Raising Angels

The Purpose of a Scar

2012-02-15T23:31:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, the final bandage came off of Max's nose. We kept it as clean and dry as we could but it came off anyway. Of course the plastic surgeon said this would happen, but he also paired that with the statement, "The longer you can keep that on, the less scarring you will see." Good motivation to keep it on as long as possible.

In the weeks leading up to the surgery, I worried about the surgery and Nelson worried about the size of the scar that would be left on Max's face. To me, the scar was a small price to pay. To Nelson...it was his FACE.

As the sun shone through the window in my bathroom and I finally took off the bandage that was now hanging by a thread, the scar was revealed. It was, as the surgeon warned, much larger than what we had seen on the surface. However, as far as scars go, and considering there were five stitches, I thought it looked great. I'm guessing when the irritation goes down and the skin gets a chance to heal, it will hardly be noticeable (at least that's what I told Nelson).

Tonight though, it jumped out at me when I gave Max a kiss. For a brief moment, I felt bad. Of course, every time I do this, I remind myself of Harrison Ford. He has a facial scar and did pretty well for himself...looks pretty good too if you ask me.

However, tonight I was not thinking about Harrison Ford. I was thinking about the scar. Scars serve as a reminder of how something that was hurt has healed. Max's reminds me of how scary the whole ordeal was and how little a remnant of it is left. It reminds me that we can make it. We can heal. It reminds me of God's care for my boy.

That little scar is beautiful, because it is now a part of Max. And Max, well, he's beautiful because he's Max.

A Surgical Synopsis

2012-02-13T16:37:00.005-05:00

It's taken a week of surgeries and recoveries for me to gather all the pictures and videos, but I think you’ll find they’re worth the wait.

This first photo is the last one of the cyst that was removed from Max's face. We first noticed it in October when we were at the beach. It was very small so we thought it was caused by sunscreen and sand and was just a simple blemish that would go away. Three months and three-sizes bigger, we finally decided it was something more than a pimple and went to see the pediatrician who recommended a dermatologist who sent us to the plastic surgeon who finally said he could handle it.

In the picture it looks small but under the surface it was much larger and it would have continued to grow if we didn't have it taken out.

Because he wasn't allowed to eat or drink after midnight, and he is my big morning eater, I opted to keep him up until 10PM the night before and let him eat a big bowl of cereal. We brought him to the hospital in his pajamas to allow him to sleep as long as possible before we had to leave at 6AM.

By the time we got through registration, he was ready to play. This kid is an ace at Angry Birds!

After the third medical person came to visit us in the surgical wing, he caught on to what was about to happen and got a little nervous. That didn't last for long though. Once he spotted his image in the paper towel holder on the wall, he was back to his normal antics.

We had a heart to heart with his anesthesiologist about his condition and its risks regarding general anesthesia. It was during this conversation that Max became acutely aware of the impending surgery and climbed up into my lap. The doctor explained the process he was going to use before he left to get ready.

The first step was a Versed cocktail Max drank like his normal cough syrup. "This is to relax him," explained the doctor, "as well as you. It's a lot easier for you if we don't have to pull him out of your arms and drag him kicking and screaming to the operating room. This way he won't care."

Max was hesitant to drink the stuff and complained that it tasted "yucky", but he got it all down. He continued to sit in my lap while we waited for it to do its thing.

During this time we met his surgical nurses, who made his acquaintance by giving him a shiny new car he got to carry into surgery. He played with it while I wondered when this drug was going to take him out.

When the nurse came to check on him, Nelson said, "His eyes are definitely getting heavy." Since he was in my lap, I couldn't really see him. However, when Nelson took this video, I knew Max was a goner.

The surgeon came in for the second time and told us what to expect and then the nurses came to get him. They were very sweet and empathetic. One of them took one look at my grasp on him and said, "You know, I think we'll just carry him back. That okay?"

He kissed us both goodbye and went to her without hesitation, or much body control for that matter. As she walked away with my soft lump of an angel, he rested his head on her shoulder and slurred, "I can waal-ulk." We all laughed and then he was out of sight. The doctor was right, that did make it easier.

The surgeon came in about thirty minutes later to tell us Max was fine. The cyst was much larger than he thought and he was glad we got it out when we did. He told us Max was still in the operating room and then he'd go to recovery for a bit before coming back to us.

This was the hardest part of the day for me. You mean my baby is going to wake up and I'm not going to be there? This was not how I pictured it. It's funny how knowing he was okay did not take away my fierce desire to hold him in my arms and let him know everything was okay.

I didn't have to mull that over very long though. When I heard the, "Awws," from the staff at the desk, I knew he was on his way. It was the only moment I cried. He looked so small on that big surgical bed. His body was limp, his arm was bandaged to keep the IV in place and his finger was attached to a monitor. It was not how any mother pictures her child. It mattered not one iota that he was fine. I need to have him...NOW.

As I stood over him, trying to hold back my tears, the nurse said, "Would you like to hold him?" I had my arms around him before she finished her sentence. There was some untangling of wires and lowering of the arm of the bed, but I had him and I wasn't letting go.

The staff giggled as they told us of how he was speaking in tongues to them back in recovery. They were right. It was a little disconcerting to watch him force out some slurred sounds. When he found the strength to open his heavy eyes, they were bouncing around like a humming bird at a feeder.

It was sad, scary and funny all at the same time; however, because I knew his siblings would never believe how out of it he was, we recorded it.

It took him about 45 minutes to get coherent enough for me to be able to take him home. The nurse took out the IV and Max sounded a bit like E.T. when he responded with, "O-u-c-h!" in a slow, slurred and low voice. Once the wires were out he needed to go potty.

At this point it was a lot like having an intoxicated three year old. He couldn't walk or stand, or really hold himself up. Going potty was no small feat. Trying to hold him while also trying to help him aim ended up with us both almost landing in the toilet but we made it out of the bathroom unscathed.

After that little experience, I did decide that it would be wise to take him to the car in the wheelchair since I had already sent Nelson back to work. Of course, he couldn't really sit up either and the chair was so big that we had to put him in the "Batcave" so he didn't end up on the floor. That day I thanked God he was still in the car seat because those shoulder straps kept him up on our drive home.

Once home, he was talking much better, but still not himself. He would get up and tell me he wanted to walk and then fall to the floor. I finally convinced him to stay on the couch and I sat on the floor next to him to prevent any accidents.

When it was all said and done, he ended up with five stitches covered with some steri-strips to help prevent scarring. The most challenging part was keeping those on, clean and dry for a week.

I am thankful it's over and that he did so well. I hope we don't have to do that again for any of the kids...ever.

Blessed Be the Name of the Lord

2012-02-09T21:53:00.003-05:00

Apparently, three surgeries in a week’s time are not good for blogging. It's been over a week; but considering what that week looked like, I gave myself a little pat on the back for pulling out the computer at all.

It started last Tuesday with the first (of many says my doctor) vein closure surgery. I've struggled with what I thought was one really bad vein since I was pregnant with Max and it's gotten progressively worse with time. Last summer, when I finally decided that it wasn't selfish to see if something could be done about it, I began a nearly six-month process that led to Tuesday.

The procedure is really not that big of a deal. It’s a simple day surgery that you're out for but are up as soon as it's over. You actually walk off the table, get dressed and go back home. Only when you've never had a real surgery (other than my wisdom teeth out and a growth removed from an eye-lid), it’s a little scary. Combine that with the fact that my surgery was scheduled for 4:15 AM (seriously!) at a surgical center 20 minutes away, and it made for pure exhaustion.

The day of the surgery I'm not allowed to drive or cook but other than that and the exhaustion, it wasn't too bad. The next day I was up and back to life with the help from some prescription compression hose (please don't be jealous of my stylish tan stockings that make me look like I'm 80). These things are no joke! It takes several minutes, some awkward movements and strong jerks to get the things on. The best part is taking them off at night, which, by the way, requires all the same moves as putting them on.

Thursday we had to pluck Max out of bed at 5:30 AM to have him at the hospital by 6 for his surgery at 7:30. He did great but coming out of anesthesia required total supervision. We were both wiped out.

Friday I made my first trip to a chiropractor. I feel like I've tried everything else for my muscle problems when running that it couldn't hurt to try. During the consult he assured me he could help and showed me several testimonials from runners just like me who are now running without pain. Nelson and I figured we were already going to meet our out of pocket by the end of the month so why not?

The only problem was that this first appointment involved x-rays which revealed a problem slightly bigger than a sore leg and back. When he put up the pictures, I knew exactly what I was looking at without him saying a word. First the lower back picture went up with a spine curved to the left and then the upper back image went up with a strong curve to the right. Together they made a lovely looking S-shape that showed me my scoliosis has returned. I actually felt slightly relieved to know that there was a physical reason for all the pain I've been experiencing.

This Tuesday I had surgery number two on the other leg. This time they were merciful and set the surgery for 5 AM. I am so not a morning person. I did better this go around and didn't sleep the whole day away. And this leg actually feels better than the first so that was nice too.

Today Max and I both got our stitches out and I think we're done with the plastic surgeon and I don't have to go back for more leg stuff for six weeks. Tomorrow, however, I'm having a few more tests and images done to see how we can work with the whole back issue.

I feel like I've been pretty blessed my whole life. We have experienced great health for the most part. We've had a few visits to the E.R., tubes in ears, a brief hospital stay, but other than that just your run-of-the-mill stomach bugs and colds. We thank God often for the health we've been given.

So what are we doing now that the tables have turned slightly? Well, we're still thanking God. I'm thanking God we have the means to hopefully fix the pain of the bad veins in my legs. I'm grateful that my surgery coincided with Max's. He was able to see mommy have surgery and stitches days before he did. We talked it up big and told him how cool it was to have stitches. It helped him to put him at ease about his. I even got my stitches out before he did so I could talk that up too. I was so worried that Aiden would wonder why God allowed him to have scoliosis when He healed mine. Now I can show him we both have the same thing and he'll be okay.

Of course, I'm hoping that besides the other vein surgeries I know are coming, the rest of the year will be less involved health-wise for us. A few normal check-ups here and there will be nice thank you very much. But if it's not, I will thank God that they happen in a year when we've already met our deductibles.

I am, in the midst of all this, developing an even deeper appreciation for poor old Job. He is the man in the Bible my heart always went out to. He did nothing to deserve his trials but he walked through them with a grace I pray I get. His was not a prayer made lightly. And these days lately, I've been praying with him. "The Lord gives and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."

The Pre-Surgery Soak

2012-02-01T21:05:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow is the big day. We go in at 6 and surgery is scheduled for 7:30 AM. It is a day surgery and not a big deal in the grand scheme of things that require an operation.

There's one little catch though. When the neurologist finally put a name on Max's low muscle tone, he called it Central Core Disease. Anything with disease attached to it sounds bad, but again, if I had to choose one for my son to have, this one is not too bad. When I asked the neurologist how this diagnosis would come into play, he said hardly ever. "Except," he noted, "he's at risk for Malignant Hypothermia if he ever has to go under general anesthesia." This he informed me, could cause him to go into cardiac arrest on the table. That part was scary, but honestly I thought, the kid is three, I won't have to worry about this for a very long time. In fact, I was more worried that I'd forget about it before it ever came into play.

Yet, here we are six months later. We can now add to the list of our doctors a plastic surgeon and an anesthesiologist who I won't allow to touch my son until I speak to him personally. Our plastic surgeon is amazing and said that I could tell the anesthesiologist that he can perform the sugary without having Max intubated. That's what we're hoping. He also assured me that the drugs that cause Malignant Hypothermia are hardly ever used anymore.

All good news. But then there's that crazy he's my baby and I like to be able to control things that go on in his life at this stage. I like to feel like I can protect him from all pain and everything bad. But after this and this, I know I can't, but it doesn't stop making me want to. This is why God gives children to mothers. This protective instinct, it comes with the territory.

Tomorrow we’ll hand him over and we’ll pray like crazy until we see him again. He’ll be no worse for the wear, save a few stitches. I’ll thank God for His protection and pray that this will be the end of surgeries for my children…at least for a little while.

But tonight, oh tonight was for a good long soak in the tub and a late night snack after the big kids went to bed. It was a night to relish the sweet smell of this angel in my care. It was a night for an extra snuggle and night worthy of recording the every day singing that still makes me swoon.

Pray for Us!

2012-01-25T22:08:00.003-05:00

If you're out there and you care about me and my little family, I'm asking that you throw up some prayers for us over the next few days. This is my big week of catering a meal for 100 people. It’s a rehearsal dinner for some dear friends and Nelson and Dawson will be in Saturday’s wedding.

It's also the week I've turned up with the oddest virus of all times. My legs are covered with hives from ankle to backside. Every joint in my body aches. Yesterday my blood pressure bottomed out and scared Nelson so bad he insisted I go to the doctor. My doctor thinks it's not an allergic reaction but some kind of virus, maybe the same strand that hit the boys last week. So weird, and so NOT a good time to be sick.

I laid low yesterday on doctor's orders, but today I had to will myself to feel better because, as you all know, the show must go on. Not only do I have the dinner but we're also hosting two out-of-town wedding guests.

In the midst of all this, we have 2 pre-op appointments for surgeries for me and Max next week. We've had to make an appointment with an orthopedist for Aiden because the pediatrician says he has Scoliosis. And tonight, he developed a rash similar to mine on his face. I mean seriously, I feel like we went from totally healthy to having to see four doctors in one week.

Besides all that I've made an appointment to get my way too long hair cut that I've now had to cancel three, yes three times, due to our various illnesses. This, I know is totally vain, but come ladies, I know you understand. Mama would like her hair to look nice for at least one of the three weddings this month.

In spite of all that we had a splendid time at my cousin's wedding in Illinois even though it was a whopping 1 degree when we entered the city. There was lots of snow, loads of family and hours of dancing. Pictures will come sometime after we make it through all of this.

All too often I try to do it all on my own. Please don’t worry; I have plenty of help with the dinner. I’m not crazy. However, I covet your prayers. It would be great if we could all be well for this happy occasion this weekend. Thanks!

I Get by with a Little Help from my Friends

2012-01-18T23:19:00.005-05:00

It's only Wednesday and already I've had one of those weeks. There's so much going on that it's kind of pointless to even make a list.

You know what's getting me through? Intercessory prayer is the ticket this go around. I believe in asking people who've died to pray for me.

Let me explain how I've come to this (besides the fact that I'm Catholic and the whole intercessory thing goes with the territory). When life gets tough, I never hesitate to ask my friends and family to pray for me. It probably started when school got a little more challenging. "Mom, please pray for my test today." It continued with requests like, "I have a job interview. Will you please pray?"; "I’m praying about my vocation. Pray I can hear God."; "Please pray I don't die when I jump out of this plane." The list could go on and on. Long story short, prayer works, so I use it and ask everyone to do the same.

In the last several years I have suffered some crushing losses. I've unfortunately had lots of family deaths but all of those gave me time to prepare. Most of them were suffering tremendously by the time they died so their deaths were not only expected, but were kind of a relief. I knew they were in a better place and relieved of all their pain. Last year, a priest, who was a brother to me (literally called my parents mom and dad), died rather suddenly. He was younger than me and it was the first death I truly grieved. New Year's Day I lost a dear friend and neighbor who was like a second father to me. It was totally unexpected and once again I was devastated.

Just this week I was on the phone coordinating some details for a rehearsal dinner I'm cooking next weekend for 100 people. What? I haven't told you about this? That's probably because it makes me a little anxious to talk about it. I mean I agreed to do the dinner for a guest list of 45 that's grown to 100 and I feel a bit out of my element. Anyway, I was having this conversation while I was cooking dinner and the kids were having one of these moments and well, by the time I figured out that I didn't have the answers to her questions and that the dinner was only two weeks away, I hung up the phone and was hyperventilating (Can you tell by my super-long sentence?).

I was moments away from grabbing a paper bag, which I don't have anyway and would have probably sent me over the edge, when I put down my spatula and said, "Okay Bob, pray for me. I really need your help here." You see, Bob was going to make all the Italian sausage for the dinner and he was a pro at providing food for lots and lots of people, so I figured if he can't help me physically, he could help me spiritually. Let me tell you, the moment those words left my lips (yes, I prayed them out loud because it was too noisy in my house to hear myself think), I felt peace. I could see his face and almost feel him next to me telling me to calm down, everything will be fine.

Bob was the supreme organizer. Who better to line things up for me in Heaven and make sure all goes well down here? When I asked him to pray for me, God reminded me of all the wisdom Bob has given me through the years. I knew I had a heavenly advocate and I could do my best to emulate the qualities I loved best about him.

Chidi, my brother/priest friend, gets the big requests. He was a Nigerian spit-fire for the Lord. He had big ideas, bold prayers and high ideals. I give him what he was good at and I know he's praying for me too.

Now don't go thinking I've gone all crazy here. I pray to God, not my friends. But just like my friends here, sometimes I ask my heavenly friends for a little help too. I ask them to rip the roof off and get me to Jesus. Get it?

One of the greatest gifts of my faith is the multitude of saints I have to look to for help. Their lives give me inspiration, courage, hope, fortitude...you name it. There are patron saints of just about everything. St. Jude, he helps with impossible tasks. St. Raphael is the patron of happy meetings. I talked to him a lot in my single days. St. Anthony, he takes care of lost things and I wear the poor guy out.

The list goes on and on. These saints don't lessen my faith, they make it better. They provide examples...really good ones, to follow. They lend a helping hand and boy, do I need that.

So I will continue to pray to God. I will ask Jesus to bless me. I will request the gifts of the Holy Spirit. I will ask those around me for a little help along the way. And, I will ask those who have gone before me to help me too because goodness knows, I need all the help I can get.

