sweet stranger

today has been one of those days. the kind of day where i flipped off the flashing speed limit sign that alerted me to my 4 mile over the speed limit infraction.  dont judge.

this juvenile middle finger outburst was precipitated by a crazy morning of a crying baby serenade while trying to get the little people out the door. on the upside, i now have a few additions to my blog series, 'sidwbf' otherwise known as the 'shit i do while breast feeding'. trust me, i plan on nominating myself for some kind of shiny medal that has been wrapped around a shiny bottle of cabernet for the things i find myself doing all while keeping ace quiet, happy and fed. today, i put socks, shoes and a coat on jw while nursing and fixed gks hair. it wasnt pretty, it wasnt graceful, but it was all done in peace and blessed quiet.

i proceeded to spill my morning cup of joy all over myself rushing to the car and managed to put on my makeup in its entirety before realizing i had forgotten THE holy grail of makeup until i was done...under eye concealer...otherwise known as magic make up crack for sleep deprived eyes. if i was on a deserted island and could only have three things, im only sure one of them would be concealer, less i get rescued without it.  anyway, it was the kind of morning i wished i could do over. in slow motion and silence. once the big little people were at school, the screaming one and i headed to target. it was on our way, with coffee still pooling in my lap and baby still serenading me from the back seat that the flashing rules police got the bird.

at target i unloaded all 300 square feet and 40 lbs of gear that new moms travel with into the cart and realized the future opera singer was asleep.  thank you, Jesus.  i began to imagine how blissful and relaxing it would be to peruse aisle after aisle of crap i didnt need in sweet holy silence.

while momentarily lost in brief happy thoughts, i failed to notice the sweet sweet 85 year old lady checking out my sleeping baby, who was completely covered, in his carseat. she looked at me and saw a relaxed and happy mama, a far cry from the crazy foul gesturing mess from a moment ago and simply asked to see him. i hesitated, wondering if it was worth the risk of him waking up and i briefly considered lying and saying there wasnt any baby in the car seat, but alas i caved and lifted the flap letting all the glorious fluorescent lights of the store cover him. she smiled the kindest smile and whispered to enjoy every minute before walking slowly away with short shuffling steps.

enjoy every minute?? where was she an hour ago when i was a lactating, dark eyed, ear drums bursting mess?  i stood there for a moment and looked over at ace who was now wide awake. there was my sweet, fat, healthy baby with the bluest eyes squinting under the lights of the store and i realized in that instant, this kind woman, a total stranger reminded me to experience what i had allowed the hectic pace of my morning to rob me of. pure joy. pure gratitude. pure happiness. i have a baby. a sweet precious and healthy baby with fully developed lungs that allow him to scream healthy cries whenever he feels like it.

can i possibly enjoy every minute of every day?  nope.  i cant.  and there was the sarcastic sliver of me that wanted to chase her down when he started crying in aisle 9 just to see if she was enjoying 'every minute', but i didnt.  instead, i realized that while i dont have that drug or gene in me that allows me to exist in a permanent state of bliss, i can tread water between the waves of embracing the crazy and enduring the chaos with the constant undercurrent of love and gratitude.  that i can do.  thanks little lady.  thanks.

entitled

the other day i was discussing with the peach a variety of topics ranging from the likelihood of rapunzel being non fiction, to the tooth fairy getting lost on her way to our house to the idea that nobody actually owes her anything. she looked at me like i was all crazy and what not, but i continued to explain the idea that the sooner she doesnt expect things to be given to her, the faster she will be truly appreciative and content with what she already has. i told her how thankful i was to be able to provide her with all of her needs and some of her wants...it blesses me to bless her, but when we start to expect everything we want in life and we become fixated on what others are receiving, it shifts our focus from being grateful for what we do have and consumed with what we dont have.

this is not rocket science, its an incredibly basic life principle and yet i am freakishly (new fave word) astonished/shocked/disgusted at how some adults have completely missed this concept. its as if the grateful and content ship has sailed in and out of their lives a thousand times and they repeatedly chose to not get on board, but instead chose to set sail in the opportunistic/entitled ship. and as one who has watched a few people on that second vessel, the waters are choppy to say the least as they are battered by waves of disillusionment, bitterness and envy. they become opportunistic in what others can and should do for them and grow fixated on what hasnt been done. sounds like fun, doesnt it?

but this happens. all. the. time. to people who have SO much. tons, really, but regardless of how much they have, they are constantly focused on wanting more or wanting what someone else has been given. how can anyone truly be happy for more than a minute at at time if they operate from a place of opportunistic entitlement?

they cant.  

they exist with anger and resentment hovering just below the surface of themselves because they think they are owed more than what they have.  more attention.  more money.  more stuff.  more chances.

the truth is, we have been given so much we arent deserving of, a place in the kingdom, a life eternal, grace to cover our multitude of sins and the lavish love of our Father.  how can we accept all of these and still whine and complain about what He hasnt given us.  ugh.  its nauseating to listen to, witness and hear and yet, i have been guilty. guilty. guilty.

and i dont want to repeat myself a thousand different ways (which i tend to do when i find my soapbox)   but i cant help myself.  really, i cant.  because i feel this giant responsibility to help my people crack this code before adulthood.  i mean, nobody enjoys being around kids that are entitled, but adults...thats even more annoying and sad.

so, i will try and fix my eyes on the tremendous gifts that have been given to me on the cross and do my  best to pass the idea of contentment and gratitude onto these little people.  because regardless of the barrage of constant bs that is being sold to them from every angle today, as sons and daughters of our King, they have already been given way way way more than enough.  

week. end.

yes, the weekend eventually had to end and since i desperately missed my better half and little people i was actually very ready to head back to the mothership, but man was it fun.  three days of laughing so hard my weak sauce abs ached as though they'd actually had a work out and enough gin and tonic to keep the days blurry and blissful.

better half did an absolutely stellar job of caring for our brood and giving me a quick vacay to celebrate one of my nearest and dearest.  the kids had an altogether spectacular time with their all star daddy and i added to the incredibly long list of why i adore him so.  there is no way i could step into his office and not make a colossal mess of things while he was away and while i get the difference in our roles, after all he is a parent and i am not in the military, i was wowed by him (this seems to happen a lot) at the ease with which he seamlessly took over the full time parent role.

a long weekend in tucson arizona is just what i needed to reaffirm my love of time with the girls, pools and skydiving as well as confirm my aversion to extreme heat.  even a dry heat...which i was reminded of constantly while visiting the oven desert known as tucson.  the mountains are stunning and the ac is intense, but i think a winter visit would probably make breathing easier.  i waffled between feeling like i was laying in an oven and standing in front of a blow dryer on high heat and i found it highly amusing to hear locals remind me that it was simply a 'dry' heat and i had the unfortunate task of enduring humidity (gasp!) in omaha.  i dont prefer either and really dont enjoy a spitting contest of which is worse, baking in an oven or shouldering the immense weight of humidity...i just know im a spring/fall/winter kind of girl.

