Astronomy fail.

Have you ever had a day where you just saw the world more clearly? Where everything is in focus and sharp. You feel alive and refreshed and really, really AWESOME.

That was last Wednesday for me.

I was ON.

And I was LOVING it because I know how rare those days are for me.

Not once did I lose my patience with the countless, "why's" coming from the backseat. I embraced each of them as a learning opportunity. I taught Wit about shadows and light, sunshine and shade. We stared up at the clouds and saw whales and airplanes and Santa. We ran in a field of dandelions and twirled until I almost threw up.

I just couldn't stop the awesome.

{really hope you can hear the sarcasm here}

Anyway, sometime during the day I realized the source of all this energy.  It came in the form of a white chocolate mocha.  I was fully caffeinated, which is rare.  Days like this make me wonder why I ever gave up caffeine in the first place.

I kept waiting for the crash.  The caffeine coma that happens about 5 hours after a really strong drink.  But it never hit.  I never crashed.  I just kept getting more awesome! {sarcasm, again.}

As I was driving the kids after school we saw the moon in the bright blue sky.  Every time this happens, Wit screams at the moon and tells it to, "GET BACK TO CHINA."  You know, because every three year old cares about time zones and moon cycles.

Oh silly child. 

I thought it best to use this as an amazing opportunity to teach my precious children astronomy.  We pulled into the garage and I proceeded to get two balls, one big and one small.  The big one I called EARTH and the small ball I called THE SUN.

{did you catch that, cause I sure didn't}

I assumed my best teacher voice and proceeded to instruct my two youngest about the daily cycle of the sun rotating around the earth.  With the big ball of EARTH in one hand, I moved the small SUN around it and said,

"We are on the top of the Earth and when the sun is above us, it is daytime.  When the sun rotates below us, it is night for us but day for the countries on the bottom.  And the sun does this every day."

everysingleday

FACT:  The sun rotates around the Earth everyday.  I had visual aids to prove it which immediately makes it 87% more legit.

Somewhere along my unforgettable astronomy lesson, Zeb walked up.  He listened for about half a minute before he interrupted and said,

"Mom, really?  REALLY?  Are you kidding?  Why are you LYING to them?"

He's eleven.  What could he possibly know about astronomy.  This was MY MOMENT.  Mine and my rockin' visual aids.  I'm at the top of my game.


"Son, I am not LYING to them, I am teaching them about how the sun rotates around the earth everyday making night and day."  sheesh

"Mom???  Are you OK?"

"Um, yeah.  I'm MORE than OK.  Why?"

"Oh, I don't know...BECAUSE YOU ARE WRONG!!!  {insert really annoying tween boy laughter.  I am sure you don't have to use your imagination.}  The sun doesn't revolve around the earth AT ALL.  And you have the size of the balls all wrong.  The big ball is the sun and the little ball is the earth.  THE EARTH SPINS AROUND THE SUN AND IT TAKES A WHOLE YEAR.  A WHOLE YEAR, MOM"

Now the tween boy laughter just got louder and louder and louder and more annoying.  In fact, it was starting to hurt a little.  Finally, he walked away.

"Hey, Dad?  You should hear what mom just said about the sun and the earth.  I JUST SCHOOLED HER"

aaaaaannnnd, the teacher becomes the student.

I guess all the awesome had worn off somewhere in the field of dandelions and twirling.

Which, I nailed, by the way.

Fodder Dodder Canoe Trip

There is something magical that happens every spring on a river in Arkansas.

The annual Fodder Dodder Canoe Trip.

Canoeing and magical together in the same sentence???  What?

That's right.  Magical.

Because to a little girl having her big, strong daddy all too herself for two whole days is very magical.

He is her hero.

Her knight in shining armor.

Her very own daddy.

Just nothing but time and a river to spend together.

She knows her daddy is all there for her.

When he should could be working.

He choose her.

And that, my friends, is magical.

True love between a daddy and his princess. 

And his really big hat.

The 24 reasons why I love my smart phone.

If I had the nerve, I would re-title this post to say, "The 24 reasons why I am glad I didn't ruin my smartphone by peeing on it."

But I'm not that brave.

I am afraid some sicko would go*gle "smart phone" and "pee" and end up here looking at all my reasons I love my phone. That just gives me the shivers.