Checking In

2012-01-18T00:03:00.003-05:00

I haven't jumped ship. It's just that we're making a 14 hour drive to Illinois Thursday to celebrate my cousin's wedding. Currently, I'm up with the second kid to get the stomach virus. Kid number three is on the floor of my bedroom looking puny. Suddenly I'm having flashbacks of this disastrous trip.

So pray for me and my family that we get this behind us before 8AM tomorrow.

There's a lot of other stuff going on to but kid number two is currently running to the toilet and I've got to...gag...go with him.

These Are the Best Days of Our Lives...So Far...Hopefully

2012-01-11T23:12:00.000-05:00

Today was one of those days in a long run of days which all ended in my kids driving me nuts. Nelson left town Friday morning and returned Monday night around 8 PM so I'm thinking that had a lot to do with it.

Also, we've somehow suddenly reached the stage when the kids think that irritating their siblings is the best entertainment on the planet. You know, they turn the lights off in the bathroom when someone is in there, they lock the door every time someone goes outside, they steal things from each other, and pinch and poke and prod each other incessantly. Of course all those things set off a whole set of other happenings that involve screaming, running through the house, hitting back and overall madness in general.

As luck would have it, this series of events usually occurs when I'm on the phone with the doctor's office, or cooking dinner, or trying to help someone study.

It's not so much any one event as it is that all of them are happening on a daily basis...oh, about every 5 minutes or so (Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit. It probably only happens every ten minutes.).

This is the part of parenting that parents of older children totally block from their minds when they tell you, "Enjoy these moments, they are the best ones of your life." Either they block it out or they are speaking from the insanity caused by said children over the past twenty-five years or so.

I know this is a season and that things are not as horrid as they seem (at least that's what I tell myself). Sometimes though, I've got to keep it real if for no other reason than preventing myself from becoming one of those parents. I'm going to see those young mothers and say, "Hang in there. These are the hardest days of your life, but one day you'll reap the benefits of all your hard work so keep it up. This too shall pass."

I will. I will tell them that because it's the honest-to-goodness truth. I might even tell them that sometimes...sometimes, you reap the benefits right smack dab in the thick of things. Kind of like I did tonight before I went to bed when I found the following poem written by Mackenzie and left for me to find.

To: Mama

I Don't Know How You Do It

Four kids that drive you CRAZY

I don't know how you do it.

Your love for us is so amazing

I don't know how you do it.

Upside down, puzzled, twisted faces

I don't know how you do it.

Your mercy, love and other graces

I don't know how you do it.

So give three cheers for mom of the year

Who works very hard to keep us here.

I love you dearly, you love me yearly

I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU DO IT!

Love,

Mackenzie

I was nearly moved to tears when I read this. I mean not only is the sentiment so very, very sweet, but the poem is well-written too.

Upon reading this I was suddenly overwhelmed with gratefulness for these creatures I was given the honor of co-creating with God. Of course, I'm always grateful but poetry kind of puts it over the top.

Suddenly I'm thinking that maybe it's not mental illness or early stage Alzheimer’s that those crazy older parents are under the influence of when they say those crazy things. No, it's definitely the moments like these that melt you like snow in Georgia. It's moments like these that you know there is no greater calling on this earth than to raise strong men and women of God. Moments like these let you know that having children is the greatest sacrifice you've ever chosen to take upon yourself.

So have children, as many as God gives you. Sure they're expensive and inconvenient and a tad irritating at times, but the payoff is oh, so much better than any of this. The payoff is beyond words.

All you parents of young, driving you crazy kids remember, these are the best days of our lives. And maybe, if we hang in there and do our hard work now, the days in the future...those days will be even better.

14!!!!

2012-01-09T23:55:00.000-05:00

Today was a big day around here. It was the long-awaited BCS Bowl in which Bama got the chance to prove that they deserve to be called number one. Before Christmas I spotted a houndstooth nail kit that Nelson said I just had to buy.

It was definitely more than my average nail job which is normally nothing because no matter what I do, they look terrible by day two. But the box promised the look would last 10 days and it was the championship and all so I did it. I have to say that I kind of like it. I mean it works with all my Bama stuff. What do you think?

I proudly showed off my nails to the boys in the car yesterday afternoon. They were duly impressed. "Those are so cool Mama!" Max said in genuine awe. "You look just like an elephant."

Not exactly the look or the compliment I was going for, but under the circumstances (and his elephant mascot outfit) I said thank you and moved on.

Among our friends, we Bama fanatics are a minority and as luck would have it, the majority of other fanatics we're surrounded by are LSU fans. Needless to say the last few LSU/Bama match-ups have ended in having our house rolled, beaded and Mardi-Gras'd up. It's not been pretty.

But tonight, oh tonight was our game. It was beautiful for those of us who cheer for the Crimson Tide. And we, well, we did no damage to anyone's yard. We are Bama fans after all (and we do not claim that idiot who killed the Auburn tree).

But I did post the following picture on my Facebook page with the comment, "14...that's all I'm sayin'..."

Roll Tide!!

It's True What They Say About a Man's Stomach

2012-01-08T22:09:00.002-05:00

Tonight as the kids were playing outside, I whipped up some homemade pizza. Since this decision I've tried every pizza dough recipe out there and this summer I finally found the winner. It's easy and everyone loves it.

As the kids trickled in, I was met with, "Mmmm...what's that smell?", "YES pizza!", and, "I love this." I sent them to shower while I put together a salad and used the extra dough to make some really delicious garlic breadsticks.

They came in to plates full of cheesy goodness with a side of veggies and warm bread. We prayed and they dug in. I had to get up to fetch something for someone. Dawson asked me, "You homemade this pizza, right?"

"Yes buddy."

"Did you make this salad too?" he wondered.

"Yes I did," I assured him.

"And the breadsticks too?"

Again I responded, "Yes."

"Guys," he said, "this is SO good. Don't you think? I mean, isn’t homemade so much better than eating out?"

Happy New Year!

2012-01-02T21:20:00.003-05:00

I haven't been posting much because I've been totally immersed in the Christmas season. That's one of the things that's so fun about being Catholic, we still have a little more of this wonderful season to celebrate.

It's been busy, good, fun, memorable, and of course there are lots of pictures to share but for now I'm going to keep it short.

Favorite food of the season: the homemade ravioli of course (yes, I have pictures and no, there are not leftovers)

Favorite moments: listening to Max belt out spontaneous Christmas carols, spending time with my brothers and family, playing with my kids, opening gifts with Nelson on our bed Christmas night and then snuggling together for a movie (I was awake for about 15 minutes of it)

Favorite thing done for me: My husband wrapped every single one of my presents, separately no less, AND put stuff in my stocking. It's only taken 13 years, but I think I finally have the guy trained. You know I love ya hon! And seriously, the gift wrapping and the stocking...better than the gifts.

Favorite gift: Having a healthy father to celebrate with us. God is good.

Oh, there are so many memories, so many gifts. Mostly I feel like the most blessed woman on the earth. I am grateful for everything God has done for me and realize full well that I've done nothing to deserve any of it. That's what makes it so very special. I am amazed by how well God loves me.

I hope in this New Year, you find time to count your blessings. My guess is that you'll get tired of counting before you run out of blessings.

Something Like That

2011-12-26T12:39:00.000-05:00

Last night, after the third Christmas celebration of the day, we were making the twenty minute drive home with one cousin along for the ride and the boys chatting with glee that they were getting to spend the night with their other cousin.

Mackenzie told Dawson, "It's already 9:30. You'll probably be asleep before you even get there."

"Nuh, uh," Dawson insisted.

"You will," she countered.

"I won't! I can stay up til the dawn crack," he shot back, not understanding why everyone was suddenly laughing.

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-25T00:35:00.002-05:00

Every Parris in Parris-ville
Likes Christmas a lot.
And each year it comes quickly,
Whether we’re ready or not.

So in this brief letter we’ll give you the scoop.
We’ll recap the highlights of 2011.
We’ll tell tales of us six. Yes, still six and not seven.

Let’s start with Mackenzie, who’s in sixth grade and middle school.
Having her own locker and changing classes she thinks are quite cool.
She played volleyball and basketball - victorious in just one game.
Thank goodness she handles the academic side with much higher acclaim.
She adores playing with kids. In fact, she’s quite a kid magnet.
She loves art, music and writing, her talents run the gamut.

Aiden’s in third grade and made it to eight.
On January 1st he suffered a terrible fate.
His one leg was impaled, his finger was smashed and his nose got a scar.
I have a feeling that soon I’ll know by first name all the staff in the E.R.
He’s smart as a whip and can throw the football with accuracy and far.
Nelson is dreaming of an Alabama quarterback star.

Next up is our Dawson, the middle of the brethren.
He’s a first grader now and the ripe age of seven.
He’s got front teeth at last, after nearly a year.
He’s a sensitive soul, sharp as a tack, and to me it is clear,
That those qualities work well.
For I’ve noticed he’s garnered the love of every Southern belle.

And of course, there is Max, who is quite nearly four.
He is sweet, he is cute, the babe we clearly adore.
Our baby though he is, he quite often lets me know
That he is NOT a baby, yet, still steals the show.
Each time I see him walk, run and jump…just being a boy,
I’m reminded that he’s a miracle in our midst, the cause of such joy.

In June Nelson and I celebrated being married thirteen years.
Together we’ve experienced many adventures, joys and faced a few fears.
In March his work took us to President’s Club in Vegas.
The sights were amazing. The food was delicious. The rides were high and left me quite breathless.
He’s on parish council and a bank board of directors, but his favorite pastime is coaching the boys.
Football, it seems, is one of life’s greatest joys.

And what happens next?
Well in Parris-ville we say,
That even though we’re all getting older, age is not something we’ll let get in our way.
Since with age comes some wisdom, we see how much God’s blessed us.
We wish you joy in the New Year
And a very Merry Christmas!

Making a List

2011-12-22T18:09:00.002-05:00

Remember when I said this? I'm happy to report that I do and even happier to report I have (basically) stuck to my guns this year.

It started with a discussion Nelson and I had about making a concerted effort to try to take the materialist elements out of our celebration this year. I have always been a bargain shopper consequently; the kids have always had lots of gifts under the tree. Most years, they've had very nice gifts that I got for free or very inexpensively. Regardless of what I paid, what they got was stuff...lots of it.

This year I wanted to avoid the stuff. We don't need more stuff.

A month ago, I remembered something a friend of mine told me she did with her kids for Christmas. It was going to be a startling difference but, I figured we’ve got to start sometime. So around Thanksgiving I told the kids to make their Christmas lists. "You can ask for something you want, something you need, something to wear and something to read," I floated, expecting a barrage of protests.

Instead there was a silence. "So we can only ask for four things?" one child finally noted.

"You can put more than one thing in each column because other people will be getting you gifts, but we are going to stick to four,” I said with feigned resolve. And that was it.

The lists were made with much thought and little greed. I saw these young children really mulling over what qualifies as a need and what qualifies as want. It was beautiful. The lists were simple and easy; therefore, so was shopping.

That’s how it started and we’ll see how it all pans out. Whatever the case, I definitely think we’re headed in the right direction.

Perhaps It Was a Not So Silent Night

2011-12-21T23:17:00.000-05:00

We were watching The Nativity Story tonight. In a scene in which Mary awakens in the middle of the night in her home, someone noted, "It's a good thing that nobody is snoring," because of how many people were piled up close and sleeping.

Aiden quickly observed, "Uh, it's because they're acting."

Sometimes, They Win

2011-12-16T23:11:00.002-05:00

Max, you know, that sweet baby of mine who's nearly four, has totally got my number.

I've never been a fan of kids sleeping in bed with me. I mean, the idea of it is kind of sweet but the reality of it with my kids is more like a kick-boxing match. I get no sweet feelings out of these sessions, but bruises and sleeplessness. Therefore, when each of the kids has come to this stage during which they try to crawl into bed, I nip it in the bud right away.

Except for Max, who I know I mentioned is the baby, he is not quite as restless a sleeper. He sometimes comes into bed and I don't realize he's there until it's time to wake-up. Now this has come and gone in stages like the other kids. I've carried him back upstairs. Now, I send him back up there on his own. Nelson and I agreed, if he comes down in the middle of the night, it's back upstairs, but if he times it so he's there right before the alarm goes off, he gets to stay.

But every once in awhile, I'm too tired to fight the fight and I let him climb in. This, in a large part, has to do with the way in which he approaches the situation. He doesn't just push me over or say, "I want to sleep with you." No, he's much smoother than that.

Sometime right before dawn he comes down and I feel a little tap and open my eyes to a pair of baby blues looking right at me. "May I please snuggle with you?" he asks in a sweet, soft tone. Then I, in a total puddle of sleepy mush, say, "Sure."

Last night we made a very big deal about today being his Christmas party and the fact that Nelson and I were going to join him for lunch. So this morning he was up much earlier than normal. I awoke to the stare of eyes at the level of my own. "Can I snuggle with you?" In he climbed.

We settled in and I closed my eyes. But there in the dark I felt his little eyes staring at me so I gave in and oepned mine back up. He was bright-eyed and staring. The minute he saw me awake, he asked, "Is today my Christmas party?"

"Yes buddy," I whispered, "so get some rest."

He clapped his little hands and almost shouted, "Yeah!" He was so cute, my giggle woke Nelson up. By the time he asked me what was so funny, Max was out of there and up, no snuggling required.

Better Late Than Never

2011-12-12T12:45:00.003-05:00

Last year we arranged a family photo for my parents' Christmas gift. These days, having us all in the same town happens less and less and we needed to commemorate the occasion. That, and well, the last time we had a photo taken together Dawson and Max hadn't been born and Brian wasn't married.

Now any of you who have ever tried to orchestrate something like this knows how much a project like this involves. What colors should we wear? Where should we take it? Who will we hire? Needless to say, there was a lot of back and forth between me and my brothers. And, finally we all agreed on an outdoor location, some shade of blue and a personal friend of my brother’s, who happens to be a professional photographer.

Unfortunately, the day we arranged to take our photo, it was snowing. I know, crazy right? I mean, we live in Augusta, GA, it almost never snows. We thought for half a second about doing it out in the snow but it wasn't that beautiful, fluffy stuff. It was cold, wet, grey...and freezing. So there we were, the night before the big photo with no idea where we'd take it. In swoops divine intervention and I threw in, "Hey what about Enterprise Mill?" We all agreed and called the photographer.

My family is pretty cheesy so it’s not too difficult to get a good photo. I think he took pictures for maybe 15 or 20 minutes and we were out of there. At that point, as is the case with many things I do with my brothers, the ball was in my court. It was my job to take the digital photo and turn it into the wall portrait my parents needed. Except the company I always work with doesn’t do the size we wanted. I called a few other places, school started back and well, I kind of forgot about it.

I don’t know why, but sometimes I let things like this really slide (exhibit A, just had Max get his three-year-old wall portrait ….three months before he turns four). Yes, sometimes, I do not have it all together. So when Thanksgiving rolled around…and several family members ribbed me about getting it done before it turns into this year’s photo, I started the research again. I don’t know why but it’s not a piece of cake to find an online place for large photos that aren’t posters. And the crazy thing is that they want you to believe that the posters are so what you really want. I know because I talked to all of them.

When I finally found one that was reasonably priced I bit the bullet and uploaded the picture to their site. Of course, that involved downloading a new program, viewer and several other technical steps that I can do but always make me a little nervous. Once I waded through the process of simply looking at the photo on their site, I was given a plethora of styles, papers and editing decisions to make. When I finally clicked the purchase button, I felt freedom.

Here was something I let hang over me for nearly a year. It was definitely more involved than I had planned but not a year’s worth of involvement and I knew it. When it arrived the day after Thanksgiving, I called my mom immediately. It was beautiful and I wanted her to see it right away.

As I reviewed these pictures, I remembered how amazing they turned out. When I opened the final portrait, I saw something much more beautiful than the photo. I saw my family. For all our shortcomings, we clean up pretty nicely and when it comes right down to it, we have a fierce love for each other. We thought that was worthy of capturing in time. And now I know it was worthy of a little extra work.

Kind of like family isn't it.

Yes, Jesus Loves Me

2011-12-07T23:50:00.000-05:00

Dawson is going to be the ring-bearer in a wedding in January and the bride asked that he wear a black suit or tuxedo. Being the practical-minded, provident and resourceful gal I am, I just didn't see the point in buying a suit the kid is only going to wear once.

I put out a feeler on Facebook expecting to be overwhelmed with offers to borrow a boy's black suit for the weekend. Instead, I got one measly reply for a dark grey suit. Although it was a very cute suit, it was going to be very obviously not black in the pictures. I declined.

Next I searced the internet and found a place that offered a new tuxedo for $40. That price was definitely better than the rental fee and I figured I could lone it out and make another mother very happy. For some reason I didn't buy it right then.

Today, the day after my internet find, I found myself in a children's consignment store searching for a dress for Mackenzie for Christmas (I told you about the whole provident and resourceful thing). I picked through the rack and found one I thought might work. I was walking to the check-out counter when I passed the boy's section.

I glanced over at the rack and it was as if a light came down from heaven and shown on one suit hanging by itself smack dab in the middle of the rack. It was so unusual I almost didn't want to look...but I did. There in my hands was a good as new black tuxedo in the exact size I needed and...wait for it...the price tag shouted out $14.95!

I held that suit and said outloud, "Oh my gosh, this is a miracle!" I know I said it outloud because an elderly shopper stopped and acknowledged, "Isn't it great when God does that for you?" I told her my story and assured her I had and would continue to thank God for the gift of this suit.