we ate enough fondue to tip the scales and had icy cold cocktails with shmancy made up names that i would never make like white peach hibiscus margaritas...hibiscus?  who knew how delish it could make a margarita.  we went to a sky diving tunnel where we flipped, flopped and flew around like socks in a spin cycle and laughed. so. much.  we celebrated a remarkable friend in remarkable fashion while soaking up a gor.geous resort, retinae burning sun and some much needed much loved girl time.

me thinks we should find reasons to do this more often...only next time with all of our better halves in tow....

over. the. top.

i am in the midst of recovering from a fantabulous surprise birthday weekend planned by my uber amazing better half.  a weekend i am so completely undeserving of and grateful for that highlighted how incredible he is and how ridiculous i look and sound on video.  seriously, y'all...it was UGLY.

picture a super screechy high pitched monkey repeating the same redundant question over and over and over...i screeched, 'are you serious?' no less than 15 times while answering my front door over and over and over as dear friends arrived from across the country to surprise crazy, unprepared (and by unprepared, i mean unshowered), one year older me.

once i got over the shock and awe and my weird high pitched voice went back to normal (margaritas really do have healing powers) i was able to relax and soak up two days of awesomeness planned by mr. awesome himself.  at the end of the two days i was left feeling like id been rolled over by a giant love truck, with blessings toppling out the top and hitting me upside the head as it went by.  yep.  thats pretty much how it felt.

the truth is, i have the most amazing people in my life.  i have parents that are my heroes and best friends.  i have family that bring complete joy to my days, children that make motherhood the greatest love of my life, friends near and far that 'get' me and love me in spite of myself and then, as if all of these weren't enough, i get HIM.  this incredibly great guy who doesnt age (for real) who fills up my world with love.

i could not have imagined the weight of His gift to me 12 years ago when He gave me you.  i could not have seen what the future would hold for us nor the ebbs and flows that life had in store.  i simply could not see a future without you in it.  and what i want you to know is i am so profoundly grateful that God, in His infinite wisdom and unmatched generosity answered prayers i had yet to pray when He made you the one id do life with.  thank you.  thank you for making me the luckiest woman in the world and bringing buckets of love and balance and kindness to my days.  you are over the top ahhmazing and i am over the top amazed.

s.i.d.w.b.f. #1

i wish there was some uber catchy acronym for the shit i do while breast feeding. being a military wife has me completely conditioned to the need for needless acronyms. i cant help it, as much as i want to laugh at the absolute absurdity of some of the acronyms i hear on a daily basis, i have a touch of acronym envy, otherwise known as a.e. at the fact i cant come up with a clever one for the shit i do while breast feeding. one of my fave nonsensical military acronyms is tdy. it means temporary duty. im not sure why they add the 'y', but ive always thought of it as meaning 'yobyyoself' awhile. either way, i do loads of shit while nursing ace and while i would love to say 'shit' less, it is altogether fitting for this first installment of the s.i.d.w.b.f.

i was chatting with another newcomer to the 'club of three' the other day and we established we are in the midst of challenging moments more so than challenging days. the craziness comes in waves with massive undercurrents that leave me feeling like im gasping for air and being drug through razor sharp sand all the while hearing a constant litany of requests/demands by small people with big voices who incidentally have very little understanding of patience. in their defense, some of their needs are urgent and making them wait, even while im meeting the urgent needs of another, could have dire consequences for me. and really, i dont need anymore of those in my day.

the other day, after dropping gk off at her work release program (aka kindergarten), jw and i were serenaded all the way home by one screaming, hungry baby ace. i really think he is the loudest of all three of our people which is rather impressive if youve ever heard jack, the 3 year old with the voice of a 4o year old trucker, chatting up a room. lets just say his voice carries. anyway, we flew into the garage and ran out of the car like it was on fire in a rush to get inside and stop the screaming baby. as soon as we were inside, i started feeding ace and enjoying the quiet. 42 seconds later j informed me he needed to poop. great. i couldnt quit feeding ace this early into his breakfast or he and i would have both had a morning milk bath (tmi??) so i just walked with the baby and used my one free arm to hoist 38 lbs of j onto the potty all the while wondering where in the house he and his sister had left the stool that would have made this little joyful job unnecessary.

with j where he needed to be, i went back to the couch to continue feeding the baby who was somehow unfazed and oblivious to the constant movement. i swear it wasnt even 30 seconds later when j yelled he needed his bottom wiped. really. this is a task he usually handles on his own, but this morning, because the stars had all lined up just perfectly, there was apparently loads of shit everywhere and he really really really needed me. where is the awesome button? the one i get to press every time something awesome happens and at the end of the day it tallies the awesomeness and pours my glass of wine accordingly?

so, once again i trekked into the bathroom which now smelled comparable to a carnival porta potty (his voice isnt the only resemblance he has to a 40 year old trucker) and began the joyful job of wiping his rear while STILL breast feeding the baby. this is where i will spare you the majority of details except to let you know j wasnt exaggerating. he really did need me and i felt like i deserved a standing ovation, medal and shower when i emerged from the bathroom.

i didnt get any of those things, but i did get a cup of coffee and the satisfaction of knowing im capable of doing more than i originally thought to balance this blessed life with three. and at the end of the day, regardless of the 'awesome' moments tally, i would seriously not t.t.l.f.a. or trade this life for anything.

outrageous

you know its bad when you go to check your blog and as you type the address into your browser, your computer doesn't even remember it. its simply been that long. and while the lapse in posts has been great, its not for a lack of countless thoughts, rants and otherwise meaningless inner dialogues ive had over the past several months. the truth is ive had a baby which is awe-some to the hundredth power, but with that awesomeness comes the greatest little joy giver and cutest little time stealer. ever. i am amazed at how quickly a free hour evaporates into a free minute and the list of crap that doesnt get done multiplies exponentially. im also marveling, sometimes in horror, at the amount of crap i do while breast feeding, but thats an entirely different post. such is the blessed season.

so what i really want to know is in the midst of your crazy, busy, amazingly blessed life, what outrages you? and even more importantly, what are you doing about it?

you see, ive had a zillion different parts of my days i feel like sharing. seriously. a zillion. but, then the next day happens, sleep deprivation takes over and i move on. but the one question that has been nagging at my inner dialogue and robbing me of comfort at my core is this one.

i know we live in a world where we are saturated with shocking stories and tragedies. where it is easy to grow desensitized and weary at its vastness, but i cant shake the feeling that we have been given this restlessness for a reason.

there are men without conscience who are buying and selling and robbing young girls and boys of their childhood and adulthood. there are children living in paralyzing fear across the world and across the street. boys and girls dying to be thin. or loved. or straight. the forgotten elderly, the neglected widows and orphans, the hungry child who carries hunger pains and hopes every minute of the day, longing and waiting for his stomach and soul to be filled. those courageously living under the immeasurable weight of oppression and depression, longing for someone. anyone. to simply share their burden and lighten their load. to notice.

the truth is, there isnt a shortage of completely outrageous and heartbreaking realities around us. and i dont pretend to know what outrages you, what causes your soul restlessness and prompts your heart to move, but i do know what outrages me and the truth is i am challenged to do more.

