eagerly anticipating what each new day might bring!

Miss M has done many of the three-month old "firsts", but just this morning, as I watched her "talk" to her dangly carseat toys, I wondered when she would start to reach for these familiar objects. Right now, the only connection she's made with her own hands is that they taste pretty good. So, she spends her days gnawing and drooling on two tiny clenched fists.

But so far, she has been cognitively unaware that those hands can touch the shiny happy dangly objects dancing in her face.

Until this morning. Right in the middle of my Bible study. I had her laying on a chair next to me, and while I attempt to watch the video, she cooed and played beside me.

And then she did it! She reached up with the skill of a marksman and grabbed onto the shiny, crinkly, bright red....

wrapper of my Ghiradelli dark chocolate square.

Oh darling! You have good coordination AND good taste.

Mommy is SO proud!

A Lesson He Can Take to the Bank...

2010-02-06T09:47:00.001-05:00

Hopefully the bank will start paying interest on lessons learned. Because I don't think he'll have much money sitting in there any time soon.

I'm trying to teach Drew about money. We have 3 jars (Give. Save. Spend). We've had them for a while now, but I'm the most inconsistent parent on the planet. SO... some weeks he gets an allowance, some weeks he doesn't. Sometimes birthday and Christmas money make it into the jars, and sometimes they don't.

But now that I'm doing the Financial Peace University (Dave Ramsey's stuff), I have a new resolve to start my child early on financial responsibility.

(By the way, who WOULDN'T have a new resolve when shown one of those compound interest charts. You know.. the ones that tell you that if you'd just put a dollar a year away when you were five years old, you'd be able to retire on $70 million?!?!?! Yeah, my math might be off a bit, but that compound interest makes you want to stop every toddler on the street and beg them to start SAVING!!!).

Anyway...
So, Drew. Money. Lessons.

I gave him a dollar the other day for doing his chores the previous week. Added to some money he already had, my son stuffed his $3 in a wallet and begged to come help me do my weekly grocery run. On the way to the store, I reminded him that one of those dollars needed to be split between his "Give" and "Save" jars. The other $2 could be spent however he saw fit.

Well, he saw "fit" as soon as the automatic doors slid open. Because, just inside the doors of the superstore, THE CLAW beckoned my son. You know the one. That arcade game with the claw-like arm. You feed it quarters in the ill-fated attempt to win a ten cent plastic dinosaur that is way too heavy for the claw to ever pick up. And even if it DOES happen to grip one of the cheap toys below, you know that your prize is just going to fall from it's grasp somewhere along the mile-long journey it must make to the exit chute.

So, Drew stopped frozen in his tracks and announced, "This is what I'm spending my money on!"

"No!" I pleaded. "You don't want to spend all your money on this game, buddy. No one EVER wins this game. You're going to spend a dollar and walk away with nothing. Let's go look inside the store for a little toy. Maybe some candy! How about some gum?"

But his mind was made up, and it was his money, after all. So I handed over 4 quarters and took one of his dollars from him.

The first two quarters met their inevitable fate.

I tried again, "See buddy! Nobody wins at this game. Let's save your other quarters. With the dollar you still have, you could get something really nice inside!"

"I'm trying again, mom! One more time!"

sigh...

He loaded up the machine and it sprang back to life. The claw plunged down toward the pit of plastic trash. And it reemerged with a plastic dinosaur firmly in it's grip.

Drew's eyes bulged out of his head as we looked at each other in disbelief. We watched as that little green dinosaur safely made the journey to the drop-off. And he squealed with delight as he reached his little hand into the machine and pulled out his treasure.

"Woohoo!" he shouted as I ushered him into the store, still a little bewildered. "I'm going to play that game EVERY TIME I come here now!"

As I contemplated where my lesson had gone wrong, and how I could redeem the teachable moment, we moved on. He began plotting exactly how he wanted to spend his second dollar.

We visited the toy aisle, and I was pleased with his decision making skills. Nothing in his price range peaked his interest, so we decided to do our grocery shopping and see if a piece of candy might fit his budget and appetite.

The Valentine's aisle held oodles of promise, and it was no time before he found a giant orange heart-shaped lollipop for... ONE DOLLAR!

As he reached for his selection, I offered to put the candy into our shopping cart with the warning, "You should let me hold that. If you drop your lollipop on the hard floor, it'll shatter into a million pieces."

"No thanks, I'll hold it really tigh..... oops...."

There it was, on the floor. Shattered into a million pieces (ok, maybe ten).

My first lesson had backfired at the arcade game, but I could taste redemption. This was an "I told you so" and "You break it you buy it" all rolled into one.