Now if I was not a praying woman, that whole seried of incidents would have just been a happy coincidence, hardly acknowledged or shared with anyone. However, because I do believe in God and the power of prayer, what happened to me today is a miracle that I've shared with whoever would listen.

Today was not about me being good, or faithful, or even prayerful. Today was about God's love for me. I didn't need that to happen. I could have bought the other tuxedo and been just fine. But God had something better than I imagined. He had a gift for me that I could never deserve. It wasn't earth shattering in its significance and yet, to me it was.

God loves me so much that he parts the racks of the boys' clothes and shines the light on the suit I wasn't expecting to find. He loves me so much that it was just the right size and at a price that was unbelievalbe. That's how much He loves me.

And you know what? He loves you that much too.

A Season's Change

2011-12-06T20:24:00.002-05:00

I'm shooting for a different kind of Christmas season this year. I'm making a conscious effort not to over-commit or volunteer for more than I can peacefully do. It's not that I'm not doing anything (seriously, that would be crazy), I'm just doing a little less. More than that, it's the way I'm doing things that's going to be the difference.

I refuse to let myself get frantic. What needs to get done will get done and what doesn't...well, that's ok. This season is going to be more about time spent than things accomplished. I'm letting go of the stuff.

I tried my theory out today. This morning I had to make a grocery list that included the ingredients for the homemade ravioli I'll be making Sunday to put in the freezer for Christmas. Max and I made a major shopping excursion to Sam's and then got home and had to find places for all of those giant containers of food. As I put the last thing away, I made ready to load back up to make the Wal-Mart run. Then Max interrupted, "I'm kind of hungry. Can you please get me some lunch? And then can you play a game with me?"

This is the kind of request I usually put to the side without any thought. I needed to get things done and only had about an hour and a half before heading off to tutor. But today, I made a decision for peace. I have to go to Wal-Mart tomorrow while Max is in school anyway. Why not?

I actually sat down at the table with Max and ate lunch, a luxury I rarely allow myself. After we finished, Max and I played a game of Memory. We ended and cleaned up just in time to get to the school.

It was fun. I was peaceful. I like that. Oh yes, there will be more moments like this.

Just for Kicks

2011-12-03T23:21:00.003-05:00

I laughed until tears rolled down my face with this one. Of course, that may have a lot to do with the fact that I'm working on very little sleep and am a bit slap happy right now.

I hope you enjoy this. Happy second week of Advent!

I Love You for Who You Are, but Sometimes the Things You Say Sure Do Help

2011-11-30T23:25:00.000-05:00

Mackenzie did a service project with her youth group after school today. When she got home I asked her how it went and what she did.

"Well, we were split into four groups and went to different houses to clean," she included in her summary.

"That's a nice service," I noted. "Whose house did you clean?"

She fired off the list which included the house of a woman who just had surgery, one who just lost her mother and two young mothers. Then I teasingly interjected, "Hey, how come you didn't come and clean our house?"

"Mom," she said as only a middle-schooler can, "what would we possibly do here? There is nothing to clean at all."

Mission Accomplished

2011-11-28T23:57:00.002-05:00

Look closely in this picture. Do you see it? All we did was plug it in and there is was - the glow. Isn't it pretty?

Today was one of those weird Georgia weather kind of days. I took Max for a run in the morning in shorts. The skies were threatening rain and the wind was blowing but it was a warm 70 degrees.
By noon it was raining and the temperatures were dropping fast. Forty degrees later, we had the perfect tree decorating kind of night.

We put the Christmas channel on the TV, made some hot chocolate and popped some cookies in the oven.

As we all opened our individual boxes of ornaments and began the decision-making process of which one looks best where, Nelson turned to me and said, "Do you think anyone else has a tree like this?"
What he meant is that our tree is a visual history of our family. Each Epiphany I give everyone a new ornament. More times that not, the ornament represents a significant moment of the year. Nelson has a handy man I gave him when we started building the house. Mackenzie has a ballerina for the year she took her first dance lessons. Aiden has a basketball for the year he got his first basketball goal. Dawson has a gigantic three-dimensional star he made last year in Kindergarten. And, Max, well his story has just begun so his current favorite is the Superman ornament he got last year.

So really it's not the glow of the lights that calls to me. It's us. Staring at the tree reminds me of the places we've visited, the hobbies we love, and the effort that goes into each handmade (regardless of their enormous size) ornament.
It's a picture of our loves, talents, and silliness. The love I have for this beautiful, silly, talented family of mine explains the love I have for the tree that symbolizes it all. And that, lights on or off, is what makes that tree glow.

The Beauty of Advent

2011-11-27T23:21:00.000-05:00

We've made a family tradition out of trying to get the house decorated for Christmas at the beginning of Advent. I love this season and shooting for the start of Advent means we get to enjoy the soft glow of the tree lights for the entire season.

Friday I had a few precious hours to start pulling the decorations out of the attic to begin the process. I managed to get most of them down the stairs by the time I had to leave for the next event. Unfortunately, I was mid-project...meaning the house looked like it had imploded.

It went from the spic and span after Thanksgiving house, to a veritable maze of boxes, lights, and garlands. Needles were strewn from one end of the house to the other. Bubble wrap littered the dinning room. Piles of boxes were stacked in the family room and kitchen (dude, I have a ton of Christmas decor and I love every stinking bit of it).

When we got back home from the events of the night, I plopped down on the couch to relax and I just couldn't. I'm crazy like that about messes. It totally messes with my mo-jo. But as I was feeling a bit depressed about the current disaster, I heard God speak to me.

He reminded me that life is a bit like my house. Sometimes, in order to achieve beauty, you have to make a mess.

I thought about this as I headed off to the quiet (and clean) sanctuary of my bedroom. It didn't take long for me to get God's message. Relationships with people are messy. When you hurt someone and need to ask forgiveness, it's because you've managed to make a mess of things. Even worse is when someone hurts you and you have to tell them in order to move on. Messy. Sometimes life gets busy and stuff piles up because you can't find the time to deal with it. Yep, messy.

When you finally find the time, courage, and/or strength to deal with your stuff, beauty ensues. When you forgive someone, the dirt is wiped away. When you ask for forgiveness, the light finds a way out. When you deal with your stuff, you get a clean slate. Light, new beginnings and clean slates are all beautiful things. It is often these things of beauty that we appreciate so much more because we know first hand the mess from which they originated.

So tomorrow I will haul the last of the empty boxes back to the attic. I will sweep up the glitter and vacuum the needles. And I will sit on my couch and bask in the glow of my tree. I will drink in the beauty that surrounds me and thank God for it.

May your Advent be filled with beauty, and may you not have to make too many messes to achieve it.

My Alma Mater

2011-11-26T23:02:00.001-05:00

We spent a large part of this weekend at a homecoming/fundraising event for my high school, which just happens to be the school where I taught for seven years as well as the one my kids attend today. It's a very large part of what makes my life so wonderful.

Friday night was filled with alumni basketball games and lots of memories shared in the stands. Saturday there were meals for all of the former athletes and a championship basketball game. The winning team, by the way, was coached by the most talented coach I've ever run across...my dad. Good job dad! It was so very fun to see you in action again.

My graduating class of oh so long ago was made up of a whopping 13 students. Needless to say, we were pretty tight and, for the most part, still are to this day. When I entered this school in the ninth grade I had a senior girl as my big sister. Her job was to make me feel welcome and teach me the ropes. She saved me many times as I got used to an entirely different school system. We laughed a lot this weekend remembering those days.

At our luncheon the guest speaker was another dear friend who is now an assistant principal at a local high school. She spent most of her talk thanking teachers and coaches who not only did their jobs well, but changed her life. "Amy," she said in the middle of it, "be sure to thank your dad for me. Thank him for my college basketball scholarship. Coach Killips taught me the one-handed jump shot and I'll be eternally grateful to him. Please make sure you tell him that Amy."

Here's an aside: My dad is a rock star basketball coach. He is at his best when he's teaching kids to shoot hoops. I recognized that when I was a kid and totally appreciate that now.

My school...our school is a hidden treasure. At one point, eight of the last ten valedictorians at Augusta State University, were Alleluia Community School alumni. Our graduates are surgeons, lawyers, educators, business owners, public servants, published writers, priests and religious to name a few. We have high academic standards, high test scores, and a high graduation rate.

The intellectual aspects are top-notch indeed but that's not what I love most about our school. Someone asked me recently why I send my kids there and I told them that even if the academics lacked a degree of excellence, I could fill in the gaps at home. What is irreplaceable is the fact that if the school was burning to the ground and my child was the only student left inside, any one of those teachers would run through the flames to save him or her. Of that, I have no doubt. Those teachers are some of the most intelligent, self-sacrificing, creative, devoted people I have ever met. They love our students almost as much as their parents do.

Thanksgiving weekend, it seemed more than appropriate to spend time celebrating and supporting a place that has made such an impact on so many lives. I am thankful, so thankful, that my parents made the decision to send me there. I am grateful to have had the opportunity to pay it forward by teaching there. And, I am so appreciative that I can send my own children there to experience what I did.

I know that I have many, many blessings to count, but this weekend I spent some time focusing on one of my favorites and it was very, very fun.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-24T08:54:00.002-05:00

Today we are spending time with family counting our many, many blessings. We are grateful, so very grateful and realize that every good thing we have comes from God. We are thankful for the sacrifices of the men and women who made this country a reality and we pray that none of us forget why it was founded in the first place.

We are being grateful, but we are also having (albeit a tiny bit irreverent) fun. Simple, easy entertainment. Hope you enjoy.

http://sendables.jibjab.com/view/0l1qPrfZrPYWMzOr

Crafting Away

2011-11-21T23:45:00.002-05:00

I did a little crafting over the weekend. I see things in magazines and online all the time and think, "Hey, I could do that." Only problem is I almost never do.

I have loved arts and crafts ever since I can remember. In fact, most of the things I still love doing today have some element of creativity to them. As I've gotten older, it's been harder to allow myself the time to be creative. I've also become a bit more practical and look at cute things and think, "Yes, I could do that...but what would I do with that?"

Well last week I found out I had to contribute a few things to the school's Christmas Festival, so in a way, I was forced to craft. Right, twist my arm.

Here's the project. I picked up some canvases, chalkboard paint, puff paint and felt from Wal-Mart. Then I primed the canvases with some primer we had.

Next, I rolled on some chalkboard paint. Okay, we rolled on some chalkboard paint.

Max was more than thrilled to lend a helping hand with the paint and I'm happy to report that it all stayed on the canvas.

If you don't count drying time, so far time invested is 20 minutes.

The next step was adding the puff paint border. After all, what chalkboard doesn't need a little bling? I also cut out the felt pennants and sewed them onto some glittery rope.

I simply tacked the pennants to the back, wrote a Christmas message on the front and tied it up with some twine. And...tah dah - cute Christmas chalkboards!

I love this craft because I can really see someone being able to use this as a cute chalkboard in the kitchen for the grocery list, near the phone for messages, or by the desk for homework.

And to think I still have almost a whole can of chalkboard paint left. The wheels are turning.

Making Room at the Table

2011-11-17T23:33:00.003-05:00

Since Nelson and I have been married, we've invited various people to eat dinner with us on a regular basis. For whatever reason, they've all been single men. I laugh to think about all the years I begged God for a sister, wondering why, oh why, I only got brothers. Now I’m beginning to think God was just preparing me for this.

We're on single guys numbers 4 and 5. The first three stopped eating with us after they got married and had families of their own. In the last two months, numbers 4 and 5 have jumped on the bandwagon and gotten themselves engaged.

As a matter of fact, the second of our current guys got engaged the night we threw that giant couples shower for the first one. When Nelson and I climbed into bed that night I had that excited, happy and sad all at the same time emotion and told him I felt as if we were losing our boys.

In case I've never mentioned this, I come from a long line of Italian matriarchs who were happiest when they were feeding people. Consequently, this desire of mine to feed people runs through my veins. When you eat at my house once or twice, you're a guest. After that, well, you're family.

All of our guys hold a special place in our hearts and are still dear friends today. But the current two have been with us longer than any of the others and have become part Parris.

We've watched them date other women and given a bit of guidance here and there. Flannel shirt for Christmas? Definitely not. Writing a song for her on your second date? Also, not a good idea. Flowers? Okay, now you're getting it. The guys have actually tailed the first one dating just to find out who the secret girl was...I know, so bad, but like I said - brothers. We were in on the proposal plans and got to see both rings before their brides-to-be. I even got to try one on!

Lately the table has expanded to include the fiancés when they're available. We've had after dinner dance lessons to get them ready for that oh so intimidating first dance at the reception. We think they've both done a stellar job choosing a mate.

Last night as I was cleaning up the kitchen and Nelson was tucking in the kids, the two of them bellied up to the bar, grabbed a drink and started delving into the some of the deep waters of the Catholic faith. Two hours later, the four of us were laughing together and teasing each other just like siblings.

I looked around that table and realized that I love those guys. We didn't necessarily choose them; they kind of happened into our lives and never left. It's not always easy to have extra people for dinner. Life gets hectic and putting on a nice meal in the middle of the week is not always seamless. It's an investment and investments cost. However, they also...almost always, have a big payoff.

Come January and June we'll get to witness a big payoff. We'll get to participate in the biggest moment of their lives and that will be very sweet indeed. We'll be both excited and a little sad that our lives will change.

We'll also be looking for God to send us some replacement diners.

Running the Hood

2011-11-15T00:09:00.002-05:00

Hit off on the alarm this morning at 5:30 a.m. Some days, I just don't have it in me...especially the days when I know I can squeeze in a run at some other time.

I hit the road with Max in the stroller much in the morning and the weather, although gorgeous, strangely resembled spring more than fall.

I've given up thinking of these outing as runs and refer to them as a cross-training day. Pushing those jogging strollers with a not-so-little tike is not-so-easy.

On mile one we passed a sweet lady who lives somewhere in our neighborhood. I'm guessing this because I run into her a lot on my runs but I've never actually seen her go into her home. We chatted briefly. Today we acknowledged the beautiful weather.

Mile two I ran past another more familiar neighbor stretching on her lawn, babies asleep in her stroller. She had just finished. We talked about running with babies, getting back to running after having babies and decided we should try to run together sometime.

Mile three we ran past several friends in their yards and cars and simply smiled and waved.

Mile three and a half brought us past my dad's office. I was trying to run without Max seeing it and asking for the candy my dad always has for him. We were easily distracted by the woman coming out of the office who commented that she needed a ride in the stroller. Max told me, after she was gone thank God, that she was WAY too big for the stroller. In the meantime, dad spotted us and brought candy to Max curbside.

Long about mile four I was thinking that even though I despise running in our neighborhood (it is HILLY and I'm not crazy about people seeing how slow I am...stroller or not), I love it too.

Who else can run for four miles and claim that they personally know almost every person they pass as well as who lives in every house along the way? I can. I've said many times that I have the best friends in the world, but I've not often mentioned that I live in the best neighborhood in the world too.

Why it's the best neighborhood takes more explaining than I have time for right now, so you're going to have to trust me on this one. Or...you could come visit and let me show you. I'd love to show you.

Seriously, I have a guestroom.

Funny What I Take For Granted

2011-11-10T22:45:00.002-05:00

Things were clipping along at their usual pace this morning. Kids were quizzed during breakfast, hair was combed, teeth brushed and prayers said. Off they went.

Round two began with me getting a jump start on dinner prep and then getting Max ready to go to his Catechesis class. We jumped in the car to go and it wouldn’t start. I tried again with no luck. Suddenly the morning changed.

First order of business was to get Max to his class without being terribly late. No problem, I thought. It was raining so we couldn’t walk, but I know several people around whose kids go to the same class so I got on the phone. The first three calls yielded nothing helpful. I saw my neighbor across the street pulling out and ran to catch her except it was her high school daughter, who was most definitely not on her way to Catechesis. I finally caught her next door neighbor, who agreed to not only take Max to Catechesis, but also drop me off at my prayer group.

Crisis averted...for the moment.

One of the moms at my prayer group picked up Max and gave us both a ride home. I called my dad (which is the person I still call first whenever I need anything). He came over right away, used his jumper cables and had the car up and running without any problems...except that I didn't need to go anywhere.

Ten minutes before three I loaded Max up to pick up the kids from school. The only problem was that the car wasn't going anywhere. One more call to a friend enabled my kids to have a ride home. Then I made another call to my dad. What do I do now?

Did I mention Nelson was out of town? I say this lest you think he's neglected me.

We tried to jump the car again to no avail. Driving it to the shop was not an option and it was too late for a tow.

No worries. I'll just call for the tow in the morning. Except that in the morning the kids have to get to school. I have to be with them because they fully expect me to be there for the Veteran's Day program. Max has to get to school across town in the middle of that program and I'll have to get back to the shop and get my car before I have to tutor and pick the kids up.

Funny how a normal day can get complicated so quickly. A day like today makes me exceptionally grateful that I live in a place where I know my neighbors well enough to ask them for help. It makes me grateful that I have a dad who seems always to be at my beck and call when I'm in need. It also makes me grateful we have AAA.

I'm also very aware of how one little thing going wrong can change your whole day... your whole outlook. It's amazing what I take for granted.

I Love My Husband!

2011-11-08T23:11:00.005-05:00

I had a great weekend. It was busy. It was overwhelming. It was wonderful. As I sat in our beautiful church Sunday morning waiting for mass to start, I could not muster a petition. All I could do was to thank God over and over for the amazing life He planned for me.

I could spend time talking about all the little details of the weekend like how I was literally running around the house Friday night right up until the first guests arrived; or how the shower was a fantastic success that was shared with at least 60 other people who came; or how my son baffled me with his spectacular pass completions in his game on Saturday; or how we had another 15 people here for the big football game Saturday night; or how I let Mackenzie play with my hair for an hour Sunday afternoon just because she wanted to. I could go into details about all those things, but the reality is that none of those things were responsible for the uncontrollable smile on my face all day Sunday.