we have been called as a people to serve the broken, hurting and lonely. to take the blessings we have been sleeping in and under and living in and bless others. to stop hoarding our time and our money like its ours to keep and start throwing it at those who need it most in the name of the One who gave it to us in the first place. packaged nicely and neatly and given to us in a shower of health, finances, time and gifts.

we have been given so freakishly much and to keep it all to ourselves, only sharing with those we know and love seems crazy to me. and comfortable and easy and completely understandable. i am so shamefully guilty of this, of only giving when its convenient and easy. of resisting the stretch of my own finances and choosing to stay comfortable while others break and suffer under the weight of my selfishness. i think about how desperately i want to raise children who know His goodness and faithfulness, who live a life dependent on Him and in service to Him and yet, every time i choose to give 'comfortably', i rob them of the chance to see what living and giving sacrificially really looks like. how can i hope to raise selfless, compassionate, empathetic and generous kids if they never see us stretching ourselves and our finances, trusting in Him while we give generously in His name?

i am so thankful for a God who continues to beckon me to live boldly and generously to those He has placed on my heart, forgiving my past and giving me purpose in spite of my selfishness and human greed. i want to move toward living a life that outrageously changes the stories and tragedies of what outrages me. i want to answer the restlessness in my spirit with service, giving from what i have been so abundantly given.

this is a tall order, one i am sure to fail at time and time again, but to not aim for this, to not answer this clear call to my soul would be to deny id heard the call in the first place and that, im afraid, would be an outrage to the One who stirred my heart in the first place.

so, what outrages you? and more importantly, what are you doing about it?

dilemma

so i know ive been incredibly lame with posting and the truth is ive simply adjusted my expectations of myself and now that i expect to never post, im feeling much much less like a failure. this is mostly for me and about me so im trying super hard to not feel guilty about dropping the blog ball. i actually do write randomly and then decide not to post it for fear of being a little too over exposed...ie, when i go off on a tangent about a 'hypothetical' situation that isnt so 'hypothetical' and even the biggest moron with an iq of a stoned sheep could connect the dots and realize in an instant i was in fact referring to an incident involving them...so, i vent, feel better and another month slips with nothing im able to share, with you that is. however, yesterday was so super fun and i just feel like its worth mentioning.

so im about a week out from having our third baby. crazy. on many many levels. the thing with me and pregnancy is i am wholly consumed with gratitude and wholly consumed with misery...i would not have believed the two could possibly coexist if i wasnt currently hanging out with both of them. in fact, i think, i may have even tried to give someone the solution to their supposed 'misery' years ago (prior to my preggo days) as trying to simply maintain a level of gratitude that doesnt allow for any misery...i was SO incredibly wise at 22. but, here i am on round three of baby growing and i couldnt be anymore thankful to have this sweet bundle of goodness coming our way in a week and couldnt be anymore ready to stop puking and feeling like total shiat most of the time.

my first two rounds in preggieville had me poppin the zofran (anti naseau tabs) for all 40 weeks and puking most days to include the morning of both inductions. this baby, who briefly achieved fcs (favored child status) gave me a much needed, much welcomed surprise when at 20 weeks, i all but quit throwing up! of course there was the occasional out of nowhere puke, but by and large, i was feeling pretty flippin okay. but then came the eye infection and return of the puke that landed me in the er and caused bleeding out my lower lid every time i threw up...i was incredibly hot, im just sayin. this was followed by this weeks first ever adult ear infection/sinus infection combo that had me crying like a three year old while holding my ear...wish i was kidding. good times.

the great news is there is an antibiotic i am taking for said sinus/ear infection...it just causes vomiting. fan freakin tab u lous. which brings me to yesterday....

yesterday i was finally feeling good enough to venture out and with baby arriving and my time of not lugging newborn with me everywhere i go running short, i headed out for some retail therapy. mainly, the makings for sugar cookies and some butt paste for baby, but whatevs, i was alone and on a mission. and hungry. i vaguely remembered someone sharing with me that mexican food causes labor and while im highly doubtful of any and all tidbits of knowledge that dont make sense, i figured it was worth a try, it sounded good and since i am totally unwilling to try any of the other helpful 'hints' that supposedly bring it on, mexican food it was. within minutes i found myself eating a chicken burrito from qdoba in my car. and within a few minutes of that i found myself over the top grateful for the plastic to go bag it came in to throw it all right back up. awesome.

and then the real dilemma began. what do you do with a large bag of vomit? i mean really. what do you do? all of the dumpsters in this incredibly busy shopping center were all prettified with gates and fences and i assume hard to figure out latches. and i couldnt very well walk into the qdoba and drop it in a trash can. i began driving around omaha feeling like i had a dead body in the car. seriously. if it were donated items, id look for a drop box. a dvd, just any old redbox would do. even with a baby for the love of pete, id know to drive to a church or fire station, but a bag of warm puke?? i had no ideas but the more i drove the more disgusted i became at the whole thing and the more i started thinking of how good my story would be if i happen to get pulled over for erratic driving...'im sorry officer, i was just looking for a perfect place to dispose of this...'

truth is, im sick of being sick and now there wasnt even a convenient place to be sick. i pulled into what i thought the best option would be...a large trashcan outside a christian book store. i hastily dropped it in, hoped for a little grace and mercy (surely they have a surplus there, right? right??) and drove away feeling like i had just robbed a bank and tossed the gun and evidence. im sure ill head back there at some point and buy something to help ease the guilt and clear my conscience of the 'treasure' i left in their trash, but for now, im going to avoid going anywhere near there and not just because it prolly stinks.

so im counting down the days for this preggie puking chapter to be behind me, all the while watching my belly dance and trying to savor every last bump, flip and roll this precious little one does because at the end of the day, the misery is totally worth being this close to a miracle...

aisle 9

in light of the thousand things i have failed to post over the past umptyump months, i am a wee surprised (and embarrassed) that this is what i end up sharing with you. but, seriously, its funny. in a seventh grade humor way. i came thisclose to stopping in my tracks and thanking this young couple for giving me the best laugh id had in a loooong time (im blaming the grumpy frumpy miserable preggie ive become on my lack of good will and laughter). anywho...so im at a store enjoying some retail therapy (aka alone time making up uses for stuff i dont need at target) when i overhear a conversation at the other end of the aisle. they were young, but not super young...its amazing what i now consider young...im guessing mid twenties and they were def a sweet couple. this is their dialogue that im sure they would be totally fine with me sharing::

sweet clueless girl:: honey, i just dont see it here. you know what im talking about though, right? its that arousal stuff i need.

not so clueless guy:: no, babe. i dont know what youre talking about. this is furniture cleaner.

sweet clueless girl:: nooo, not cleaner, the arousal stuff. it sprays. its smells awesome and works great!

not so clueless guy:: you mean, aerosol? not arousal? aerosol spray? a-e-r-0-s-0-l?? air freshening aerosol spray?

sweet clueless girl:: oh, yeah. thats it. whatever, same thing.

not so clueless boy:: um, no. its not exactly the same thing. its a waaaaay different thing...

at this point i am laughing so hard i have to excuse myself from eavesdropping, i mean inadvertently overhearing their convo which im bummed about because i would have loved to hear his explanation of the difference to his adorable, vocab challenged girlfriend. so. funny. to me....in a 7th grade humor kind of way.

the anniversary post...again

i wrote this to you years ago, before the most difficult chapters in my life had been written and what i didnt know then was that you were going to carry us through a painful year as my parents struggled for health and i struggled for faith. i can never thank you enough for the unwavering support, courage and selflessness you managed to show up with day after day when i needed you most. i want you to know that on this anniversary, i am simply in awe of His generosity in giving you to me. we are so proud to be yours....happy anniversary....