I began my lecture as we moved on (with Drew and his broken lollipop now safely seated in my shopping cart). He quietly listened as I maneuvered through the aisles. After a few minutes of thoughtful silence, he spoke up.

"You know what, mommy?! I am SO glad that my lollipop broke into so many pieces. Now, when I unwrap it, I'll have one for tomorrow, one for the next day, and every day ALL WEEK!"

So, what here's what I learned on our trip to the store.

Two dollars will buy a four-year old boy a ten-cent plastic dinosaur and a broken lollipop and the BEST TIME EVER at the grocery store.

It will concurrently prove to a mother of a four-year-old that while some money lessons might be lost on the kid, the example of positive thinking and exuberant joy should NOT be lost on the grown-up.

And that's a lesson you can take to the bank!

Girl Talk

2010-02-05T09:42:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, we just need some good conversation with another woman.

With that in mind... and my new free Vimeo membership up and running...
I bring you "Girl Talk".

Just so you can periodically be a part of my stunningly deep conversations with my daughter.

Girl Talk from Jennifer Dunlap on Vimeo.

Update on Baby Liam

2010-02-03T10:39:00.000-05:00

Several months ago, I introduced you to baby Liam. He was a little boy in China. Tens of thousands of miles and dollars separated him from the family who would bring him "home".

There was a garage sale fundraiser... a carwash... blue bracelets... all to raise awareness and funds to help bring this little orphan to his forever family.

And I just wanted to share this video with those of you who invested your prayers, your thoughts, your time, and your dollars to help bring Liam home.

This is, by no means, the end of the story... but it certainly is a good way to begin his "Happily Ever After."

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Telling Jokes

2010-02-02T09:39:00.000-05:00

"Hey there, Big Brother! Can you tell me a joke?"

"ooh... I love Knock Knock jokes. Who's there?"

"I think I see where you're going with this one..."

"HA! HA! Oh, Big Brother... you never disappoint!"

And the Winner Is...

2010-02-01T09:12:00.003-05:00

And the Winner of the cookie bouquet from Kookie Krums is...

True Random Number Generator

Result:
1
Powered by RANDOM

KRISTEN!

Congratulations, Kristen! I'm so happy that you won, and I'll get in touch with you to find out where to send your cookie bouquet!

Reading this blog post may help you burn some calories

2010-01-29T13:27:00.006-05:00

...Because I'm about to make you jump around (OK, did you just get "Jump Around" by House of Pain stuck in your head, too? Yes, I was in high school in the early 90's, why do you ask?).

First, I want to remind you about my contest that ends TOMORROW! Click here to read the post. Click here if you'd like to jump on over to Kookie Krums and place an order.

Next, I am so excited to make a belated announcement about my dad's new blog! (I'm way behind on this, as I think he already has five posts up.)

My dad was recently diagnosed with Amyloidosis and Multiple Myeloma. And although the diseases are out to get him physically, I am grateful that there are two things these monsters can't take away: his faith and his sense of humor.

You'll find both at "A Cheerful Heart Is Good Medicine".

So, if you haven't visited yet, I'm incredibly excited to introduce you to my dad and his blog. While he's in the hospital, different members of the family will take turns updating everyone on his status. It'll be a great place to follow his story and get specific ways to pray for him. I'd love it if you'd check it out

And if you want to bookmark the page, his blog address is www.bobbugg.blogspot.com

Are you working up a blog-hopping sweat yet? I hope so, because...

I came to get down
I came to get down
So get out yo seat and jump around!

A Favor?

2010-01-27T13:55:00.000-05:00

Hey there! How you doin'?
Me? I'm just hanging out.
Listen... Could you do me a favor, though, Mom?

Could you just hand me that paci over there? That would be swell.
Thanks!

A Boy

2010-01-25T22:57:00.003-05:00

The light is blinking on my home phone's answering machine as I clean up the kitchen tonight. It's a message from the school's administrative office. My Kindergartener's online registration needs to be updated by such-and-such a deadline.

I make a mental note as I scoop my sleeping boy off the couch. Those long legs, bearing a matching set of skinned up knees, wrap around my waist and I hurry to deposit him in his little bed.

The ever-present reminder of KINDERGARTEN THIS FALL (!!!) has made me more than a little wistful. I watch my nearly-five-year old sleeping with a countenance as soft and angelic as my newborn baby's.

How can that little boy be old enough for Kindergarten?