No, my smile came from a much deeper place, an all-consuming place. It came from the unfathomable love I have for my husband. I have never doubted this love, but lately its power has overwhelmed me and I’m loving it.

In the weeks leading up to the shower, we decided to take on some major house projects we had shoved to the back burner. We decided on them together and we worked on them together. We have fun working together. Shared goals make that easy.

The day of the shower I felt we were at our absolute best. We were seamless. Like when I actually said the words, “I don’t have time to feed the kids,” he totally got it. He said nothing and the kids got Krystal’s for dinner. I love that man.

We love parties - both attending and hosting. He tended the bar. I met the guests and grabbed the gifts and coats. Between the two of us we managed to give tours of our home, keep the food and drinks refilled and mingle around the party with an occasional high five in the hallway as we passed each other.

When it was over, I found myself feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. I am certain that I must have been the envy of every person at that party. Sure I have a beautiful home and people noticed. And yes, the food was a hit and people commented. But what really sets me apart is that I have a marriage that is strong.

Sunday, while the kids were in Sunday school, we skipped our adult class and went to a local coffee shop. As we sat across the table I knew that I had fallen in love all over again. During our little summit we discussed our little family, our goals, our schedules, and our life.

It was the best hour of my week so far and let me tell you it will take a lot to top it. You see, if given the choice between spending time with anyone else and my husband, I will choose my husband every time. I love that about us. I love us. We’re good together.

My goal is not to gloat or make you jealous, but rather to challenge you. If you’re married, you shouldn’t be jealous of my marriage, you should be proud of your own. What I hope is that you feel the same love in your heart for your spouse that I do for mine. Wouldn’t it be great if every married person was this in love with his or her spouse? Wouldn’t the whole world look like a different place?

Bottom line is that I think my husband is the greatest earthly thing that’s ever happened to me. Because of him I have a beautiful family. Because of him, I have confidence. Because of him, I feel loved. I love him for all of these things but mostly I love him for being the man God created him to be and sharing his life with me and I want the world to know it.

You hear that world? I love my husband! Take that.

Things Change

2011-11-07T21:55:00.002-05:00

I'm finding these days that I have a lot of big and meaningful posts in my head that never quite make it to the blog. Unfortunately, the moments those thoughts hit are not the moments I have the time to stop and write them down.

It's kind of like the shower we hosted this weekend. It was beautiful. The turnout was tremendous. The only thing I had out on the counter was my camera so that I could take a photo of the beautiful table and the guests of honor. It didn't happen because I was too busy enjoying the party.

And, why I don't want to miss recording these precious memories, I don't want to miss making them.

Hopefully, someday soon, I'll find the balance.

I'm thinking it may have something to do with not much down time around here these days. No more having all the kids napping at once. No more 7:30 bedtimes. No more quietly watching the afterschool comings and goings of neighbors. I'm too busy coming and going myself.

It's a different season for sure...one that merits many posts all on its own...once I figure out how to eek out some time to write it all down.

The Kid's Got His Place in this Family and He Knows How to Use It

2011-11-02T23:04:00.003-04:00

We have a few food rules around here. The first of which is that the kids have to try everything...every time we serve it. The second is that if you don't eat dinner, you don't get anything to eat after dinner. Easy.

Tonight, for whatever reason, Max decided he didn't want dinner. It wasn't that he didn't like it; he just didn't feel like eating it. I had made some cupcakes earlier in the day so I tried to bribe him by telling him he could have a cupcake if he finished, but he responded, "I don't want a cupcake. I'm full."

As the kids filed into the kitchen to trade their empty plates for a cupcake, Max looked a little jealous. He stood and watched the boys devour their cupcakes as I washed the dishes.

I felt a tug on my leg and looked down to see Max's baby blues the size of saucers (think Puss 'N Boots from Shrek...seriously). "Mama?" he asked in the sweetest tone he could muster. "May I please have a cupcake," and then there was the pause for dramatic effect, "because you love me so much?"

Tonight, that kid got his cupcake.

Happy All Saints Day!

2011-11-01T21:35:00.002-04:00

Every year we attend the neighborhood All Saints Day party, I find myself secretly wishing we could just go trick-or-treating. It's not because the party isn't fun; it's just that you can't exactly find a saint costume on the rack at Wal-Mart and I don't sew.

However, watching the kids pour over the saint books discussing who they want to be and why makes me think that this is exactly what the All Saints Day party is about. It makes me happy to have discussions about the lives (and deaths) of these holy people. It's what passing the faith down to the next generation is all about. These costumes make an impression on them that lasts a lifetime.

This year the choices were (l to r): Aiden as John the Baptist (when I texted my friend to ask her about a costume I thought I remembered one of her boys wearing, she sent me back this idea and everyone loved it. It also won us second place! Many thanks Rach.), Mackenzie went as Kateri Tekakwitha for the third of fourth time (I was proud she still wanted to dress up), Max as "the Pope" (aka John Paul the Great), and Dawson as Jesus (who I'm also proud to say won FIRST place! Amazing what a little red and brown paint in the right places will do. I must say I think he impressed everyone with his willingness to be so scantily clad on a rather chilly night).

Crazy Day

2011-10-29T22:28:00.002-04:00

I fell asleep watching a movie with Nelson last night...at 8:45 PM. Let me tell you why.

It was Thursday.

Get ready. Here goes:

*Up at 5:30 to run at 6.

*Back by 7 to help Nelson deliver breakfast in bed to our birthday boy, Dawson.

*Get kids off to school and go to get in the shower when Nelson reminds me the bug guy is coming so I put off the shower.

*Need to start dinner for another family but needed their crock-pot to do it. Couldn't get it because I was waiting for the bug guy. Started their dinner in my crock-pot, will have to wait on my own dinner.

*Bug guy arrives 30 minutes late and I have to unlock all the doors and follow him around.

*Realize Max needs to be at Catechesis in 10 minutes so shower has to wait. Decide instead to throw on some deodorant, clean clothes and rush him out the door.

*Hit my prayer group because I figured with the day ahead, I was going to need some prayer.

*Picked up Max and then picked up his play buddy for the day.

*Ran to school to pick up Dawson and take him and the two three-year-olds to lunch at Checkers.

*Got ready to order and Max had to pee. Had to walk through the parking lot to use the bathroom at Auto Zone with three vivacious boys. Nice.

*Ordered the food and tried to keep all boys from running in front of traffic. Then had to fend off a stranger who tried to take them into the driveway to feed the birds. Scary.

*Got Dawson back to school and finally made it to my friend's to grab the crock-pot.

*Took the two boys back to my house. They played dress up and I finally jumped in the shower, which on most days by this time I figure what's the use, but today was also the day we were having the family photo made for the parish directory. Definitely do not want the greasy, dirty hair look put down in history.

*Out of the shower with dripping hair and decide to use the two hours I had left to make cookies for the shower next week.

*Between trying to double a recipe that was entirely too big for my mixer and supervising two little boys, only got about 2 dozen done before it was time to run carpool.

*Got the three big kids home and let them snack on the one batch of cookies I forgot were in the oven while quizzing them on spelling and getting back to rolling and sprinkling cookies.

*In the middle of greasy hands and cookie crumbs everywhere, got a phone call from mom telling me she was bringing by some dear friends who dropped in from out of town for the day. Is now a good time?

*Yikes! Blitzed the house with the kids and had it picked up in about 20 minutes right as they pulled up. Toured the entire house and visited with the friend while trying to act as if I had nothing else to do.

*Finished with that tour about 10 minutes before my dad dropped by with the friend's husband and he too wanted the tour. Visited again and had to toss one more batch of cookies I forgot about again.

*Suddenly realized I had about 30 minutes to get kids in and showered for pictures and finish the meal for my neighbors so I said goodbye to the guests and finally threw in the towel about getting cookies finished today.

*Put on some rice, green beans and got rolls ready as I supervised all 4 taking showers and in between all that I ran up to get their clothes for the pictures.

*Nelson came in the door and noticed I was not ready for the photos. Do you want me to cancel? Seriously? No way, I told him. Do not want to try to do this again. Give me 10 minutes and please take dinner down the street to friends.

*Did my hair, make-up and got dressed in 10 minutes as well as doing Mackenzie's hair and taming the boys' hair and brushing their teeth.

*Bolted to the car and got to the church at the precise time of our appointment only to search all over for the location of the photographer.

*Got pictures taken and were done with the sales pitch in 30 min.

*Let Dawson choose where we picked up dinner as mine never made it into the crock-pot.

*Nelson went to pick up food while I went home with the kids. I wrapped gifts while the kids packed their lunches.

*Picked out movie we promised Dawson he could watch while he ate his dinner. Then let him open his gifts as Max passed out on my lap.

*Got kids to bed and cleaned up mess in kitchen and family room and wondered how in the world my day got so crazy.

*Should have felt like Supermom at the end of this day but definitely did not. Felt more like an exhausted, over-committed crazy woman in desperate need of some sleep. Actually left Dawson’s gifts scattered across family room and hit the sack.

And Friday, well it was kind of the same but I will not write about that so you don’t feel compelled to tell me that I should be committed. I blitzed through it at about the same pace as I did Thursday which explains why at 8:30, when I threw in the towel and decided to put my feet up and hang out with my husband, I promptly fell asleep.

Oops!

2011-10-29T22:19:00.002-04:00

I don't know what happened or what made me remember, but I was remiss to mention Mackenzie's birthday this year. So...I went back and did it. And so you don't miss out on my one and only girl, you can read about her here.

Dawson's Day

2011-10-27T22:04:00.004-04:00

Dawson,

This morning before the sun or you had risen, I prayed for you. I do this every day but today I asked for a special blessing for you on your very special day. However, before I could say many prayers, I found myself awash with gratitude for you.

I thanked God for sending you to us. You have been a sweet boy from the moment of your birth. There is tenderness in your heart that is completely enduring. It is a tenderness that I hope you keep your whole life.

Your teacher honored you today for your thoughtfulness and I think she was absolutely right. You are generous and kind and I think both those qualities stem from your thoughtfulness.

I love you so much buddy and have loved the last seven years with you. I think the next seven will be even better.

Happy Birthday!

Mama

Read It, Believe It

2011-10-25T22:26:00.002-04:00

I was at a retreat a few weeks ago that focused on beauty, namely how beauty comes from within - from God. It was an inspiring, and genuine retreat. The women who gave the talks did a fantastic job and the ones who shared really bared their souls.

As I walked outside, I found myself almost feeling guilty for being happy and really relishing the beauty God has put within me. I have had some trials in my life but they don't compare with the suffering some of these other women have experienced. I felt that the absence of such pain made me somewhat less significant.

And yet, I couldn't wipe the silly grin off my face. I am in a good place and the talks over the weekend encouraged and inspired me. In short, I was feeling God's love and it brought forth an uninhibited joy that I could not deny. As the smile spontaneously spread across my face, I felt that gentle nudge from God. "It's okay," I heard Him say, "to be happy."

For the next thirty minutes or so, God and I had a running conversation about having confidence in Him and the gifts He's given me. Again I was encouraged and called on to use those gifts to bring Him glory.

When I came back inside, one of the women got up and read the following quote from the movie Akeelah and the Bee. It was exactly what I had heard God say to me in my prayer time. I left that retreat on a high and have been there ever since.

Dear readers, I want you to experience this feeling I'm feeling. Read the quote. Copy and paste it somewhere you can read it often. Then read it every day until you start to believe it. Once you believe it, live it. Then you too will feel the joy.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

How Is It...

2011-10-24T21:42:00.002-04:00

that I can feel so incredibly accomplished knowing that today I did every single load of laundry in the house (I mean it's washed, dried, folded and put away. I also did all the ironing AND mending) and yet feel like I achieved nothing?

At the very moment I was feeling oh, so proud of this great achievement, I saw the dirty clothes on the floor in the space where I put back the hamper. I saw the empty grocery list and menu plan for tomorrow's shopping trip. I also glanced at the major "shower to do list" that only has three jobs checked off. Now I sit here wondering what else I could do to cross something...anything at all off of those lists.

Right now I’m thinking of adding sleep to the list so I can go to bed and cross something off at the same time.

Peace and Water

2011-10-22T19:01:00.004-04:00

Today we celebrated Dawson's birthday a little early by taking him and all his buddies to Steed's Dairy Farm. We gathered at 9:30 AM after getting up early to make the requested banana pudding and blitz the house (why I feel the need to do this before it’s hit by a group of young boys is beyond me, but clean I did). We stayed at the farm until 2 at which point we came back home and had the pudding and opened presents. That was followed by a backyard soccer game, seeing off the boys and then cleaning the house again.

Needless to say, after whipping up some grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, I was pooped. As I ushered the boys into our shower, I spotted the computer on my bedroom floor. Once the water was going, I plopped myself down in front of it and, well...kind of stayed there.

I only felt slightly guilty about taking 10 minutes of quiet for myself. A good soaking, I told myself, is precisely what they need after today's activities. They were washing quietly and playing some game that required making very odd sounds with their mouths (sometimes, it's best not to know exactly what is going on). Everyone was happy.

In the process of typing this I've heard the following:

Boy 1: "Hey, what do I look like?"
Boy 2: "Uh, a naked guy walking around."

Boy 1: As the water was turned off, says, "Look at our faces. Dude, we need to rinse them off."
Boy 2: "Are they really dirty?"

Boy 3 walks in and Boy 1 says to Boy 2, "Do you think we need to wash him?" To which Boy 3 says, "Ah, yes."

Boy 2: "Look at that mess you just made. You better get that cleaned up before mom gets in here."

I think it's the longest shower in history...the water is still going and now they're singing Firework. But I'm still not feeling bad. No, I'm thanking God for the tankless water heater and pledging to take a really quick shower later.

Boy 2 interrupts me typing the final paragraph to ask me, “Do we really need to wash Max? We’re like done and out of the shower now.” And why I’d love to believe that simply standing in the water long enough will do the trick, I must end my moment of peace and do my job because the sooner I do, the sooner they can all pass out and I can have some real peace and quiet. That, and Boy 2 just informed me that Max likes it in there by himself.

Sometimes, No Words Are Needed

2011-10-20T21:55:00.001-04:00

Doing the Gigantic

2011-10-20T00:07:00.002-04:00

Today was one of those days when I had the rare thought, "I am Superwoman." You know, one of those days when you just seem to be able to get the million things done that were on your short list and a few on the long one as well.

Here's the day in a nutshell. With Nelson’s help, I got everyone everything they needed this morning to make it to school and had a little time left over to spend with him before he left for work. I gathered all that I needed for my errands and ran Max to school. From there I popped into my dad's office to cut the shower invitations I drew and Nelson printed...all 100 of them (and yes, it's at my house). From there, I ran to Wal-Mart to get ingredients to make the requested banana pudding for Dawson's birthday party Saturday along with some household needs to spruce a few things up for that shower. When I got back home, I unloaded everything and got a jump on dinner preparation before picking Max up. I also got the scoop on my duties as fundraiser for the 5K run at the kids' school, and made four phone calls. By then, it was time to pick up the other kids, get them snacks, help them study and referee their disagreements all while preparing a dinner that was much more effort than I remembered. In the middle of all that I found out that one son forgot the book he needed to study for his test and Mackenzie got invited to an impromptu birthday party that we had to find a gift for and then wrap it. I fed 11 people dinner and addressed all those invitations. We had a major discussion/furniture moving session with dinner guests about what to do with our cavernous family room. And finally, I got kids to bed and did the after dinner clean-up.

Somewhere in the middle of all that I had the rational thought that it is simply amazing what we moms do in a day without really "accomplishing" much at all. Besides food on the table and invitations ready to be delivered, I have nothing much to show for all the frenzy.

Nelson walked in at precisely the moment I discovered that the dining room table that the boys had set, was not up to par. The room itself also looked slightly like a tornado hit it while the table was being set. He generously came in the door, saw my face, pitched in and poured me some wine.

When I finally took a breath and thanked him, I asked him how his day was. "Well...kind of good," he noted tentatively.

"What does that mean?"

"Well I had a busy day where I did a lot but didn't really get anything accomplished."

Although I didn't feel that way tonight, I totally related to him because that is the way I feel most days. I mean, can you count something as an accomplishment if you need to do it again as soon as you finish (laundry and cleaning toilets in a house full of little boys, for example)? Yes, this is how I feel most days.

Today however I still had this quote at the forefront of my mind. It was also on my mind yesterday as Max and I spent some time pulling weeds and he asked me why we need to get rid of the weeds and I gave him this wonderful analogy about how weeds can choke the plants causing them to die kind of like the devil tries to do to us (of course I was much more poetic). It was just a few minutes but I felt it. I seized my opportunity to teach Max about the mysteries of the universe and it felt very important and worthwhile and it was all while we were knee deep in dirt.

A day like today is exhausting. It can make me feel at once a superhero and an insignificant speck. However, when my perspective is on the mark, I can see that I am at work building my family, my friendships and my life.

Today, in the million little things, I did the gigantic and world is a better place because of it.

A Short View from a Short Season

2011-10-17T21:23:00.004-04:00

I mentioned briefly that we entered the world of school team sports this year. Mackenzie played on her middle school's volleyball team and loved it; even though she had never touched a volleyball before the first day of school at the team's first practice. Needless to say, the team's record was a little less than stellar.

They did win one match and that was totally exciting. It's funny how much you appreciate the little things when the big ones don't come easy. Every point earned was a victory for us.