2007

do you remember what was happening 9 years ago today? i was meeting you and finally showing up for a divine appointment where 'we' would officially begin. and i know you think its silly and i know you think we should stop celebrating the day we met and stick to the wedding anniversary and i know youre ready to let this date slip from your already filled up planner, but if not for this day there would be no wedding day to celebrate.

do you remember the date that wouldnt end? it was just supposed to be dinner, but an hour later we were still standing in the driveway unwrapping layers of one another as we asked a million questions and shared a million stories. by the end of the night, i knew you were definitely 'friend' material. your honesty, sensitivity, compassion, wit and those navy blue eyes won me over. at the time i was thinking of what friend i had deserving of you. clearly, we would not be an item. after all, you lacked the massive amount of baggage in need of my unpacking to be a candidate for me. who would i be to you when you were already beyond okay? what would i fix and where would i find purpose in your functional life?

do you remember pretending to be interested in my stupid political science class? so interested you asked to borrow the book and then offered to help me study for finals? i knew you were making up reasons to see me and i loved it. i felt interesting and important, that you, this incredibly busy and special 'friend' put 'time with me' at the top of your to do list.

do you remember our first kiss? its a redundant question i know since it has been the source of a playful debate for 9 years. you can try and make amendments to history on how it really went down, but we both know the truth and it scared the living daylights out of me. did you know i sat in my car for 10 minutes wondering what next.

do you remember imagining a future? over the next year and next 8 years, we would find home in one another. we would fail and forgive and fall deeper in love more times than we can count. and i would find overwhelming joy and peace and contentment. and i was right. you were and are 'friend' material. the greatest friend i could have hoped for. someone to share my future, my dreams, my insecurities and my coffee with. when i scratched the surface of you, i found a friend and soul mate. i recognized you as an answer to a prayer that i was afraid to pray. after all, what would i really do if God gave me you? my fear of ruining such a tremendous gift left me nervous at best and terrified most days. what would happen when i wasnt new and interesting and challenging? and yet, there you were day after day, month after month, year after year, showing up for our life together, building a future and laying a foundation with love, truth, faith, patience and commitment. and dont forget laughter. lots and lots of laughter.

do you remember the earliest days? the foundation may be the One who gave us to one another, but the first layer of us, the strongest one, the one that never shifts or threatens to give way is you. remarkable you. and in that moment when i realized you were the perfect 'friend', God got a hold of my heart and began handing it over piece by piece to you. and now, nine years later, the only attributes that rival 'friend' are 'husband' and 'father'.

its easy to love you. and not just because you make great coffee and killer breakfasts and you make life lighter and our future brighter. and not just because you consider our monday night football pizza and beer date sacred and because i sleep better with you next to me. and not just because your nervous giggle is the same when delivering good and bad news and it always keeps me guessing. and not just because i am healthiest and happiest with you and not just because the only person that adores you as much as i do is our beloved daughter. but because simply you are you. easy to love you.

thank you, 'friend' for making the last 9 years worth celebrating.

dear crazy mamas,

i couldnt help but overhear you today, which lets be honest, was your primary goal while ranting and raving and straight up bull shitting about your sweet (someday in therapy) 4 year olds. while im not a huge fan of mindless small talk, i have occasionally struck up conversations with fellow moms (or nannies here in northern va) and found in them new friends or entertaining acquaintances. i am one of those people (blame it on the transient 'always up for meeting people because im always relatively new' military life style) who enjoys shooting the breeze with other mamas and im always thrilled to chat with someone about something other than our little people. however, you and your crazy insecure sidekicks are so over the top, i had to leave the waiting area to keep you from seeing me rolling my eyes and updating my fb status with YOU guys in it. i had the same overwhelming feeling i have when i see clearly neglected kids at walmart. i wanted to scoop up your three, destined to have issues daughters, and take them home, let them get dirty, eat sugar and NOT practice pointing their toes. you should hear yourselves...

if there had been hidden cameras and your whole bit had been a well scripted joke to gauge other peoples reactions to your ludacris chat, itd be funny. but, there were no cameras, you werent putting on a show and you were serious. crazy serious. first of all, within 4 minutes of your unnaturally high volume conversation, i knew all your kids were in private school and that the tuition, combined with your nanny was astronomical. you worked it in seamlessly, like ive always imagined i would do if i ran a marathon or the ironman. i have a feeling i would make sure everyone knew. like if someone asked me how i was doing today, i might answer, 'great. a whole lot better than i was doing during mile 26 of my marathon two years ago.' or if they asked what i was having for dinner, i might answer, 'something low in carbs. nothing like the pasta i put down the night before my iron man.' im telling you, i could totally see myself awkwardly working my ginormous accomplishment into every conversation whether it fit or not. which is why, its painfully obvious outside your weird circle that you are awkwardly working EVERY detail of your 'accomplished' high rent life into every single conversation.

seriously, the subject of weather comes up and you mention how your hummer handles the snow while dropping your kids off at the private school (that naturally doesnt provide transportation...the nerve) and how your kids are driving you bananas because their traveling gymnastics team that typically occupies 8+ hours a week of your 4 year olds life has cancelled practice along with her piano lessons. how are you surviving these long days with your own kid?? must be horrible. when the subject of the upcoming recital came up, you rolled your eyes in disgust at how ill prepared your child is because you cant get her to practice at home. holy batshit batman, shes FOUR. and perhaps shes a little pooped out trying to keep up with the insanely full schedule you have her on.

so basically, this week, im letting you know that the next time you say something super crazy, im prolly gonna call you on it. and your two equally unstable, envious friends who happily one up each other throughout your conversation will prolly talk about me later. who knows, maybe ill make their facebook status too. i dont really care. you guys are crazy. i feel sorry for your precious girls and i hope at some point you like yourself enough to quit projecting this level of crazy on your kids.

thanks for listening. i feel soooo much betta after allowing my passive aggressive side to vent awhile.

night night

you are passed out now and its 9:18 pm. passed out in the 'youre overly exhausted after getting up at 0'dark thirty this morning' way and not in the 'had a few shiner bocks and are now unable to hang with my need to converse' way. and while i typically roll my eyes and marvel at just how quickly you can be here one minute and lost in crazy deep sleep the next, i am from my head to my toes, thankful for you. right here. right now. sound asleep next to me. tonight, i know your need for sleep is born of a long day that begins hours before i open my eyes for the first time and awaken to the coffee you have once again made and not had time to drink. you wake early, work hard and come home with just enough of you left to greet your little people, who wait anxiously and enthusiastically, noses pressed to the window most nights for your return.