Don't get me wrong... I mean, he sometimes acts a little more like he's thirty.
("Hey Mom! Good morning, how's your back feeling today? I think I'll have a blueberry waffle as soon as I get dressed")

At other times, he seems to only muster the maturity of a toddler.
("Drew! Get that action figure out of your mouth! We don't put toys in our mouths, son!!! It's gross AND dangerous!")

Somtimes he cries when another child accidentally steps on his foot.
But he won't shed a tear when he acquires a double dose of scraped knees on the playground at school.

He dresses himself, feeds himself, monitors his own behavior ("Mom, I'm turning off the T.V. because Sponge Bob is coming on and I know you don't like that show!").
Yet he still must wear a Pull-Up to get him through the night.

He can carry his sister across the house, holding her securely in his strong arms.
Those same arms, however, get tired and restless after holding a bottle to her mouth for more than 60 seconds.

His manners... impeccable.
Unless, of course, he's interrupting my conversation with another adult to demand food or drink or a piece of gum.

His little legs can pedal a bicycle more than 7 miles when he's challenged to keep up with his daddy on a Saturday morning ride.
But he's got a good mind to use those legs to stomp and kick and throw quite a tantrum when he's told to come in from playing.

We're crossing a bridge from "little" to "big" boy.
And when he insists on riding his bike across that bridge, I can barely keep up.

I can barely stand to keep up.

Miracle Gro

2010-01-22T22:16:00.005-05:00

Perhaps we should stop putting it in her bottles?

I don't know... what do you think?

Miss M at one month:

And at three months:

Sorry to make this post short, but for some reason I just remembered I needed to call the chiropractor.

A Typical Conversation

2010-01-21T19:35:00.002-05:00

A typical conversation with Drew usually goes something like the one we had today:

"Hey Mom, If God is right here next to us, why can't I see Him?"

Well, because He's so big and so holy that you can't see Him with your human eyes... not the way you can see other people.

"What's HOLY mean?"

Um... beautiful, amazing? Here's an example. You know Moses from the Bible? Well, one time he only saw the back of God's clothes and his face glowed for weeks. Now that's a holy God!

"Huh..."

A few minutes passed, then I heard him singing.

"Holy, Holy, Holy"

How sweet, I thought.

He continued,

"Holy Guacamole!"

Ah... that's my son.

"Hey Mom!"

Yes, Drew?

"You went to Guacamole, didn't you?"

You mean Guatemala?

"Yes, Guatemala! That's it. But they sound alike, don't they?"
"Guacamole. Guatemala."

You're right they do.

"Guacamole, Guatemala. Guacamole, Guatemala. Guacamole, Guatemala."

Yes, buddy. Good talk.

"Table for Two"

2010-01-19T09:20:00.005-05:00

Never have sweeter words escaped my lips.

I stole my man away last night after a last-minute phone call to the world's best babysitter (GRANDMA!).

I realized yesterday that we had not yet celebrated his birthday... and if we didn't do something last night, it would be another two weeks before we had another opportunity to be together. (Yes, our calendars are THAT full for the next couple of weeks - it's terrible).

So, Grandma came over and we hurried out. We considered dinner and a movie but never made it past dessert.

For two hours, we just sat in a restaurant and enjoyed eachother.

There were no dishes to clear away. No milk spills to clean up. No bribing any children to eat "one more bite". No crayons falling on the floor. No pacifiers falling on the floor. No spit-up or drool to wipe away. No "Shush"-ing. No rocking. No potty breaks. No diaper changes.

At our tiny little table for two, there was just good food and better conversation. We discussed the "big" topics: Kindergarten, finances, goals for the year. We discussed the little stuff, too: How much Drew liked the chicken fingers at "Red Blobsters", and how I was convinced that Miss M almost said "Thank you" the other day (she's brilliant, I tell you!).

We laughed a little and smiled a lot. We ordered dessert. I forgot about my "Points" and ate two bites of a delicious, gooey, carmel-drenched brownie topped with melting ice cream.

And the hand I grabbed as I walked back to the car was not the habitual gesture of protection, but one of affection.

When we got home, one child cried because he missed us, and the other slept soundly because, quite frankly, she didn't miss us at all.

We jumped back into bedtimes and bottles without missing a beat.

Because it was good food last night.
For our tummies and our souls!

Thirty-something

2010-01-15T10:41:00.003-05:00

Thirty-something plus one today...

Happy Birthday to a man who has a heart for the Lord, a mind for business, and an unwavering devotion to his family.

I'd mention something about those rock-hard abs - but seriously, our parents read this blog, too!

I love you.
I admire you.
I respect you.
I'm grateful to God for you.

And most days, I'm still amazed that I snagged you as my hubby!