I'm glad she did for all the reasons team sports are good for kids. It was a great chance for her to spend time with the other girls in her class (almost every single girl was on the team...small classes at our school). It was also fun for me to chat with the other moms in the stands. Of course the boys thought it was wonderful to attend the matches. Snacks, running up and down bleachers, playing in the courtyard of the school, and even cheering on their sister turned out to be super cool to them.

Having worked with these girls for the last several years, I couldn't get over how much older they looked the first time I saw them on the court in their uniforms. I also found myself exceptionally grateful that our conservative school frowns on the "spankies" worn by the other teams. If you're not familiar with this type of uniform, imagine the girls playing on the court in their underwear and you've got the picture.

I'm so proud of my anti-competitive (no idea where she gets that trait) girl participated. She gave it her all and improved a lot over her short season. I can't wait to see what she does next year!

On Motherhood

2011-10-14T22:53:00.000-04:00

G.K. Chesterton said: " I can understand how this might exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No; a woman's function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute..."

Amazing encouragement isn't it!

Soup's On!

2011-10-13T21:07:00.004-04:00

I tried this for the first time tonight. It was easy, make ahead, cheap, delicious and every single person finished their bowls. In short, it was a total win! And, just because I love you, dearest readers, I'm going to share the recipe with you. Try it and let me know what you think.

Classic Minestrone (Serves 6)
This recipe is from the October issue of all*you magazine

2 carrots, diced
2 ribs celery, sliced
1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 cups chicken broth
1 28-oz. can crushed tomatoes with liquid
Salt and Pepper
1 tsp. Italian seasoning
1 cup small shell pasta or macaroni
1 cup shredded escarole or kale
1 15-oz. can cannellini or navy beans, drained
Grated Parmesan, for serving

1. Combine carrots, celery, onion and garlic in slow cooker. Pour in broth and stir in tomatoes, 1/2 tsp. salt, 1/4 tsp. pepper and Italian seasoning. Cover and cook on low for 4 to 6 hours.

2. Thirty minutes before serving, stir in pasta, escarole and beans. Cover, increase heat to high and cook until pasta is tender, about 30 min. Season with salt and pepper. Serve hot, sprinkled with Parmesan, if desired.

Note: I added some cooked Italian sausage because if there's no meat in the dinner, Nelson is totally all "Where's the beef?" I also doubled it and it totally filled my giant crock-pot but now I have a meal for another night. Sweet!

Dad E. Parris

2011-10-12T15:53:00.001-04:00

Max to me: Is Daddy's first name Dad?

Making Connections...In a Three-Year-Old Kind of Way

2011-10-11T09:08:00.003-04:00

"Mama, where were you last night with Miss Nicole?" Max asked me this morning.

"I was helping her register at Bed, Bath and Beyond," I informed him.

"Was Buzz Lightyear there?"

Curious as to the connection here, I ventured, "Why would you think Buzz would be there?"

"Well you know," he said with amazing authority,” he’s the one who says that...'and beyond!'"

Favorite Maxisms This Week

2011-10-06T21:12:00.002-04:00

We've been playing quite a few card games this week. This morning Max asked me, "Mama, will you play Homemade (Old Maid) with me?"

We were spiking the boys’ hair for a mini-golf outing today...because it was easier than trying to tame it. Max, upon seeing himself in the mirror, said, "Look Mama, Daddy gave me a homawk."

Now This is Vacation

2011-10-03T22:35:00.002-04:00

I am currently in Hilton Head Island for the week. We got here Saturday afternoon and have enjoyed every single minute.

Oh to get here was tough. I don't know how you homeschooling moms do it! I actually thought one of my kids may end up in the ER instead of the beach. Oh my gosh, I thought I was going to inflict some serious physical harm. Thankfully, those were brief thoughts that floated through as I reminded myself that the kid had just come home from a full day of school, grabbed a snack and started right back at it. Torture for us all.

Happily, we adjusted and did the bulk of the work before we arrived. We brought a few things to do here and have been chipping away at it and we've almost finished it. I'm enjoying this now because I think we're in the last few years of all being able to pull the kids out of school for an entire week. High school doesn't lend itself to week-long hiatuses.

We arrived here with no stops along the way. We have played cards, Bingo and other games. We have played rounds and rounds of ping-pong poolside. We have gone on bike-rides and runs. We've hunted alligators and fed turtles. We have had root beer floats in the middle of the afternoon and eaten cookies and ice cream for dessert (thus the runs and bike rides). We have put on PJs at 7 and watched movies until 10.

We have not hurried to do anything. We have not made one single solid plan. We have not yelled. We have not gone in a million directions. We have not rushed through meals.

Needless to say, I've enjoyed every waking moment...mostly because those moments come much later in the day than normal. I may blog some and I may not. I will relax, read, and have a few drinks poolside. I will recharge. I will enjoy my family. I will rest.

Thank God for the beach, time off and generous parents with a beach condo.

Another Hairy Situation

2011-09-30T15:36:00.002-04:00

Dawson awoke this morning with hair even more smashed and spiked than usual. "Come here and let me comb your hair," I commanded as a normal part of the morning routine.

"Why do you have to comb my hair every day?" he wanted to know.

"Dawson, do you want to go to school and have all of your friends see you like this?"

"Y-E-S!" he said with way more enthusiasm than I dreamed.

Waiting for Inspiration

2011-09-29T22:27:00.003-04:00

I am procrastinating. I am weird about this. In general I am a fairly organized list maker and task accomplisher. There are a few things however, when it comes to doing, in which I am a procrastinator extraordinaire. Ironing...need I say more?

In this case I am avoiding writing a talk Nelson and I are supposed to be giving tomorrow night at and Engaged Encounter weekend at our church. Why can't I make myself do this?

Here are a few reasons: 1) Nelson and I are supposed to give the talk together. How do you do that? Nelson's solution went something like, "Hey, have you written our talk yet?" 2) The topic is 'problem solving'. Can you get any more generic? 3) We are not to talk about finances, sex or anything else covered in the other talks. Are there problems about anything else in a marriage?

I am a teacher and I love it. I am a well-seasoned public speaker and enjoy that as well. I am a practiced writer and love putting my thoughts on paper. So what's up?

I've been mulling this over for a few weeks now but honestly, I am totally uninspired as to how to fill up and hour and keep the attention of a bunch of young folks on a Friday night who are dying to be anywhere but where we will be.

I'm sure it will come to me. It always does. I just wish in this case it would come a little quicker. I don't do last minute very well.

Finished

2011-09-27T23:09:00.004-04:00

So I did it. I finished. I have more to say but first I have to get over how sore my legs are. I love this photo Nelson got of me. This was around mile 8, the first time I saw my family. Dawson had just run out to slap me five. I look happy and fast.

Today This Is My Name....

2011-09-25T07:38:00.000-04:00

with a "WO" right in the middle of it!

The (Purpose of the) Big Race

2011-09-22T22:33:00.003-04:00

The big race is Sunday. I did mention I'm on a relay team for the Half Ironman right? The race is a totally crazy amount of moving - 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride and then a little 13.1 mile run. All I'm doing is the run. I've done that before. In fact this will be my fifth half and the third in a year's time. Who would have ever thought?

Well, I say I've done this run before, but perhaps a more accurate statement is I've run this distance before. I've never run as a part of a team. I've never run in an event this big (over 3,000 registered participants...the largest Half Ironman in the world). I've never, ever started a run this long in the middle of the day (swimmer goes off at 9:08 which will probably mean I'll start running around 1 PM).

I've been doing my usual amount of nervous worrying this week. Nervous about my start time, not to mention it's the latest start time so I'm also kind of worried I might be last. I'm worried about what to eat and when. I usually do long runs before the sun is up and fuel on a banana before and some gels along the way. Don't think that will work this time. I’m scared knowing that the day of the race will be precisely the day that my painful varicose veins will be at their absolute worst. So much to worry about, so little time.

I was thinking about this while I was praying tonight, asking the Lord to help me get some perspective. He reminded me of this little lesson. Sunday, He let me know, should be looked at as an opportunity to let my light shine. There are so many ways to do this in a race. I can encourage any runners I pass (still dreaming). I can thank the volunteers at the aid stations and the crowds cheering us on. I can stay at the finish line to cheer on the one or two who come in behind me (yes, hoping too). I can be positive and encouraging to the people waiting to run like me.

Yes, I can do all of these things...as long as I keep a positive outlook and a smile on my face. If I forget about times, and the people passing me by, I have the opportunity to make a difference in that race. With this knowledge in hand, I felt a joy overcome me. I agreed with God on this one. I can let go of all this worrying and remember why I'm running in the first place.

Um...why am I running in the first place? Oh yeah, to stay fit, keep my sanity, and maybe even have a little fun. "Run with me," I heard God tell me. "We'll have a good race. Besides," He reminded me, "I'm a lot faster than you." Don't ya just love His sense of humor? But dude, He is totally right. If I can keep pace with God, I'll do just fine.

To make things even better, I got a very clear sense that I needed to offer this race up for my dad. I haven't talked about him much here since his surgery, but it has not been easy going. Even though his heart is doing fine, one of the medications he was on caused the tissue around his lungs to swell and he's currently working with only 54% of his lung capacity. Not good.

Suffering, when done in the right way, can be used as a prayer. I've done this one other significant time in my life and it was for my mom, who was diagnosed with a rare and serious kidney disease when I was pregnant with Aiden. I'm a legend in the hospital for my fast and furious labors. I had a feeling that Aiden's birth would be no different than Mackenzie's during which no doctor was present, nor was the anesthesiologist ever called. I figured if I was going to have to suffer the pains of natural child-birth for the second time, the least I could do was to offer it up for my mom's healing.

As I was panting my way through my final contractions I remember clutching her shirt and pulling her down to my ear and telling her, rather sternly, "You better get healed!" Well I'll be if God didn't heal her. I'm not claiming that I performed a miracle or was even the cause of this, but I think you see my point.

So Dad, Sunday's race is for you and your complete healing. Every time I choose not to complain, I will pray for you. Every time I feel like I'm out of breath, I will pray for you. Every time I feel pain, I will pray for you. And Dad, I'm going to tell you exactly what I told Mom, "You better get healed! You hear me?"

In the span of an hour or so of prayer this evening, God gave me a whole new perspective on Sunday's race. I now have a purpose and a mission and by golly, it's going to be a good race after all.

Thinking of the Beach

2011-09-21T22:08:00.003-04:00

As usual, this comes a little late. It's been so long since I've done one of these I had forgotten how much time they take to put together (probably the reason I haven't done one in awhile). But then, when I see the finished product, I always wish I would do it more often.

In another week and a half we're going back to the same beach with my folks (I might have those pictures uploaded after Christmas ;)). I can't wait. There's something about vacation that is so freeing. Everything slows down and you get the chance to just enjoy each other.

*A note about the first song on this video. For many years I considered myself a hater of country music (I still don't really enjoy the stuff with a real twang in it). However in the past several years, I have crossed over. I think what I love most about the country genre is the story telling that happens in the songs...that and you can actually understand all of the words. That being said, listen to the words of the first song. You'll see exactly what I mean and precisely why I chose the song.

I hope you find some time in your busy week to enjoy the ones you love the most.

Make a video - it's fun, easy and free!
www.onetruemedia.com

Just Thinking

2011-09-20T20:49:00.002-04:00

Every time I think I have it hard or that I'm really busy, I seem to run into someone who totally tops me.

For instance I have a good friend who, because of financial necessity, is going back to school...full time...with four young kids, while she still attends every sporting event, drama rehearsal, not to mention having to hitch rides everywhere because, yes, they only have one car. I think she's absolutely amazing.

I have another friend with more kids than me who is going through a divorce, having to sell the house they renovated together and now will also be going back to school because she is the sole wage-earner for her large brood. I have the greatest respect for her ability to rise like the Phoenix from the ashes. She will be stronger.

I think of another sweet friend of mine every time I start feeling bad for Max about his little weaknesses. She almost lost her first child before he was even born. He has Cerebral Palsy and requires daily therapy and numerous doctors and surgeries over the years. She not only cares for him with the grace and patience of a saint, she does it with a beauty that is beyond compare. And to top it off, she has had two more children since him. She is a genuine hero.

Most of the time I look at women like these with admiration and gratitude. I am grateful for their examples as well as the fact that I don't have their crosses to carry. Other times, I look at them and wonder what in the world I’m doing. What kind of impact am I making, oh me with a Master's Degree who is a stay-at-home mom?

There in lies the rub. Inspiration or reevaluation? Or maybe...both.

Melt My Heart

2011-09-19T22:26:00.002-04:00

I came into the kitchen this morning and Max said, "Good morning beautiful."

I met with the teacher I shared the fourth grade with last year today. She's teaching them again full time in the fifth grade and was looking for some help. When my former students returned from P.E., they were excited and asked, "When are you going to come and teach us art? You were like, totally awesome."

After reading a lengthy story to Dawson and Max tonight, Dawson snuggled up and said, "Thank you for reading that story."

Doesn't take much.

Friday Fast Before I Try to Get to Bed Earlier Than Midnight

2011-09-16T21:42:00.002-04:00

1. Left the house at 8:15 this morning and returned an hour ago. I do not know how moms work full time. Seriously...how?

2. Taught art to the third grade which was totally fun. Have I ever mentioned how much I love teaching? Well, I do. Seems it doesn't really matter what the subject is either. What you may not know is that I love art...the arts...all of them. I wanted to be a musician, artist, actress, writer when I grew up. Teaching seemed to be the practical way to do them all. Dude, in an elementary class, when you're teaching art, you are a rock star!

3. Volunteered for several hours at a children's consignment sale today. I never cease to be amazed at the amount of stuff people get for their kids nor how much they spend to get it. Granted, a consignment sale offers many bargains too good to be passed up, but seriously, some people need to do just that.

4. Ran into an old running buddy at the sale and hugged her so tightly. She was the one who ran back to find me and run me in on my first ever 10 mile run...the one that ended in tears. She is a hero to me and always will be. She's now expecting baby number two and was positively glowing. I hugged her again before she left. So glad she shopped today.

5. Today the temperatures never rose past 68 and it was gorgeous. Grey skies, crisp air, and even a few reddening leaves. Boy, oh boy do I love fall. I'm praying like crazy that this is exactly the weather we have next Sunday when I run in the Half Ironman, since I think I'll be starting my run sometime after noon. Wouldn't that be amazing?

6. We watched Mackenzie play in her third volleyball game this afternoon. It's kind of painful to watch them at this stage. All I can say is thank God for rally scoring, and hopefully, they'll be better next year.

7. We have a busy weekend on the books and as fun and good as everything that we have going on is, after a busy week, a busy weekend is not the best medicine. And next Saturday Mackenzie is going to take a babysitter's course. Did I just say that? Is it really possible that my baby might soon be watching other people's babies? Gulp.

Next weekend is also the Half Ironman...double gulp. I think I'd be ok about this race if I didn't have real teammates connected to my running times. You know what though; they can't say I didn't warn them. And, who knows, maybe I'll have the race of my life. Probably not, but maybe. (I'm trying the whole positive thinking thing before the race this go around.)

How the Ball Starts Rolling

2011-09-15T23:16:00.003-04:00

I've spent several hours over the last few days preparing to teach third grade art tomorrow. This, of all the things I'm doing now, is the only one I actually volunteered for. It was one of my favorite things about teaching last year so I figured once a month in one of my own children's classes would be a great opportunity to stay connected.

Want to hear something funny? The more art projects I consider, the more I'm thinking that once a month is just not enough time for all the fun things I have in mind. Then my mind jumped to how I could reproduce some of the lessons and give them to the other teachers to use. Suddenly I envisioned myself heading up elementary art. See where this is heading?

As much as I say I'd be happy sitting around doing nothing for a very long time, my mind and heart won't let me do that. I'm crazy, I know, but I come by it very naturally and have had plenty examples of good servants in my life. Seems it's just who I am.

Don't worry though, in my old age I've learned (at least partially) that there is a limit to what I can actually do with four kids and a husband in my care. I didn't volunteer for heading up elementary art....yet.

And So It Begins...Again

2011-09-13T21:40:00.003-04:00

A very large part of my life has revolved around sports. My dad was the athletic director at the University of Alabama in Huntsville and also coached their women's basketball team. We spent hours shivering under blankets watching soccer games, months sitting in the bleachers at basketball games and many exciting times watching knock-down, drag-out fights…I mean hockey.

When we moved to Augusta, Dad took a teaching and coaching job at a Catholic high school. Even though the school was thirty minutes from our house, I spent a lot of time in that gym as well.

In the midst of all of this my brothers entered the world of sports themselves and yes, we went to their games too. Once I got into high school, I joined the crowd. If my family does one thing great, it is that we are there for each other. Whether it was an under 8 soccer game or the league championship varsity basketball game, someone was there to watch us. No matter the distance, frequency, timing or sacrifices involved, someone from the family was in the stands.

When my dad started coaching my brothers, I sat on the bench with him to keep stats (which actually meant trying to keep my dad from getting kicked out of the game - college coach in high school leagues doesn't always work well). Even when my baby brother, Kevin played in high school after I had Mackenzie, I dragged her along with me to all of his games.

When he graduated, I took a long-needed break from the sports' world. I went to some homecoming games here and there but for the most part I was happy not to have my time revolve around the game schedules.

I have been rather happily sitting at home watching my neighbors pile into school buses and leave town for games. As my own kids have grown up, we've ventured into backyard soccer, elementary league basketball and Y flag football. All have been positive and fun experiences. The games happen once a week and practice is as often. All of it happens in the comfort of our neighborhood. All of them have had seasons no longer than a month or two.