and i love that our children thank God every night that 'daddy had a great day at work', having never asked the question of what kind of day you really had. they are so confident that everyday is a great day because of you and the way you scoop them up, smile at them and hold them close every time you walk in the door. its no wonder they assume everyday is a great for daddy since everyday, daddy is great to them. so, thank you for getting up, showing up and allowing me to live my dream. the one i didnt know i had until my eyes met hers for the very first time and i was lost. gone. hopelessly taken in by her and wanting more than anything to be the one she spent her days with. sometimes, in the midst of snow days and sick days and long days that bleed into longer nights, its easy to forget that it is you, waking up while the rest of us sleep that makes this life i wouldnt trade for anything possible. so, thanks, we will catch up and check in and ill unload all 24,563 words ive been saving for an adult conversation when you are less tired. no worries. ill wait. sweet dreams.

she isnt 30

those of you who know me or have spent anytime around my beloved, wicked smaht peach, know i have talked to her like she's 30 since they placed her in my right arm just over 5 years ago (the left was still holding my puke pan from labor). she has always been a pretty mature, insightful kid who is destined to be much brighter than either one of her parents. and im okay with that. in fact, i have thoroughly enjoyed her grown up logic and all of the ways it has made me think harder and faster and often times more thoughtfully about so many of life's complexities. however, every now and then, i am reminded in the most obvious of ways that she is, after all, barely 5. and although she may have some surprisingly advanced logic, at her core, she is a child, navigating this little happy world of hers with the heart and mind of a little person with limited life experience.

back in late december, while planning her upcoming january birthday bash, i asked the peach which 5 friends she would like to invite to her party. the rule at our house for these early years is the number of kids she invites needs to coincide with the age she is turning (go ahead and put your judgment away). so she rattles off her five friends and then quickly adds that she would like to invite one more. most responsible parents would simply remind their child of the rule and move on. however, this girl has me so well trained that i rarely to never give her that simple of an answer. i now predict the ensuing 3 follow up questions and try to include those answers in my initial response. sooo, i told her that i understood her dilemma and if for some reason, one of her five friends rsvpd 'no', that we would certainly extend an invite to this sixth friend. done and done. no further questions.

fast forward a couple of weeks to the hallway at gks preschool where im picking her up. while wrestling her coat, hat and mittens on, she enthusiastically tells me of some really 'great news'. when i asked what it was, she said, 'well, i told #6 today that if one of my 5 friends couldnt come, she got to be invited to my party and she thought that sounded great!' crap. of course she did. a quick scan thankfully revealed no sign of friend #6 or her mother. i grabbed her backpack and lunchbox and clumsily tried to take my own large foot out of her sweet little mouth. really, gk? really? why in the world did you say that to her?? but i knew the answer. its because shes a kid. excited about her party and anxious to get the guest list firmed up (she is at times her mothers daughter). and of course, she'd been given, perhaps in hindsight, a little too much information.

i had no words and really didnt want to have any part of this conversation in our busy little hallway, so i did what any responsible parent who was gripped by the fear of not knowing what she could possible say next would do. i scooped her up and rushed her out the door of the school like it was on fire. once in the car, i took advantage of the short ride home to talk about potential hurt feelings and why we would happily make an exception this year for this sweet, sixth friend of hers. and i couldnt help but remind myself that while she may seem older and wiser and more equipped for the world most days, that at the end of this day i am profoundly grateful that she is still simply 5. sweet. smart. shoving my foot in my mouth for me. five.

dead bolts

okay, so while i really thought id be blogging more, i now realize this goal can go ahead and join the ranks of wanting to run more and eat less cheese. clearly, i am incapable of making the time to get this done. the truth is, for the most part, my time is not my own. and before you assume im singing the 'whoa es me' mantra of a stay at home mama, let me assure you, i am living my dream and would not wish to have any other precious time thieves than the two little ones i have. and with the lumpy one in preschool two days a week this year, i have revisited the art of long lunches with friends with uninterrupted conversation free of baby wipe napkins and the responsibility of cutting up someones meal. it has been altogether fabulous. however, there are still a number of things i like to do while at home that dont include wiping noses and playing cars, dolls, trains, kitchen, doll house, etc...(this list could go on for pages...thank you, God, for imaginative children....most days).

there are really only two things i totally took for granted before having children...ie, i didnt see these entering the realm of extinction in my life as clearly as i anticipated less sleep and baby weight. they are:: phone time and shower time. who knew? apparently, along with sleep and an ideal weight, my ability to maintain a distraction free conversation on the phone as well as my ability to shower without the constant litany of questions from the other side of the door have vanished. gone. it never fails, the little people are happily playing together, practically reciting scripture in the corner until the phone rings at which time they come unglued. they instantly have 146 ailments, injuries, needs, complaints, questions, arguments, disasters and messes and complete chaos ensues within minutes. my own mom listened to my disbelief at this phenomenon, sympathetically enthralled in my predicament and offered this when i finished, 'at least you can walk away. when you were little, i was tied to the phone by one of those cords, unable to escape the kitchen.' it was at this time i realized how obvious the solution was, i am the adult. i own a cordless phone. i have a bedroom. with a lock on the door.

my plan was hatched. the next phone call i wanted to or needed to take, i was taking, undeterred by the mass chaos that ensued around me. after all, i would just retreat to my bedroom, lock the door and let my responsible 2 and 4 year old work it out, lord of the flies style. maybe santa will bring them a conch for such times as these...either way, im out. when the phone rang and it was a friend i had wanted to chat with, i tiptoed upstairs and locked my door. i experienced almost three minutes of conversation before those people picked up my trail and ended up at my door. i calmly explained id be out in a few minutes and would be happy to hook them up with whatever they needed at that time. i continued to talk while the sound of two whiny voices and 4 little hands pounded on and knocked on the door. it was a mild distraction and i was committed to my plan of just a few minutes on the phone. a moment later, it was silent and i smiled, savoring my small victory, realizing i had taught them a valuable lesson of not interrupting and learning how to entertain themselves for a few minutes. the silence lasted less than a minute and i heard a slight scratching sound coming from the other side of the door. how clever, theyve decided to play kitty or doggie and are pretending to try and get in.

i hadnt even completed the thought when the door opened and standing there with a plastic sword is bonnie and clyde. after immediately hanging up and accepting defeat, this conversation ensued::

me:: um, georgia, what are you doing?

georgia:: i picked the lock with jacks sword.

me:: you did?? how in the world did you do that?

georgia:: i just put it in the knob and turned it the other way to the unlock. it wasnt even tricky. i did it last week when i accidentally locked jack in his room. i can show you how if you want.

me:: no thanks, geogia, i think i can figure it out on my own.