I know it's happened a million times before to lots of other great people. Your hands are full so you put your phone in your back pocket. Then you forget about it when you enter the restroom. Normal people might hear the PLOP as their phones hit the water. Not me. No ma'am. I barely even register the {how should I put this} splash. I thought it was just a jiggly toilet seat. Little did I know that MY LIFE was in that toilet!

Everyone with a smart phone knows EXACTLY what I mean by that!

After screaming and being sufficiently freaked out for the occasion, a friend of mine grabbed my {wet} phone and took it all apart and dumped it in a baggie full of silicon beads. It all happened so fast. I will never forget the look on his face when he realized WHY my phone was wet.

ICKY.

A day and many prayers later, my phone came back to life! {Praise Jesus!} I didn't lose one single thing, most of all my pictures.

The reason for this post. The 24 reasons why I love my smart phone, and the stories behind them.

**warning, very long post ahead! 
**literally fought with wordpress and blogger for two days on this post, so the pictures are in very random order.  I just want to be done!!!

Skip and I both graduated from Texas Christian University.  They send baby gifts when alumni announce births.  Wit found this in a drawer!  He is TCU quality, alright.

Alana and I trained to run in a half marathon this December.  {What? What?}  This was before the race started, the after was NOT SO FRESH!  What a journey this was for us.  Lots of emotional highs and lows.  My lowest point in training was fighting with Achilles tendinitis.  Very painful.  Around mile 8 of the race, it gave out.  I couldn't run without excruciating pain.  I convinced Alana to go on without me and we parted through a haze of tears.  I was turning back when a friend from church came alongside me and said I would regret this forever if I didn't finish.  Even if it took hours, I was finishing.  My friend Pam walked a mile with me and finally I decided I wanted to run the rest of the race.  It was only God and me at that point.  He gave me the strength to cross that finish line with my head held high!  I am so proud of what we accomplished!

Happy Valentine's Day! Love decorating for this special day!

I love these women! We met in the early days of parenting at MOPS. What an incredible gift! Alana, Michelle, Shelley and Jen...I love you!

Wit meets the Easter Bunny!  My only kiddo who wasn't terrified!

Sweet Langley had a speaking part in her 2nd grade musical!  Her lines were about how F-U-N music is and how it helps us learn.  {doesn't she look like she is having FUN?}  So proud of my shy girl for having the courage to speak in front of hundreds of people.  Even if she didn't look like she was having F-U-N!

PLAY BALL!!!  Opening day for 2012.  My favorite player is up to bat. 

Zeb's athletic cup, aka, "Mr. Happy."  I will never understand boys.

Easter Sunday 2012.  This is the first year no one had matching new clothes.  I call it growth on my part.  I just don't care anymore!  Or, maybe I do care but I'm too tired.  Anyway, they look lovely!  I am proud of my kids!

This picture makes my heart happy.  Less than a year ago, my brother had a stroke and you would never know it.  He is getting stronger and healthier as the year has gone on.  I am so very proud of all the work he has done for himself.  I love that he takes such an interest in my kids.  He taught Zeb how to grill the most amazing burgers!  We love Uncle Mikey!

Easter Sunday at my Grannie's house.  We had a wonderful time celebrating Easter with a lot of food and outdoor fun!  My cousin, Renae and her son, Ayden came from Kansas.  From left to right, Renae, Grannie, me, my pretty mom, and Langley!  I am blessed by these amazing and strong women!

Skip drooling and dreaming over an 80 inch TV.  I couldn't get him to move from that spot and when I did, he had drool running down his chin.  Thou shalt not covet.

April 18, 2001 at 7:47am this awesome kids was born.  Eleven years has flown by.  Being a first born means that we make mistakes together.  I am trying to figure out how this thing called GRACE works!  But mostly, I love this kid!!!!

Her mission?  Find every climbing tree and climb them.

I take my Wingman along when I volunteer at school.  There is a secret workroom in Langley's school and that is usually where we like to do our work.  It's quiet and small and just the right size for a paper fort built by a three year old!  He makes a new one every week!

SOGGY.  Where have you gone, Soggy?  Wit misses you so much.  I keep thinking you will turn up, but you stay hidden.  Thank goodness I had the presence of mind to order two of these amazing blankies.  I am so afraid we will lose the last one though!