That is, until now. Now we have a daughter in middle school and she's playing volleyball on the school's team. They practice almost daily at school and have games about twice a week. Friday was the first game and when I walked into that gym all I could think was, "And so it begins again." Suddenly I saw the next 15 or 16 years of my life: hours on the phone figuring out schedules, carpools, and game times; dinners thrown together quickly or eaten in the gym; homework completed in the wee hours after all day games; miles and miles in the car traveling to the games; kids on three different teams all with games on the same day. This is not divination, it's a fact. I know it because I've lived it all of my life.

What I also know are all the benefits gained from playing team sports. I know how much it means to know your parents were there to see your game winning shot as well as the missed goal that let the victory slip out of your hands. You love knowing they're there, even when you think you're too cool to tell them that.

And you know what, when you're in it for the long haul you don't think about all the time you spend on it. Actually, it’s really fun. I love cheering for my kids. I'm kind of loud and don't care.

So yes, I'll be at all those games (and I’m guessing my mom and dad will be there too) because, well, that's how I roll.

So Many Clothes, So Little Time

2011-09-12T13:33:00.000-04:00

Another One Bites the Dust

2011-09-11T14:59:00.000-04:00

It's a tradition around our house to go on a media fast of sorts during the month of September.

On the way to school today Max asked, "Mama, can you please play that song...you know, da da dunt dunt dunt, another one bites the dust?"

"Sorry buddy but we're not listening to that today."

"Why?"

"It's September. Remember?"

"But why can't we listen to it in September?"

"We're trying to focus more on Jesus," I explained.

"But Mama, Jesus sings Another One Bites the Dust," he said with a great deal of confidence.

I began to laugh. Can't you just see Him at the Judgment Day with a line of souls in front of him? "Sorry dude. You didn't make it in." Cue music, "Another one bites the dust."

Jumping Into Cooler Waters

2011-09-08T21:34:00.002-04:00

Oh the adjustment back to schedules...is killing us. Gone are the lazy days (come to think of it, did I have any of those?) and relaxed evenings. In is the 3 to 8 PM mad rush of homework, chores, lunch packing, dinner cooking, cleaning, showers, games, practices and a whole lot of voice raising on my end. The kids don't do so well with "hurry up".

On top of all that I currently have three boys who are taking turns getting up in the middle of the night. Last night when the second one came down at 3 AM, I told Nelson it’s like having a newborn with all the sleep interruptions we're experiencing. I don't know where it came from. My kids have always been great sleepers but suddenly one doesn't like his room, one is having nightmares and another just prefers my bed. We're working to nip this in the bud but it's wearing me out. I need sleep.

I'm telling myself that all of this is due to re-entry. Kind of like when you jump in the pool without testing the waters and it takes your breath away. Eventually you catch your breath, your body adjusts and you realize it's actually a very comfortable temperature for swimming. You get used to it and move on.

That's what I'm telling myself, while I'm breathless and shivering from the cold.

Survival Humor

2011-09-07T21:47:00.003-04:00

I forgot that the adjustment of going back to school includes all of us...even when not all of us are in school. Let me just say that doing homework with three kids at once only adds to the craziness around here. I'm wondering at what point in their lives I get to just watch them do it and offer a, "I'll be praying for you." Somehow I think that's a very long way down the road.

So I don't get depressed about how long that road is going to be, I'll leave you with the following:

Disclaimer: There is absolutely no reason that I'm posting this other than I came across it and it made me laugh...just in case any of you get any crazy ideas.

Differing Opinions

2011-09-06T10:40:00.003-04:00

This morning we took the kids to school. It was a quiet walk back to the car with just Max and me.

"What are we going to do today Mama?"

"Well we're going to do some laundry and then we're meeting some friends for lunch."

"McDonalds?" he asked excitedly.

"No buddy we're going to Vera Cruz."

"Why?"

"That's the restaurant they chose."

"Well," he said with such earnestness, "do they know that I like McDonalds?"

Change of Plans

2011-09-05T22:13:00.002-04:00

All the lunches are packed and the bags are bursting at the seams with labeled supplies. The kids have been sleeping soundly for hours now and for some reason my stomach is still turning.

This was supposed to be my year “off”. I turned down numerous teaching offers in order to spend more time with my little guy while he's still at home as well as to try a big project I've had on the back-burner for three years now. I thought this moment would find me elated and feeling free.

Except I now am the mother of a middle-schooler and I'm not quite sure what to expect. I also agreed to teach art to the third grade once a month. Once a month should be a piece of cake. It will be fun and it will get me in the classroom of the kid who spent last year complaining that I NEVER go on any field trips with him.

But then my wonderful husband got himself out of a seriously big commitment by suggesting that I would be perfect for the position (you know I love ya babe!). Ooh...I don't know about that I said to his, "Doll, you're going to be great at this!” The next day I got another call wanting me to sign on to an ever bigger project.

Now I have some big decisions to make because, believe it or not, I'm not going to say yes to everyone (at least not intentionally). There will be prayer involved and hopefully God will show me what's right.

The only sense I've gotten so far is that God has no intention of giving me the year off. Well, it was a nice thought, even briefly.

Max and His Moves

2011-09-01T23:33:00.000-04:00

There’s been a lot going on this week, not the least of which was that I've been without a computer since Saturday. I hate it when I go so long without writing. No chance to record. No opportunity to process. And there's also that whole issue of having to catch up (mostly for that awesome birthday girl).

Since I'm up too late already (but hey, the ironing is finished!), I'll leave you with the following videos. My dad made Mackenzie some new CDs for her birthday and yesterday I caught Max working on his moves.

At first we were all just enjoying the show but once he moved on to the second song, we also realized he's got rhythm. Where he learned the moves, I'm not sure (ok, So You Think You Can Dance probably contributed).

Since he's started back to "school" we've been working on walking up the two flights of stairs to his classroom. He's great with his left leg but that right one still has him struggling. He's slow and it's obvious that he has to work really hard to use that one. It's the one thing he does that reminds me there's something not quite right.

As I watched him dance in this next video, for a split second I was sad when he fell. I actually thought about editing that spill out. Then I listened to the words of the song. "When I am older, I will be stronger." I was reminded how far he has come. I appreciated the fact that a little over a year ago, I never dreamed he'd be able to move like this.

The amazing thing is that he has no idea there's any problem at all. Almost every time I pray over him at night, I add a prayer for Jesus to strengthen or heal his legs. He's so used to prayers that I don't think he always listens. But the other night he asked, "Mama, why did you pray for my legs? They don't hurt."

I love that. So Max, wave your flag buddy. You do it with such style!

Mackenzie is 11!

2011-08-29T22:08:00.000-04:00

Mackenzie,

I am amazed at the young lady you have become right before my very eyes. I saw it begin last year sometime but this year, as you enter middle school, there is no denying that you are no longer our little girl.

You are a magnet for young children. It doesn't matter how long you've know them or even if you do, they love you. You have a gift with them that can come only from God. I'm amazed to watch it in action. I am certain you will be a very busy babysitter.

I pray that you maintain your sweetness as you enter the world of middle school. You have always been a peace-make and a friend to everyone. Continue to do that and you will go very far.

I love you with all my heart and don't know what I'd do without you.

Happy Birthday,

Mama

Minimalist Prayer

2011-08-27T14:20:00.002-04:00

Once a week we have a few people join us for dinner. This week one of them had to eat and run.

"Why are you going?" Dawson asked.

As he was walking out the door the guest explained, "I’m going to the Underway Prayer Meeting."

After the front door closed, Dawson turned with a quizzical look and asked, "They have UNDERWEAR prayer meetings?"

In Short

2011-08-27T14:18:00.003-04:00

Dawson's friend is over today and he asked Dawson if they could play Mario Brothers.
"They're not brothers," Dawson informed him. "They're bros."

To My Mom

2011-08-25T22:15:00.003-04:00

My mom is one of the most caring people I have ever met. As a nurse, she has literally cared for thousands of people, not the least of which is her own family. She has been called at all hours, delivered babies in the backseats of cars, held people's brains in their heads, crawled through a window to get to someone, run down the street to save a baby not breathing and even administered CPR to a preemie kitten (long story).

Even more than our physical well-being, she cares for us. She's listened to us cry, yell and tolerated our silence and now she has to do that all over again with my kids. She gives out more wisdom than most people will ever have. And most importantly, she prays. Always she prays.

Thanks for everything Mom. I love you. Happy Birthday!

Let Me Speak

2011-08-23T21:55:00.002-04:00

I was riding home tonight in a car with my talkative kids. On the way out we had a discussion reminding them about how rude it is to interrupt people. On the way back it happened again...this time to little Max, who can't think fast enough to prevent his older siblings from jumping in before he's finished.

He was in the middle of saying something he thought was very important because when the perpetrator butted in he loudly emphasized, "Hey! You just ripped me up!"

Cleaning Cabinets

2011-08-22T22:46:00.003-04:00

Tonight I was doing the normal kitchen clean-up. It was one of those nights when wiping off one peanut butter smudge on the cabinet snow-balled into wiping down every cabinet in the kitchen.

As I was scrubbing the final one, I was thinking how funny it was that even though I do a pretty thorough cleaning of the kitchen on a nightly basis, the cabinet doors were pretty dirty. Somehow I had not noticed how dirty until I saw that peanut butter today and decided to take a closer look.

I've often thought of myself in the same way. I look great from a distance but when you get up close you tend to see the grays popping out here and there, the massive veins protruding from the backs of my legs, and the lines beginning to engrain themselves around my eyes.

Marriage I've learned is similar. I've told many a young girl that dating and being engaged is like seeing yourself fully dressed in a one-way mirror in the best lighting. You almost always look good. When you get married though, it's a lot more like standing in the buff in front of a three-way mirror in some very unflattering lighting for the first time. Suddenly, you're totally exposed and the view is not always attractive.

My logic is that people who get married are meant to balance each other out. In our marriage, Nelson is strong in many of the areas I am not. This, indeed, is a blessing. It can also be kind of like a slap in the face that teaches me how weak I am and how much I have left to learn. It forces me to see the real me instead of the me I hope everyone else is seeing.

This is not something Nelson does to me. On the contrary it is his goodness that makes me feel the way I do. His strength magnifies my weakness, but it also calls me on. This is part of what makes the early stages of marriage so challenging. When you're forced to see the real you, it's not so easy.

The good part of all this is that when you finally get close enough to see the dirt that's been hiding, you can actually clean it off. It takes a little elbow grease sometimes, but it can be done and what you end up with is cabinets that not only look clean, but actually are clean.

And that, my friends is a result worth working for.

Lemonade Stand

2011-08-20T15:57:00.003-04:00

The boys have been begging for weeks to do a lemonade stand and I've been putting it off thinking I just don't have the time to supervise this activity. But today, after an 11 mile run and then going straight to their un-air-conditioned school to clean out classrooms and move books, I was too tired to say no. All I wanted was a shower and they were knocking down the door so I gave in. “As long as you don't bother me in the shower again, have at it.”

They've been out there about an hour, have made over seven dollars and have only come in to make more lemonade. When Aiden came in I told him maybe he could use that money to take us to dinner tonight. His response was, "Mom! No...we're going to save it up for college or a car or something."

Peace, money and a lesson well learned - pretty good Saturday if you ask me.

Just Another Day at the Zoo

2011-08-16T21:22:00.004-04:00

Today, thanks to the generosity of a good friend, we had a great day at the zoo.

We started in the botanical garden. Remember Edith Anne?

The kids loved the aquarium. I loved the faces. Even the tank cleaner in the back got into the action for this one.

Max didn't really understand the piranhas but he posed just like the one behind him.

The animals were at their best with the cooler weather. The giraffes were some of the most beautiful animals we saw.

The kids were mesmerized by the fact that there were baby giraffes.

The gorilla was my favorite of the day. When we walked in, he was sitting with his back against the glass and, while that was cool, we couldn't really see his face. But within a few minutes, he rolled over on his back. He grabbed a branch, scratched his belly and then nibbled on it. He stretched his feet out, crossed them and propped them on the glass.

We got to walk right next to the kangaroos. There were no walls or cages between us. Of course Max jumped right off the path to go to pet them. Luckily, we caught him before he caught them.

I thought the lion fish kind of reminded me of Dawson's hair as it grows out of the buzz cut.

I think the kids' favorite part was feeding the lorikeets.

Even Max got into the action. The bird landed on his arm and I quickly snapped the photo. Then I asked him if he wanted to get the bird off and he looked at me and said, "Uh...yes!"

They loved the farm too. Max said his favorite part of the zoo was milking the cow. Of course the fact that it was not a real cow combined with the fact that the utter, tilted at just the right angle, could also be used as a squirt gun helped.

We also saw a koala awake for the first time ever.

We appreciated this because every other time we've ever seen them, they've looked a lot like this. Which, I have to say, after our full day I was ready to join him.

A Peaceful Pause

2011-08-15T22:54:00.003-04:00

In confession today the priest gave me some good food for thought. As usual, I was bemoaning my inabilities as a mother. I get too impatient I told Father. I get angry.

Sometimes our lives get very busy, he related. When you find peace, you'll have more patience. Try taking some moments each day just to sit and enjoy the beauty around you. Look at the trees outside. Watch your beautiful children playing.

My first thought was, "Seriously?" How can I take time to sit and soak it in? Do you have any idea what life is like? Then I remembered that he was sharing God's wisdom with me, not his. I felt the peace in his voice and it drew me in. Suddenly, I was putty.

Luckily, these thoughts came and went quickly enough that I was able to refocus and hear the rest of what he had to say. He recommended using my work as my prayer. The more my life becomes a prayer, the more peace I will find. The more peace I have, the more patience I will find. That might even lead to me wanting to pray more.

It all sounded so beautiful and hopeful...just what confession is supposed to do. There is a freedom gained and a joy you find with the anticipation of how good you have the potential to be.

Well, tonight after dinner one of the kids asked, "Can we go out and roll around in the grass before we take our showers?" I was so stunned by the request I was speechless. I haven't been able to pay any of the kids to go outside lately, it has been so unbearably hot. But tonight it was a beautiful 88 degrees so I obliged.

The kids bolted out the door like caged animals that had been set free. And, instead of going back in to get the kitchen in order with a little peace, I went outside with them. I watched and listened as they squealed and played. I showed my flower gardens the love they've been needing. We all stopped to talk to friends walking around the block. It was beautiful.

Showers, prayers and bedtime were a little more peaceful tonight because I was more peaceful. Instead of racing from table to tub, there was a moment of pause and it helped...just like Father said it would.

Good Point Son

2011-08-10T22:13:00.004-04:00

Tonight Aiden was reading his Kids' National Geographic while Dawson and I worked on a puzzle. "Did you know that the President's favorite sport it basketball," he read, "and the First Lady's is volleyball?"

"You don't say," I commented.

"Does that mean Barack Obama's favorite sport is basketball?"

"Yes it does."

"And the First Lady's is volleyball?" he wondered.

"That's what it says."

"Who's the First Lady?"

"That's what they call the President's wife," I educated him. "Mrs. Obama is called the First Lady."

"Hmm...” Dawson noted as he placed a piece in the puzzle, "I thought they were talking about Eve, because she was like the real First Lady."

The Day My Dad's Heart Stopped

2011-08-09T19:20:00.008-04:00

The morning of the surgery my brothers picked me up when it was still dark outside. We rode to the hospital so we could have one more chance to be with dad before his surgery. It took three of us plus a nurse to finally find him.

The six of us huddled in that little niche and watched as each medical person came in to check on dad. We joked about his freshly shaved chest and his third shower in less than 24 hours. Apparently, being clean and sterile is kind of a big deal before surgery.

Before we knew it, it was time to wheel him back to the OR. The staff gave us a minute to snap a photo and give dad a hug before we had to leave. In the photo we look happy, normal almost.

I had been strong, at least I did well pretending to be strong, right up until it was time to kiss my dad goodbye. I still get a lump in my throat thinking about it. I've kissed my dad goodbye a million times in my life but never like this. That morning, in a hospital with all the smells and my hero confined to a hospital bed in a gown, well, I lost it.

It was a moment of emotions much like those I felt way back when Mackenzie was admitted to the hospital for the Rotavirus and most recently when Max was whisked away for his ear surgery. A moment when I was slapped in the face with my insignificance in the universe. A moment when I was faced with the reality that no matter how hard I try, I cannot control everything. A moment when I realized that no matter what I do, I cannot protect the ones I love the most from pain. It is a scary moment when God gives you no other choice than to trust in Him. It is scary and beautiful and it makes me cry every time.

But my dad, who was at that moment was preparing for a heart-stopping event, reached out to comfort me. "I'm going to be alright," he assured me. "I know dad," I sniffed, in spite of myself. And then, he was gone.

We were escorted to the waiting room, where we were told to settle in for the long haul. A nurse was our liaison and would keep us posted she said. It would be four to five hours from the first cut.

We staked our claim in the empty room and my brothers immediately put Women's World Cup soccer on. They should put recliners in these rooms, we collectively thought. The stress of the day combined with little sleep made for pure exhaustion before we even got started.

At last the surgeon came in to speak to us. The care he took in talking to us impressed me. He had just the right amount of seriousness to let us know he knew what he was doing, tempered with a light-heartedness that put us as at ease as we could be. He would have his nurse keep us posted but now, he had to go.

The nurse came in and told us that dad was under now. When she came back she notified us the first cut had been made. Finally, she told us what we didn't really want to hear. His heart had been stopped and he was on the bypass machine. We wouldn't hear anything again until it was over.

This was the point where my mother lost the nursing side of her and was reduced to a scared wife with a husband in danger. It was agony for me to watch the transformation. I've seen her nurse so much and so well, that I let myself forget that she is human. She's had to hospice four, yes four, of her very own siblings. In every case, she has been a pillar of strength. I don't know how she did it. But that day, at that moment, she was just another worried family member hanging on for a word from anyone that everything was going to be okay.