im not sure what to do with this one other than realize that children have been crashing phone conversations since the beginning of phone time and i am no better, smarter or more creative than any other mom with kids before me. im considering a deadbolt, but feel that if i raise the challenge ill simply find myself with a 4 year old who will inevitably take the opportunity to hone her power drill skills. good times.

two words

its amazing how little blog time my double fly little guy, jdub, really gets. its not his fault, its mine. im busy and short on time and im depositing a few extra bucks into his therapy fund just in case (who am i kidding) he needs it later to help him process the second child syndrome. recently, i took him to his first well baby appointment. i know hes two, 30 lbs and a lumpy little man child now, but one of the most illogical ideas ever invented was the well baby visit. where you bring a WELL (not sick) child to a place where SICK children are. cr hay zeeee. ive been told by my sis in law there is apparently an office in a far off land called dallas, that keeps the two areas separate for the protection of the well people...i imagine it smells like cupcakes and serves coffee, but here, in a land called northern virginia, you wait like sneezing, coughing cattle and it smells like bad hand sanitizer. and since i dont immunize my little people until they are about two (yes, im that super weird person you judge) i dont have any reason to take them when they are well. however, as many of you with little people can imagine, im at the drs office fairly regularly for a litany of other little people illnesses like ear infections, sinus infections and strange coughs from unknown origins. so, before i start receiving hate mail about not getting my kids seen, they are seen. regularly. when they are fresh out of being well.

of course this shifts around age two when i do start taking them in for a yearly physical and occasional shot. last week began that stage for jack. he is now officially two and has perfected his own original versions of several songs although his favorite is still 'happy birthday' which he sings at the top of his lungs to his own enthusiastic applause and then asks for cake. everyday. love that kid. so last week i had both kids with me at the drs office where i packed enough crap for them to eat, break and play with in hopes of keeping them from touching all the surfaces that countless sick kids have licked and touched throughout the day. somehow, in the midst of my 60 lbs of gear, i forgot to pack diapers and while jdub has now told several people a very convincing tale that he is in fact potty training, he is in fact just lying...and pooping on himself.

so, nurse so and so asks me to strip him down to get a good weight check on him and goes as far as trying to extract the two raisins in his fist for a more accurate reading. seriously? i dare you to try and pry those nasty dried morsels of goodness from his fists. you like failure? keep trying. after a few attempts, she gave up and i put his diaper back on him while the nurse put us in our place. the waiting place. where you wait and wait and wait and wonder why you ever thought you needed this particular appointment in the first place. the doctor eventually came in and followed the script of questions about jdubs development. it went like this::

is he walking? yes, around the room right now actually.

can he jump on one foot? um, we dont typically do that at home, but given the right incentive or lack of leg, im sure he could.

does he build blocks? yes. and then he knocks them over and claps...are these real questions?

does he point? no.

how does he show you what he wants? he asks for it.

about this time, gk interrupts the interview with, 'mom, jack stinks really bad.' the dr, not deterred by the interruption continues, does he talk? yes.

does he put two words together? yes. its at this moment that jdub stops playing with cars and says with clarity and conviction, 'huge poop'.

'huge poop, mama, huge poop'. ahhhhhsome, since im fresh out of diapers. and so ended our interview. done and done. the dr left the room, i pillaged the cabinets id spent the waiting time telling the kids to not touch and swiped a newborn diaper off the top shelf for my 30 lb baby. perfect. so the lump walks and talks and poops just like every other well baby and hes not afraid to describe it in detail. good to know.

nice to meet you.

so here i am after a fairly long hiatus during which i havent necessarily taken a break from rambling, just a break from sharing. mostly because up until recently, this place where i share my everydays has always been a horribly selfishly motivated endeavor. i get to purge or unpack the details of my life in the most therapeutic of ways and at the same time journal my experiences to look back on from time to time (it slightly eases the guilt of not baby booking for my little people). the truth is, however, that while i try to be honest and transparent, authentic and sincere, there are simply pieces and parts of me i am unwilling to part with and put out there for all to see. and perhaps judge. and unfortunately, those parts have become all consuming over the past five months.

its the craziest thing (unnerving at best) to see the starkest of contrasts between who you think you are and who you really are. your tragedy, your loss, your shittiest of circumstances only reinforces who i think i am...someone who sincerely empathizes with you, grieves with you, prays for you and begs on your behalf. but, my tragedy, my loss, my shitty circumstance has introduced me to who i really am. and, while you may know me well or not know me at all, i promise you; this me, in the midst of unfathomable pain, is someone i am still getting to know and up until now im not sure i wanted you to meet.

five months and 7 days ago, my dad had a stroke. the strongest, bravest and greatest man i know was robbed of so much, but while he has fought to regain all that was taken from him, not a day has passed that i havent thanked God for leaving him here. time, i now see in the clearest of ways, is truly the most precious of gifts and i treasure the extra time God has so generously given us with him. in the days following his stroke, we all prayed, shaken but steadfast in our resolve and in our faith, full of gratitude and thanks. within days of his release home, my mother, the kindest, most generous, and easily my most treasured friend was diagnosed with a recurrence of the breast cancer that she had battled and defeated 15 years ago. it was on this day, the day of her diagnosis while still reeling from my dads stroke that i met me. the me who was not shaken, but broken. who was not faith filled, but fear filled. who was not hopeful, but angry. enraged, really. drunk on my own cocktail of rage and grief and disbelief.

and i wrote then like i write now, but to share the thoughts from those early days, to even read them now brings me face to face with someone i didnt know existed. someone incredibly lost and clinging to hope with white knuckles and weakest of grips, begging God for His mercy and divine intervention. what i thought to be true about many things shifted and gave way beneath me, but what i knew to be true has remained a steadfast foundation, sometimes that i stand on and sometimes that i cant get up from. what i know is this:: God is the same. today. as He was before my hero's stroke and my best friends cancer. He is the same. today. before pain and grief, shock and fear. before worry and sadness, doubts and disbelief. and He will be the same tomorrow. regardless of the magnitude of the situation, He is never changing. He will show up as He has faithfully done amid every moment of joy He has generously given and every tear He has wept with me. He is capable and in control, kind and in love with my parents, almighty, powerful, merciful. He has not been surprised by any of this and is holding us close while the storms of adversity rage around us just as He held us while we were drowning in a sea of joyous blessings. just putting that in size 12 font fills me with the peace and comfort so many of you have prayed for.

i am me. i am checking in, getting to know myself and letting the rest of you in on the me ididnt know was there. i am okay. and while i am a version of myself i didnt know before 5 excruciatingly long and short months ago, the more i get to know the real me, the one He has created me to be, the more intimately i am getting to know Him, the One capable of carrying all of us through this season.

nice to meet you.

so here i am after a fairly long hiatus during which i havent necessarily taken a break from rambling, just a break from sharing. mostly because up until recently, this place where i share my everydays has always been a horribly selfishly motivated endeavor. i get to purge or unpack the details of my life in the most therapeutic of ways and at the same time journal my experiences to look back on from time to time (it slightly eases the guilt of not baby booking for my little people). the truth is, however, that while i try to be honest and transparent, authentic and sincere, there are simply pieces and parts of me i am unwilling to part with and put out there for all to see. and perhaps judge. and unfortunately, those parts have become all consuming over the past five months.