I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and hold her tight as she has done to me so many times over the years. I wanted to give her a kiss, pat her on the back and tell her she'd feel better in the morning. Instead I did what she asked and gathered my brothers together so we could pray the Rosary.

I know people who aren't Catholic often take issue with route prayers like the Rosary but let me explain why I love them. In a moment like this when you can't find enough words to pray the prayers in your heart; when you don't have the strength or endurance to weave a beautiful prayer of your own; when you don't even know what you should be praying, it's really, really nice to have something to fall back on. And that morning, we fell hard.

The rest of our time was spent reading, chatting, praying and watching Modern Family scenes on my brother's computer (a little levity is always nice). I was overwhelmed with texts from friends checking in on my dad and me. The Facebook messages from people praying made me feel so loved. A wonderful friend forced me to let her make dinner for my family that night and my amazing father-in-law stayed the entire day with my kids so I could be with my dad. They say you can see who your true friends are in your times of need and let me tell you, I have a whole lot of wonderful people in my life.

When the nurse came in an hour and a half later we got a little nervous. "I won't be back," she said, "until it's over unless something goes wrong." We all stood up as she walked towards us. "Well," she said with a huge grin on her face, "they're closing him up now. Everything went well and he should be in the SICU within an hour. The surgeon will be in to talk to you soon."

I don't remember jumping up and down, but I remember feeling like doing that. Was that really it? Could it be that the surgery was over and dad's heart was repaired in that short time? When the surgeon came in, he assured us it was. Dad did great, he said. He only needed three bypasses and the minute they connected them and took him off the heart and lung machine, his heart started beating stronger. We would be able to see him in about an hour.

When we gathered outside the SICU, we were instructed that we could all come in to see him but after that we would be limited to two at a time. Mom turned to us and warned us. "Remember," she said returning to the nurse with an iron will, "dad's not going to look like himself. He's on a ventilator and will have a lot of tubes and wires coming out of everywhere."

We stood at the hand washing station quietly. My six foot four brother looked at me and said with a pale face, "I'm not looking forward to this." I smiled what I hoped was a reassuring smile. Truth was, I wasn't too sure I was ready either. I just knew I couldn't not go in. I'd be okay, I reasoned. I know what to expect.

Unfortunately, all the preparation in the world could not have made the moment I saw him any easier.

We let my mom go in first because she is his wife after all. That and the rest of us were too busy holding back tears and too scared to touch him for fear that we might accidently disconnect him from something important.

For me, it was the hardest moment of the day. The man lying on that bed did not look like the dad I hugged goodbye that morning. He looked small. He looked weak. He looked...dead.

I took his hand and told him I was there. I told him he did great. I told him I loved him. Then I took out my camera. I explained to the nurses that I was under strict orders from my dad to take these pictures. I'm not sure they believed me.

I stayed with my dad for those first few hours after surgery. I held his hand and watched as he began to come out of the anesthesia. I watched as he struggled with the tube in his throat. I was there when they gave the okay to take it out and then I got to watch them do it.

Interestingly enough, the TV in his room had a mind of its own and changed channels randomly throughout the day. When my dad came off the ventilator, an old Alabama football game just happened to be on. I'm pretty sure the first thing he said when he could talk was "Roll Tide!" Perfect. In that moment I knew he was going to be just fine.

It was amazing the difference a few short hours made. You can see from this photo that he already looked a lot like himself once that tube came out and he was sitting up. By the time they brought him something to eat, he was aware enough to marvel at the size of his new scar. Of course he looked like himself, but whatever medications he was on made him act...well, not quite himself.

From that point on it was a competition between me and my brothers as to who would have the funniest story about what dad said under the influence. Those stories, because I love you dad, I will not share here. But let me tell you, he was HILARIOUS. I'm pretty sure I could have gotten him to tell me any deep, dark secret he's been hiding but I didn't have the heart. Besides, I didn't need secrets to be entertained. Just hearing what he had to say about things like his lemon Jell-O was all the entertainment I needed.

By the time Nelson made it up and we visited with dad long enough to let mom get a little break, it was after nine. We tried to talk her into going out to get some dinner or home to get some rest but she wouldn't leave the building. He was still critical, she reminded us, and she wasn't going anywhere.

A little less than twenty hours later, he was walking around and transferred to a regular room on the cardiac floor. According to his nurses, he did not look like a man who had just gone through open heart surgery. And, well, they were right.

By the time I brought the kids up to see him the next afternoon, all the tubes and wires, save the IV, had been removed. His color was good and other than a big a big scar on his chest and a cool heart pillow to hug when he coughed, what the kids saw was the Dampa they know and love.

Now, a month later, as I look once again at these pictures I am beginning to see why dad wanted me to take them. Pictures, like history, help us not to forget what we've been through. They remind us how far we've come and sometimes, how far we still have to go.

I felt like it was important to document this event so that I wouldn't forget the miracle of modern medicine or the miracle of my dad's life. There is no logical reason why dad should have been alive with the blockages he had in his heart. It doesn't really make sense that they can stop his heart, sew in some new veins and get it beating again...better than it was before. I don't want to forget any of that.

God had a plan for dad. So in His wisdom, He gave my dad a wild hair to do the Half Ironman with me. That decision to be fit literally saved his life. The road to recovery is long and requires hard work but the doctor is convinced that next year, not only will dad want to swim the Half Ironman, he’ll be able to do it better than before.

You hear that, Ironman with a stronger heart? Next year that race is ours!

The Night Before Dad's Surgery...A Little More Than A Month Later

2011-08-08T23:05:00.005-04:00

My dad gave me permission to share the photos of his surgery. He said I didn't need to ask, but when you see them, you'll understand why I did. Even though he asked me to take pictures of him at every stage, he didn't see himself.

The day before the surgery I knew that mom and dad would be tied up in pre-op all day. I also knew all three of my brothers would be in town, which doesn't happen very often. I decided we needed to have a family dinner.
I had a nice steak dinner in mind. You know, roasted asparagus, twice baked potatoes - the works. I wanted to do it up big. That's what I wanted. But when I asked my dad what he wanted? He wanted burgers, plain and simple.

That is my dad. He loves simple. He yearns for casual. So we fired up the grill and put the burgers on. But before we did that, mom and dad called me and my brothers into the dining room because they needed to talk to us. As we gathered together, time seemed to stand still for a moment. There was seriousness in the air that none of us missed.

It was there, standing over the dining room table, that my dad laid it out. Wills had been done, medical powers of attorney given out. He made it clear that mom had the medical power of attorney and that if anything happened, she was to make the decision. Period. The decision is hers and hers alone he told us. She knows what I want.

Mom took over and told us how the next day would go. She told us the risks. She warned us of how we would see him when it was over. "He's going to have tubes coming out of everywhere," she gently explained. "He'll be on a ventilator, have a tube in his neck, two in his chest...you need to be prepared."

I'm not sure if it was the will, or the power of attorney, or the image of dad that got to us but as I looked to my brothers for some strength, they, like me, had tears in their eyes. It was not a good discussion to have the day before your dad's heart is going to be stopped. Next time we do this, I asked my folks if they might get these things together before the life threatening surgery is looming. Just sayin'.

With that heavy conversation out of the way, we broke out the beer, wine and even some daiquiris. The men and kids headed out to the grill, while I did some last minute chopping.

Dinner was good and the conversation was light. I'll hand that to my family. When the going gets tough, we have a tendency to laugh. Humor we do very well.

Like all good Catholic families, we invited our parish priest to join us for dinner. We wanted his company, but we needed his prayers. So before he left, we asked him to pray for dad. He happily obliged...on his knees no less. It was moving, scary and comforting all at the same time. I don't know what people do without faith.

As dad was saying his goodbyes and telling us how early he had to get up and that he still had to shower with his special soap, I eyed the camera in front of me. I wanted to ask him if we could take a picture together but I was torn. On the one hand, I didn't want him to think that I thought he was going to die. That wouldn't exactly be encouraging. On the other hand, what if he did? I would never forgive myself. Funny how a particular situation can make the simplest request so complicated. So I asked him because, well, better safe than sorry.

Once Nelson snapped the photo, my brother asked if he could have one too. In a skinny second we were all there with my dad...just as we should have been...just like he has been for us all of our lives.

Of course, I needed one of him with the kids as well.

One of the greatest things about having kids is their unadulterated faith. There was no heaviness in them. There was no fear. There was only faith. They had prayed so they believed my dad would be fine. That's all they needed. That's all any of us should need.

Of course, they have learned their senses of humor from the rest of us. And I have to say, it was a great way to end the night.

Master Bath Upgrade

2011-08-05T22:54:00.006-04:00

Waiting on my new running watch to charge up, I came across a bunch of pictures I've never shared. Remember when I talked about how the decorating bug had bit me? What follows is just a small example. I hope more will follow.

These are not pictures of that little laundry room curtain, but they'll have to do for tonight. This is a picture of the master bathroom. When I'm asked about my favorite parts of the house, I always put my bathroom at the top of the list. It turned out just like I pictured when we designed it. It has a spa-like quality that I love. I love it, but it needed something.

In shopping for my curtains, I happened upon some things that gave me a few ideas about how to make the space a little more inviting and warm. I started searching for some vases. I was shocked at how expensive they are. Vases, $75, really? I had almost given up (because I'm too cheap to spend that kind of money on a simple decoration) when I found these for a fraction of the price. I love them.

We searched for three years for just the right furniture piece for this little space and for Christmas we found this little gem. However, once I got it in there, it too needed something.

Enter vase number two. It just happens to go with the first one but is different enough to do the trick. The height of the flowers seems to work.

There is one more change I made that I'll post when I snap a photo of it. What I'm amazed by is how inexpensive it was and what an impact it has.

Fine By Me

2011-08-04T15:03:00.002-04:00

We were having a musical discussion in the car today. Most of the singers we discussed are dead and so the conversation turned toward how exactly they had died.

"A lot of singers are dead because they were shot," Aiden casually noted. "People just don't like them or something and they shoot them. That's why I'm not going to be a singer when I grow up. I just want to die of old age."

A Good Runner

2011-08-03T22:54:00.002-04:00

Running lately has been tough. Unfortunately, this is beginning to feel like the story of my running life. I keep waiting for it to get easy, or feel good, or at least lose a few pounds but it does none of these for me.

Yesterday I trudged in after a very rough six-miler as Nelson was getting in the truck to head to work. "How was the run?" he cheerfully asked as he always does.

"Really not good," I panted. "It's all I can do not to cry right now. I'm ready to give it up."

"Hon," he tried to encourage me, "it's really hot. Don't give up."

Truth is I know it's really hot. The temperatures around here have been over 100 with heat indexes that add about 10 more degrees. Y’all, it's hot down here and it's no joke. When I come in from a run, I can literally wring out everything I wore.

This kind of heat combined with our sticky humidity is doing a number on me and making my already slow times even slower; which, quite frankly, I didn't think was possible. It does this to everyone, but I forget about that. It's hotter than all the other summers I've run, but I forget about that too. Instead I've spent most of my runs the last three weeks or so putting myself down, doubting my ability and sanity, and wondering what in the world I was doing posing as a runner.

Today though, in the wee hours when the alarm went off, I got up anyway. I got up because I needed to run. Good or not, I'm part of a team now and I've no choice but to forge ahead. It's been so bad, I've actually been trying out the Galloway method of running a few minutes with a one minute walk break for my sanity and to try and prevent my darn IT band from killing me. This is kind of humiliating for some reason but it's what I've had to do to keep at it.

This morning was a short four mile run and my personal challenge was to run it without stopping, which I haven't done in weeks. I could feel the old ITB tighten up by mile two and by mile three I had to stop and stretch it out. Besides the one stretch break, I did the four continuously and that was helping my awful attitude take a turn back towards the light.

A fourth of the way into my final mile, a young teenager I see running all the time passed me with ease. "Good job! Keep up the good work!" I got out as she blazed past. At that moment I ran into a friend who asked, "Can I run a little with you?" She just started two days ago and wanted to see how long she could hang with me.

"I hope I'm not slowing you down," she said to me as I've said to so many others through the years.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not in a hurry," I told her. "I'm happy to have some company."

For a half a mile we chatted about running and I gave her some tips. Did I just say that? She was asking me for help. Me? Seriously? Would I be willing to run with her again sometime? Could she ask me some more questions?

I am not a good runner. I am not fast. More likely than not, I never will be. God has given me many gifts, but running is definitely not one of them. Today however, He reminded me that sometimes being good at something is not always about obvious success. Today I realized that in that woman's eyes, I am a runner. Not only that, but a runner who knows enough to help her. In her eyes, running her first half mile by my side, I am good.

When good things happen to me I always pray that I will remember them so that one day I will be able to pay it forward and help someone else in need. When I started running I felt so encouraged by everyone in my group that I wanted to stay with the sport long enough to be able to do that for someone else. Today I did.

Maybe, I thought, God doesn't have me running so that I can be good at it, but rather so I can be a good runner. When I am running I have some of my best prayer times. When I am running, I am a powerful intercessor. When I am running, I have the power to build others up and encourage them.

Turns out, I am a good runner...I'm just not very good at it.

Max Takes the Plunge

2011-08-02T17:02:00.003-04:00

We spent a lot of time last week on vacation begging Max to jump into the pool. He would run out into the waves and get rolled around without a tear. He'd let them wash over him and just spit them back out. Jumping into the pool should be no problem after that right?

Not so in three-year-old logic. The mind was sort of willing but the legs just would not let him take the plunge.

But today, oh today was glorious in his triumph. He started by letting Mackenzie hold him as she jumped into the shallow end. Next, he held her hand as they jumped together. Finally he did it on his own. Before I knew it, he was going off the diving board without a word. By the time I took out my phone to capture it he was done with the board but still willing to go it alone...in the deep end.

Awesome, truly.

Favorite Moments of the Day

2011-07-29T23:02:00.000-04:00

On my final six mile morning run on the shady and flat paths I love on this island, one man on a bike passed me and yelled, "Good job! Keep up the good work!" What a difference encouragement makes!

Sitting in the shade in a nice Adirondack chair watching the troops fish. Enjoying the enthusiasm of a fifteen year old cousin catching some turtles. Then watching a seven foot alligator threaten to approach us. Excitement!

Holding Max and then my niece as the giant waves crashed over us. Then listening to the laughter and watching the smiles and sputters.

Inventing a bowling game on the beach with Aiden and playing it with him. We were having so much fun, we attracted a small crowd to watch and comment on his creativity.

Watching Max take on the waves all by himself. He got tossed and tumbled and turned and loved every minute of it. What a dramatic change!

Looking down in the surf and catching a starfish (even though I know they're technically sea stars now). Almost as cool as yesterday's dolphin sighting.

Having two brother-in-laws and that same fifteen year old cousin help me with my kids and all my beach stuff as we packed up and headed for the trolley. Melts my heart and makes me so grateful for a family who helps when the husband is not there.

Watching the nine kids inhale their snow cones and then freeze on the air-conditioned trolley.

Having Nelson's uncle tell me eye to eye that it wasn't all my son's fault with such sincerity that he made me cry. I love that man.

Kissing four pair of sun-kissed cheeks good night at the end of an exhausting but fun day.

The knowledge that we have one more whole day tomorrow to enjoy.

A Good Rainy Day

2011-07-27T21:46:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was a rainy day at the beach. It was drizzling when I went for an early morning run and steadily picked up throughout the day. Not to be stopped, we headed to the beach anyway and the waves...were...awesome! We spent two and a half hours riding some monster waves and having the times of our lives. We did that because we were having fun; that and it was a bit chilly when you got out.

We finally turned it in when we were all blue. The rest of the day we watched it rain while we played cards and Scrabble and just plain hung out. All in all, not a bad rainy day the beach.

This morning we rolled over to hear the constant pitter patter of more rain and went back to bed. We had a lazy breakfast and played some more cards and prayed the rain would stop. It mean we're all about making the best out of a bad situation but at the beach one day of rain is quite enough.

Around noon it finally stopped and we were out of the house faster than ever. The sun was not shining, it was simply no longer raining and that was enough. We were happy to be outside. We were happy the sun was not beating down on us. We were happy it was not raining. We were happy that the waves were still HUGE.

It was out in the midst of those gigantic waves that I had one of my best beach experiences ever. About twelve feet in front of me a dolphin surfaced above the waves. It was by far the closest I have ever been to a dolphin in the water. We were so excited we started screaming and everyone in the water turned to look. At that moment the dolphin jumped so high his whole body came out of the water. I looked into his eyes and saw the white underside of his belly. It...was...amazing!

I don't know much, but I'm thinking if it hadn't been raining, we may not have seen that dolphin today. If it hadn't been raining, we wouldn't have had those amazing waves to ride. If it hadn't been raining, it wouldn't have been as cool.

Turns out a rainy day at the beach can be pretty good after all.

Unconditional Love

2011-07-24T21:15:00.000-04:00

Tonight I was chastising the boys for some hand to hand combat that has become the norm for working out their disagreements.

I first took the older boy and very sternly told him, "I don't care what he does, Max is three and you do not hit him...EVER."

I then turned to Max, who already had the lower lip protruding and a few tears welling up, "Do NOT hit...EVER!"

He burst into tears and leaned in for a hug as he told me, "I still love you Mama."

One for the Road

2011-07-22T23:11:00.002-04:00

I should be in bed as I have an extremely early wake-up in order to squeeze in a long run before it breaks 100 in the morning. I'm not going to tell you how early that is because it's going to be painful. The good part is I'm going with a friend and I won't have to feel guilty heading off to vacation with a run under my belt.
Part of the packing included uploading some pictures from my camera so I have room for vacation photos. When I came across this one of my patriotic crew on the 3rd of July I had to share it. Sometimes, when they're frozen in time like this, I can really see the love. These are the images I hold onto dearly in the moments when they're at each others' throats. When it comes down to it, they really do love each other, even though on most days I have to remind them of that.

Beach Bound

2011-07-21T23:09:00.003-04:00

Saturday we leave for the beach. I've found that no matter how much advance prep I do, there is always a longer list of things that have to be done the day before. I don't look forward to this. Only moms understand how much work it is to relax.

Of course there's all that work to get there and then all the work of unpacking when you arrive. We vacation with all of Nelson's family. There are a lot of us and it will be noisy and messy. The quarters are nice but when you have a family of six assigned to one little bedroom, you don't exactly leap for joy. The kids are getting bigger every year and when everyone is finally asleep, you can't put your feet on the floor without stepping on someone. Last year I actually panicked that I lost one when I found Dawson sleeping under our bed. I mentioned to Nelson that it might be good for us to get two rooms next time. He reminded me that that decision would double the price of the vacation for us. Squished we shall be.

On the other side there is a whole week in front of us with nothing to do but sit by the pool and lay on the beach. We have days to play with cousins and spend time with family we don't see often enough. We have nights full of stories and competitive matches of Taboo. There are meals shared and crosswords done. There are sandcastles to be built and wave jumping to be done. If I'm lucky, I may even get to read a book.

Suddenly the cramped quarters don't seem so bad. Let's face it, with thirty or so people around, not much sleeping gets done anyway. The memories, the smiles, the time away...these are the things that make all this work totally worth it.

One more day, then look out beach, here we come.

The Varsity

2011-07-20T22:03:00.003-04:00

Currently I'm procrastinating folding laundry by posting pictures from a month ago. Really I was looking for something else when I came across from some photos from our little anniversary trip.
After mass that morning we decided to eat somewhere that screamed Atlanta, GA and The Varsity was the unanimous choice. This place is known as the largest drive-in the states (I think). They are known for their rude service, long lines and downtown views.

But let me tell you, in spite of all this the place is always packed because of its food. It's simple fare - burgers, dogs, fries and rings. There's no fancy decor, no table service...nothing but really good, totally indulgent, bad for you food served on a paper plate no less.

We loved every single bite! If you ever make it to Atlanta, it is an experience you have to try.

Tonight's Gonna Be a Good Night

2011-07-19T23:39:00.003-04:00

Lately, I'm finding I have more things to write about than I have time for. I have pictures of my massive decorating changes and am working on a few more here and there. I had a pretty big birthday one week ago today that I want to share about. Shoot, I haven't even posted the photos of my dad (waiting on him to decide whether or not he wants those to go public) or Fourth of July.

What I'll leave you with tonight is a little entertainment of the Parris variety that my kids did for our annual Fourth of July Talent Show. They got up in front of several hundred people and gave it their all. What I want you to know is that after hours...and hours...and hours of rehearsing thinking they would have lapel mikes, they found out precisely ten minutes before show time that they didn't have those. Suddenly they were panicked. What about the dance moves? How will they hear us? I assured them they would do fine (even though I had the same doubts they did and was just as disappointed).

They pulled it together and got the job done. It was not what they rehearsed but unless you saw the practice, you would have never known. I'm so proud of them for going with the flow. I'm proud of their courage to get up in front of such a loud crowd. I'm proud of them for their enthusiasm on stage. Mostly though, I'm just proud of them for who they are and the fact that they belong to me.

The first 40 seconds or so is them trying to adjust the mikes for the kids so hang in there, fast forward to that point and enjoy.

Happy 8th Birthday Aiden!

2011-07-18T23:14:00.000-04:00

Aiden, today you turn eight. I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. I was sure you were a girl (we never find out before hand) even though you were pretty rough and tumble in the womb. I'm fairly certain if I bruise on the inside, you did it.

You came bursting into the world fast and furious. The doctor didn't get there and neither did the anesthesiologist. When they said, "It's a boy," none of that mattered. We were thrilled.

I learned in the hospital that the difference between boys and girls is inborn. Every day I am more convinced that is true because of you. You, my son, are nothing like your sister, which is probably a good thing. Boys are different and that's okay.
You are one of the most curious kids I know but what makes you stand out from most other kids who ask the non-stop questions is that you really want to know the answer. You are on a quest for more knowledge that I hope you continue throughout your life. You are very, very smart and I'm sure God has big things in store for you.

Happy Birthday!

Love, Mama

Sunday Summary

2011-07-17T21:24:00.003-04:00

Can you believe that I let a whole week go by without even looking at the computer? It was one of those typical whirlwind weeks. When we moved in, Nelson and I decided we needed to have house guests or host some big event at our place every few months of so in order to motivate us to get some things done around here that get placed on the back burner.

Friday afternoon my aunt, my cousin and his family all came for a visit. We were thrilled they were coming, but suddenly we felt a need to try to do all the things on our list at once. They didn't all get done but we checked off a huge chunk of things on that list.

It's amazing what you can get done with a little motivation (like houseguests), a little time (kids were in a vacation bible school last week at night and they ate dinner there), and a little inspiration (finally putting up those curtains in the laundry room).

I have photos to share but tomorrow is Aiden's birthday, which I'm embarrassed to admit, got put on hold with the house guests here. So I've got a shopping list to make, a cake to bake and some presents to buy. Let's hope that motivation and inspiration didn't leave with our guests!

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine

2011-07-11T23:29:00.002-04:00

Saturday we went to the lake with some friends. We swam for a good long while before having a picnic supper. We had our kids plus one with us and there were plenty of other kids in the mix. Nelson and I were doling out the burgers and passing out the condiments and chips. There was a sigh of relief when the two of us finally sat down and began to eat.

Max had garnered a space at a picnic table across from where we were. About fifteen minutes into the meal we heard a little voice from across the way. "Hey, did someone forget to give me my food?" Nelson and I looked at each other in utter surprise. Did we forget to feed our baby? Somehow, he went totally undetected in the chaos.

There were no tears. There were no tantrums. There wasn't even a harsh word from the kid. He simply stated a fact and then waited patiently while I slapped some ketchup on a burger and tossed it his way.

I watched him as he happily gobbled up that burger. Poor kid, I thought. By this time the other kids at his table had finished and rushed back to the water. Still there was no complaint from Max. He watched them swim as he polished off every bit of his dinner.

I was feeling terrible about my mistake. Then I looked at Max sitting there eating, happy as a clam. I was blown away by his sweet spirit. Here was this three year old, totally content to make the best of a bad situation. In fact, he was more than content, he was perfectly happy.

Tonight I was once again reminded of this sweet disposition of his when he came down crying because his back hurt. He never does this so I seized the opportunity to hold him for awhile and rub his back as he fell asleep in my arms. I can't remember the last time he did this and I was utterly amazed at how blessed I am to be his mother.

I was in an awkward position so I asked Nelson to carry him back upstairs. I watched him grab my baby who has suddenly outgrown his arms. His long legs were hanging over one of Nelson's arms and his arms were hanging over the other one. In the blink of an eye, he has grown up. And though I miss the baby he was, I am so happy with the boy he has become.

Of all the worries I've had about him over the few years he's been in my life, I would take any of them again and then some if it meant he would still have this same personality.

I am convinced if I could clone this kid of mine, I'd be a millionaire.

Try A Little Tenderness

2011-07-07T21:22:00.003-04:00

Tonight I plopped myself down on the couch next to Max. He looked up and said so sweetly, "Mama, I just wanna give you this." He proceeded to lean in and plant a big kiss on my cheek.

In the Holiday Haze

2011-07-05T23:02:00.002-04:00

On the blog it looks like the Fourth just came and went. That's what it looks like now, but in a day or two...or maybe three, I will show you that it came and conquered - us.

There were five solid days of celebrations. We celebrated with dance, food and fireworks. We celebrated in the water, the backyard and in homes. We celebrated by standing in my parents' driveway on Monday, cheering like crazy as my mom pulled in with my dad.

There are pictures and words which I will share when I'm not so worn out from the festivities. It was a great holiday. Tonight, I'm kind of glad it's over.

Don't You Mean MC?

2011-07-01T22:52:00.002-04:00

Mackenzie commented at lunch today: I really like McHammer. What else does he sing besides "Can't Touch This"?

An Update on Dad

2011-06-30T15:49:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was utterly exhausting. Something about kissing my dad goodbye before surgery made the dam finally break loose. Of course when they came in to tell us they had made the first incision, which got the tears flowing again. At that point we said a family Rosary in the waiting room and my mom and I cried our way through that as well. Knowing he was on the heart and lung machine was not easy either.

The rest of the morning was spent laughing over Modern Family and YouTube clips with my brothers, reading and chatting. When they came in to tell us that they were closing him up and that everything looked great, there was a collective sigh of relief and a lot of "Thank You Jesus" remarks. Instead of 4 to 6 hours of surgery, they were done in an hour and a half. Amazing!

It would be at least an hour before we could see him so we grabbed a bite to eat in the cafeteria. Have I told you how much I love my family? In a tremendous time of stress, we were there. My mom, my brothers and myself waited it out together. There were no harsh words or arguments. Instead there was laughter, prayer, some hand holding and yes, tears.

When at last we were allowed to go in together to the ICU there was a unanimous feeling of fear of what we would see but a strong desire to see him with our own eyes. Walking into that ICU seeing my dad on a vent with tubes coming out of almost ten different places on his body was overwhelming. He looked, well, not there. It was perhaps the hardest moment of the day for me.

We took turns staying with him through the rest of the day. By 4:30 he was doing well enough to be taken off the vent which made a big difference in his overall appearance. By 9:30 last night when I left, he was talking (although he was so loopy we were fighting over who got to sit with him in order to hear the hilarious things he said), sitting up and drinking.

So far today most of the tubes and wires have been removed, he's been up and walking - first with the walker and now without - and he's out of the ICU. Everyone at the hospital has told us how strong he is and how he's been one of the fastest bypass patients to leave the ICU.

You and I both know that none of this is short of miraculous. After all, when the doctor looked at his pre-bass heart, he said he only sees hearts like that in corpses. I thank you for your prayers. Among all the other emotions I felt yesterday, I felt a tremendous sense of support and love for all the people praying for us and checking in on me.

I don't know what people without faith do!

Not Sure There is a Direct Connection

2011-06-28T15:19:00.002-04:00

"Hey guys, you remember Uncle Grant and Aunt Rachel?"

"Yes," was the unanimous reply.

"They had another baby. It’s a girl and they named her Violet."

"Wow!" observed Aiden. "I bet her favorite color is going to be purple."

The Heart of the Matter

2011-06-27T21:39:00.006-04:00

I think I've mentioned that my next big event was to be a part of a relay team for the Half Ironman here in town. A friend of ours is an avid biker and approached me at a Christmas party about being on a team together. He assured me he didn't care about time and so I happily agreed. All we needed was a swimmer.

A few months ago I got a call from my dad. "I have this wild hair," said the man who has jumped out of airplanes in recent days, "that I might do the swimming leg for your half team." I have to admit I was a bit stunned. I wasn't sure it was the greatest idea. It doesn't sound like much but 1.2 miles is a long swim.

Once my teammate agreed and I wrapped my mind around the idea, I got really excited about not only participating in the world's largest Half Ironman, but doing it on a team with my dad. How cool is that?

As training ensued, I had lots of chats with him about his swimming. He was having some trouble. I told him to give it some time. After all, even though my dad is in great shape, it has been a long time since he swam. He continued but it was hard. About two weeks ago he told me I may need to find a new teammate. "You'll be fine," I assured him.

That same week he stopped by and mentioned in passing that he got out of the pool shaking and went to see his doctor, who detected some extra beats of his heart and hurried him off to the cardiologist for some tests. Still, I told him he'd be alright. He's never been really sick; surely his heart would be fine because of his exercise and diet.

Those tests led to a stress test which led to a heart cath. As the snowball got rolling I found myself wondering what if something was really wrong. What would my life be like without my dad? Funny, I don't remember ever having that thought. My dad lives less than a mile from me, jumps out of airplanes, works out almost daily and is still the one I call when Nelson is not around. It didn't take me long to realize that I did not like that picture...not at all. I decided right then and there not to entertain that thought again. The sadness was overwhelming.

My brother called to tell me the news. The cath showed that dad had two coronary arteries with 100% blockage. There was also partial blockage in three other places. The doctor said it was a miracle he was still alive. It's people like him who are fine and then they drop dead doing something like mowing the lawn. The blockages have been in his heart for a very long time, maybe twenty years or so. The bigger miracle was that because of his health and exercise choices over the last few years, there has been no permanent damage to the heart itself. His heart developed extra veins to feed itself. His exercise, in the words of the cardiologist, has saved his life. Furthermore, if he hadn't pushed himself through this swim training, which stressed the heart more than usual, we would have never known anything was wrong.

Bypass surgery was scheduled for this Wednesday and then they sent him home from the hospital because the recommended surgeon was unavailable. They didn't see him as an immediate risk since he had lived with his heart like this for so long. The plan is to do five grafts.

My poor mother, as you can imagine, is a nervous wreck. Being a nurse, she knows full well all that can go wrong and has let us know in no uncertain terms that anything to do with the heart is a very big deal. She's been sent home with a time bomb and has been given the task of making my dad take it easy...which, believe me, is no small task. I don't envy her job and if I were her, I'm pretty sure I would react in the same manner.

My brother from Kansas City is on his way here as I type. We're hosting a cookout tomorrow to spend some family time together before the big surgery and hospitalization that will follow. Then we'll all be at the hospital Wednesday to be there for our parents the way they have been there for us all of our lives.

I find myself unusually unworried about all of this. I understand fully (at least as fully as a nonmedical mind is capable of) what's going on but I'm not worked up about it. Funny how faith can do that for you.

Instead of worry, I am amazed at how God has kept my dad safe all of these years. I marvel at His plan sending the Holy Spirit to nudge my dad into the whole swimming thing. I am grateful for his family doctor who listened carefully enough to catch the irregularity, the cardiologist who did the same as well as the doctor who did the heart cath. I am confident in the surgeon because all of the doctors dealing with my dad have used this same surgeon on their family members. I am also clinging to the his promise that he was adding time on to dad’s life...not a few years, but ten to twenty years.

Now don't get me wrong, if God has something other than my dad's quick recovery and perfect health in mind, I may not be singing this same song. I will be mad (no offense God, I'm just sayin'). But, even if that happens, I still have faith enough to know that God's plan is better than mine, not that I always agree with it. I know that God loves my dad even more than I do and that He can take much better care of him than I can.

Open heart surgery was not what any of us had hoped for, but it is what it is. Truth be told, I think that once my dad recovers, he is going to be unstoppable. If he could do all that he did with a heart as weak as his, imagine what he'll be able to do with one that's working at full capacity. My dad, after all, is the real Superman.

So the Half Ironman may not be in the cards this year but next year - next year, we are going to have one heck of a race. I'm going to be able to say that I was on a team with a man who is a walking (or rather swimming) miracle and it's going to be glorious!

I've Been Bitten

2011-06-25T21:12:00.003-04:00

I haven't posted much this week because it seems I've caught a bit of a bug. It's been so long since I've had it that I had forgotten how quickly it comes on and how suddenly it takes over. But, to tell you the honest to goodness truth, I'm loving it.

Ok, I'm not really sick; I've caught the decorating bug. Remember way back when we were building, and building, and building the house? I was pregnant (at least for the last little bit) and basically took on decorating the house as a full time job. If you see it in the house, I chose it - tile, lights, plumbing fixtures, paint, tile...you get the picture. It was exhausting and confusing but, well, kind of fun too. The end result was a house that we love and one woman tired of making decorating decisions for awhile.

Fast forward three years and that's kind of where I still am. We have a few photos on the walls but not many. I'm not sure if it was a conscious decision or just running out of steam that halted all progress on making our house more of a home. I've never shopped for curtains, furniture besides the necessities, or decorations of any kind.

Of course there was that whole having a newborn who grew into a toddler who didn't toddle and then all that therapy. There was the fact that I worked last year a little and this year part-time. And well, the whole economy crashing had an effect on us too which meant funds have been, shall we say, a little tight for awhile. Hmm... no wonder I didn't do anything.

Around Christmas I won a gift certificate to a local decorator's store and happened upon a little sign I fell in love with for the laundry room. It's the second smallest room in the house, but when Nelson hung the sign for me, I caught the vision for the room. And then I had to go back to work and all forward momentum screeched to a halt.

While the boys were out of town last week, I managed to clear out the nursery to make way for a real live guest room. The very day I finished, I got a note from my cousin asking if they could come for a visit in July. Nothing like house guests to light the fire.

With the kids in vacation bible school and golf camp this week, I had a few free hours every day. Nelson gave me a budget and off I went. The curtain shopping totally overwhelmed me. I realized the reason I've never done it was that I have no idea what I like. As you can imagine, that did not help with the shopping.

Then I found what I decided I wanted way back in December for the laundry room. It was a cute cafe curtain that went perfectly. I went with a simple extension rod, got home, ironed the curtain and hung it myself. Viola! One room done and suddenly I was ready to move on.

Sometimes You Just Don't Feel Like It

2011-06-22T23:29:00.002-04:00

After assigning everyone a chore this morning, Max sang, "Today I don't feel like doing anything," in perfect tone. Then he looked at me and said, "I have a good idea Mama. How about when I sing that song, I don't have to do anything I don't want to?"

*Disclaimer: My children do NOT know the words to this inappropriate song. Unfortunately the first line that sends me reaching for the volume/fast forward/power button is very catchy.