its the craziest thing (unnerving at best) to see the starkest of contrasts between who you think you are and who you really are. your tragedy, your loss, your shittiest of circumstances only reinforces who i think i am...someone who sincerely empathizes with you, grieves with you, prays for you and begs on your behalf. but, my tragedy, my loss, my shitty circumstance has introduced me to who i really am. and, while you may know me well or not know me at all, i promise you; this me, in the midst of unfathomable pain, is someone i am still getting to know and up until now im not sure i wanted you to meet.

five months and 7 days ago, my dad had a stroke. the strongest, bravest and greatest man i know was robbed of so much, but while he has fought to regain all that was taken from him, not a day has passed that i havent thanked God for leaving him here. time, i now see in the clearest of ways, is truly the most precious of gifts and i treasure the extra time God has so generously given us with him. in the days following his stroke, we all prayed, shaken but steadfast in our resolve and in our faith, full of gratitude and thanks. within days of his release home, my mother, the kindest, most generous, and easily my most treasured friend was diagnosed with a recurrence of the breast cancer that she had battled and defeated 15 years ago. it was on this day, the day of her diagnosis while still reeling from my dads stroke that i met me. the me who was not shaken, but broken. who was not faith filled, but fear filled. who was not hopeful, but angry. enraged, really. drunk on my own cocktail of rage and grief and disbelief.

and i wrote then like i write now, but to share the thoughts from those early days, to even read them now brings me face to face with someone i didnt know existed. someone incredibly lost and clinging to hope with white knuckles and weakest of grips, begging God for His mercy and divine intervention. what i thought to be true about many things shifted and gave way beneath me, but what i knew to be true has remained a steadfast foundation, sometimes that i stand on and sometimes that i cant get up from. what i know is this:: God is the same. today. as He was before my hero's stroke and my best friends cancer. He is the same. today. before pain and grief, shock and fear. before worry and sadness, doubts and disbelief. and He will be the same tomorrow. regardless of the magnitude of the situation, He is never changing. He will show up as He has faithfully done amid every moment of joy He has generously given and every tear He has wept with me. He is capable and in control, kind and in love with my parents, almighty, powerful, merciful. He has not been surprised by any of this and is holding us close while the storms of adversity rage around us just as He held us while we were drowning in a sea of joyous blessings. just putting that in size 12 font fills me with the peace and comfort so many of you have prayed for.

i am me. i am checking in, getting to know myself and letting the rest of you in on the me i didnt know was there. i am okay. and while i am a version of myself i didnt know before 5 excruciatingly long and short months ago, the more i get to know the real me, the one He has created me to be, the more intimately i am getting to know Him, the One capable of carrying all of us through this season.

still

i wrote this to you a short three years ago...and while much has changed with our family, my love, respect and adoration for you have not. you are still the one i count on and look to in times of joy and times of grief. most recently, friend, you have been a rock for me, listening and praying, loving and reassuring me with eyes that see my pain and feel it too as my faith and hope have been recklessly tossed about. thank you for being more to me than i could imagine and for loving me in the most secure ways. you, my love, are worth reminding of a date 12 years ago....

do you remember what was happening 9 years ago today? i was meeting you and finally showing up for a divine appointment where 'we' would officially begin. and i know you think its silly and i know you think we should stop celebrating the day we met and stick to the wedding anniversary and i know youre ready to let this date slip from your already filled up planner, but if not for this day there would be no wedding day to celebrate.

do you remember the date that wouldnt end? it was just supposed to be dinner, but an hour later we were still standing in the driveway unwrapping layers of one another as we asked a million questions and shared a million stories. by the end of the night, i knew you were definitely 'friend' material. your honesty, sensitivity, compassion, wit and those navy blue eyes won me over. at the time i was thinking of what friend i had deserving of you. clearly, we would not be an item. after all, you lacked the massive amount of baggage in need of my unpacking to be a candidate for me. who would i be to you when you were already beyond okay? what would i fix and where would i find purpose in your functional life?

do you remember pretending to be interested in my stupid political science class? so interested you asked to borrow the book and then offered to help me study for finals? i knew you were making up reasons to see me and i loved it. i felt interesting and important, that you, this incredibly busy and special 'friend' put 'time with me' at the top of your to do list.

do you remember our first kiss? its a redundant question i know since it has been the source of a playful debate for 9 years. you can try and make amendments to history on how it really went down, but we both know the truth and it scared the living daylights out of me. did you know i sat in my car for 10 minutes wondering what next.

do you remember imagining a future? over the next year and next 8 years, we would find home in one another. we would fail and forgive and fall deeper in love more times than we can count. and i would find overwhelming joy and peace and contentment. and i was right. you were and are 'friend' material. the greatest friend i could have hoped for. someone to share my future, my dreams, my insecurities and my coffee with. when i scratched the surface of you, i found a friend and soul mate. i recognized you as an answer to a prayer that i was afraid to pray. after all, what would i really do if God gave me you? my fear of ruining such a tremendous gift left me nervous at best and terrified most days. what would happen when i wasnt new and interesting and challenging? and yet, there you were day after day, month after month, year after year, showing up for our life together, building a future and laying a foundation with love, truth, faith, patience and commitment. and dont forget laughter. lots and lots of laughter.

do you remember the earliest days? the foundation may be the One who gave us to one another, but the first layer of us, the strongest one, the one that never shifts or threatens to give way is you. remarkable you. and in that moment when i realized you were the perfect 'friend', God got a hold of my heart and began handing it over piece by piece to you. and now, nine years later, the only attributes that rival 'friend' are 'husband' and 'father'.

its easy to love you. and not just because you make great coffee and killer breakfasts and you make life lighter and our future brighter. and not just because you consider our monday night football pizza and beer date sacred and because i sleep better with you next to me. and not just because your nervous giggle is the same when delivering good and bad news and it always keeps me guessing. and not just because i am healthiest and happiest with you and not just because the only person that adores you as much as i do is our beloved daughter. but because simply you are you. easy to love you.

thank you, 'friend' for making the last 9 years worth celebrating.

eleven minutes

so ive got around eleven minutes before the lumpy one will be joining me after he hops out of his crib without any effort to blog and im thinking eleven minutes is actually a pretty long time. jack has begun climbing out of his crib with the ease of spiderman and while i was initially panicked, im now seeing it as a sign of him growing up, becoming responsible for his own sleeping habits and of course getting one day closer to being capable of making my coffee.

we just got back last night from a quick weekend trip to hershey, pa and for those of you who are exceptionally slow, that would be the mother ship of the chocolate company. i consumed enough chocolate to make me sick and the kids started and ended each day with a mouthful of sugar. we did a day at hershey park (thank you hershey man for making it a discounted day for the military) and better half and i were able to rediscover one of our first loves. roller coasters.

somehow, in spite of our shared fear of fixed heights, we both looooooooove a great roller coaster. the pics they snap mid ride always tell the tale...this time around i had one pic that looked like i was on the brink of tears (thats a good ride) and another that looked like id just been told id won a winery in tuscany (this would be a happy crazy surprised face). both of them, however, only showed one chin so i was pleased and as tempted as i was to throw down the $12 for these tacky 4x6 souvenier pics to commemorate the thrilling time, i did manage to pass on them. we spent that $12 later on a kids meal. anywho...we had a really great day and loved spending the weekend with some of our besties and the fam.

a close second to my love of roller coasters is my love of people watching and for me, an amusement park is like hitting the mother lode on this obsession. i waffle between judgment and relief (im just being honest here) as i see the landscape of our country and where i fit in. and im still amazed at the number of tattoos that everyone seems to have. as one who has longed for one since i was 15, i can now safely say that over the last 6 months (no kidding) ive decided maybe i dont want one. the truth is they seem to be the least badass thing you can do these days with everyone from soccer moms to dentists having them. and really, that dolphin i desperately wanted 17 years ago would look like a dying beached whale on my navel at this point. and of course the sun i wanted on my back would look like a tramp stamp and the turtle i wanted on my foot would look like an open wound from a distance. most recently i wanted a word (i love words) on my wrist. alas, i couldnt decide on a word and am now thankful i didnt slap one on there. i guess im just realizing a tattoo is not a wise investment for a gemini who changes her mind at least twice a minute and has the attention span of a drunk gnat. i still see one on occasion that has me a little envious, but as time goes (and i seem to grow up....imagine that) i become less and less enamored with the idea of permanently putting something on my body. my parents are not so silently relieved.

road tripping with the little people is always a pleasure as well. mind you, this was only 2 1/2 hours, a laughable amount to all you road warriors with hundreds of hours logged and the crumbs proudly stuck in between the seats marking all of your journeys. however, for us amateurs, it was a drive. before heading home i decided, in a move that i was certain would pay dividends later, to find a parking lot and slap some jammies on these over sugared, under slept kids. while it did require a bit of effort, i assured my better half it would be worth our time, making for a seamless transition from car to bed with sleeping children upon our return home.

i somehow forgot we have the only two children who are incapable of sleeping in the car. as in, gk prefers to giving us a mile by mile commentary on her ever changing surroundings and jdub prefers throwing books and blowing his nose (his new talent) in his hands. i had to explain to the peach why we were no longer eating snacks as we had just completed 48 hours of chocolate and amusement park food and while that seem to satisfy her for awhile, she eventually began questioning my mothering abilities with, 'mom, did you pack any healthy snacks for me? im really hungry'. no, georgia, nothing healthy. rule #3 of a road trip is crappy snacks that taste great, curb hunger and can also do double duty by bribing you to be quiet when your dad and i get desperate. cant really imagine getting much leverage from a carrot stick.

and so it went. for 2 1/2 hours. they were really really good even if they didnt sleep and im just counting down the wake ups until we get to start our 16 hour road trip to the beach. perhaps by then ill be splitting a tylenol pm between the two of them. ill research that for the rest of you and report back.

happy summer and happy road tripping.

got phobias?

i have many phobias im not entirely proud of...flying, bridges (not the concrete variety but the archy metal over the top kind), mice, fixed heights (as in the ledge/edge or overlook of anything) and commitment. interestingly enough, the only phobia that keeps me from living out my days to the fullest is my commitment phobia. while most people i know feel over committed, i seem to hang out in the world of the under committed. i feel like the vast majority of my time (at least in the waking hours) is spoken for by two very needy (albeit downright sweet and adorable) little people and the time that isnt theirs is ours (the family that is). parting with any of this time is as easy as giving up my morning pot of joy.

i would no more let my fear of flying keep me from seeing the world or a fear of heights keep me from experiencing the thrill of sky diving than i would let myself pass the hot donuts now sign at krispy kreme, but commitment? thats another story. i let it keep me from experiencing things all the time. i can sugar coat it under the guise of 'protective of my family time' or 'prioritizing whats best for my family', but the truth of the matter is i just dont like committing too much of MY time too far in advance. i like giving one time donations, hosting one time events, attending one time meetings, planning one time vacations. but, unfortunately, when someone asks me for more than that, i quickly retreat into 'ill get back to you' speak or 'ill think about it' (which we all know is just buying time to justify the weak answer of 'no').

and im working on it. im leading a group of high school girls on a weekly basis in our home and over the course of this year, this weekly commitment has blessed me in ways i didnt know it could. and im finally getting 'it'...the 'it' for me is that there are certain blessings that ONLY come from commitment. rewards that you can only experience AFTER truly giving of yourself on a regular basis. sometimes, as much as i crave the goodness from a one time event, i realize more and more the really great stuff only happens over time and after investing more of my selfish self than im comfortable with. this is a flaw God is working out in me one day at a time as i realize how empty my life would be without a few of my biggest commitments like my marriage, my faith, some friendships and of course this very long term commitment of motherhood. so, im on it. willing to let God work this out in me and willing to commit more of myself and more of my time. what fears are keeping you from experiencing the goodness that could be coming your way if you were willing and able to overcome them? just a thought worth unpacking when you have a minute.

crazy

im watching you now and youre staring at me. you think im crazy. and i may be. i may truly be thisclose to losing my mind. for you. you are growing and changing and challenging me in ways i didnt know existed. i am growing and learning, failing and falling. more in love with you. more in awe of you. you, my beautiful girl are a spark. a light. a fire that flickers and fades and draws me in. i stare at you a lot these days trying to catch the thief that changes you in the most subtle of ways right before my eyes. your face has thinned, your legs have grown, your tone has shifted and i missed it. im watching closer now. i dont want to miss anymore.

you are not my baby, but a grown up 4 year old with grown up ideas and grown up logic. i catch you as you race by me and i hold you, squeeze you tight and breathe you in amid giggles and pleas to be released. i have stolen more of these moments from you as you run faster and farther. and i want you to know, at 4 at 7 at 14, you will always be my baby and i will take as many moments from you that you will give me. i will share time and stop time and beg with every part of me to slow time down. i love the you i know and i love the you i dont know, the one you are becoming one day at a time. and i am privileged and proud to be yours. i love being your mommy and i love planting the seeds throughout our days that we will sow together in the future. i love that youre funny. that you amaze me with your curiosity and your questions. that you leave me dumbfounded and fresh out of answers on a regular basis. and youre learning. and im learning. im learning that the more i try and teach you, impress upon you attributes of compassion, generosity, faith and love, i am molded by our Creator to live those out in a more authentic way as well. you, sweet girl, make me a better person. the person i long to be in the eyes of my Father, is the person you are helping me become in the eyes of the most remarkable little girl ive ever known.

so, humor me while i gaze crazily and try to memorize every distinct detail of wondrous you before they change and you change and im left to discover the new you. i love you, georgia kate. thank you for allowing me to shape and mold and grow and learn with you, my baby girl.