P90X.  It's a miracle I even get up in the morning!  I set my alarm for 4:45 because my sweet neighbor comes over at 5:00 sharp.  We spend an hour working out before the world wakes up.  I have come to love this time so much.  Meanwhile, across town is another friend that wakes up at 5:00 to do the same.  We text each other to make sure we got ourselves out of bed!  It's a great way to hold each other accountible!

What a fun memory this was!  My stepdad is a professional angler {it means he fishes real good for money}.  Anyway, he was in a tournament on our local lake and was in good standing to come in first.  We sent him this text message the final day.  AND...He won!!!  It was so exciting!  He's kind of a big deal in the fishing world and we get the priviledge of calling him, "grandpa."

I can't get enough of this face.  This loud, crazy, yelling face has me head over heels!

There are no words.

First time Wit wrote his name!!  W-I-T!!!  So glad I had my camera to capture this precious memory!!

October 28, 2003 at 1:59pm a beautiful, sweet, kind baby girl was born.  Life has never been the same!  Now she is eight and I just want her to freeze here.  Thankyouverymuch.

One of my favorite things I did last year was to run a 5K with Zeb on Thanksgiving morning.  It was amazing to be with him.  Skip and Zeb have so many more chances to bond through sports, but running is mine and his alone.  We had the best time talking and laughing.  My heart will remember this day forever!!!!  And, wow.  That kid is fast!

After the half marathon and all my ankle struggles, Alana recommended that I have my running assessed by a local running store.  They video you running and can tell everything about you in the thirty second feed.  I have always had Asics and through this process learned that they are one of the worst things for MY running.  They fitted me in a Brooks minamalist shoe.  Not only is it sassy, but it is the miracle that I needed to keep my running up.  Currently, Alana and I are still running twice a week.  We aren't training, but maintaining about 5 miles.  The shoe assessment was well worth the time!  If you run, DO IT!!!

Thank you so much for hanging in there with me!  I have about 300 more photos on my phone that are now safetly uploaded to my computer.

JUST IN CASE...

Twenty years this summer.

It's been twenty years since I've worn braces.

How do I remember such a weird milestone? Because I graduated high school wearing those same braces.  My parents wouldn't let me get them taken off before my senior pictures like the lucky girl's parents did.

I was so jealous that the lucky girl got hers taken off just in time for pictures and I still had a year to go.

I'm still bitter about it.

(But I looked like that back then and could have used all the help I could get.)

(I probably should have invested more time in worrying about my hair and less about my braces.)

(Clear braces turn yellow.  Did anyone know that?  Well, they do.  Bright yellow.)

(If only I had a time machine.)

It's so funny what you remember about a time period in which you would love to forget. 

I remember being intimidated by the popular crowd and the "jocks".

I remember thinking that one critical mistake would be the legacy by which people would define me.

I remember agonizing over a pimple (and those darn braces) thinking my life was ruined forever.

I remember wearing Skip's letterman's jacket and feeling like I didn't deserve it.

I remember teachers that liked me and teachers that didn't.

I remember being more concerned about my after school activities than my school work.

I remember the smell of the halls and the sound of Mrs. L's clickety tall boots.

I remember feeling inspired by a science teacher and humiliated by a math one.

I remember wishing I had better clothes and better hair and better shoes.

*somethingsneverchange*


I remember carrying around my insecurities like a giant backpack.

I remember sitting on those bleachers waiting for them to call my name so my grown up life could begin.

A twenty year reunion seems ridiculous when you are 18.  The world is ahead of you and you are invincible.  Anything is possible.  Everything is attainable.   The gap between what you know and what you THINK you know is huge.

Eighteen is a cocky age.

Thirty eight, not so much.  You (hopefully) have ripened and softened and been seasoned by life.  You (hopefully) have become the person you wish you could have been in high school.  Confident, wise, stable, proven.

Improved.

Twenty years is the perfect amount of time for a reunion.  Not that I wasn't a nervous wreck when the planning committee started to send out facebook plans.  I was a MESS trying to get ready for the reunion.  I struggled with my weight and my clothes and my hair just like I did 20 years ago.

But I knew something that I didn't back then.

I knew I was SAFE.  No matter what I blurted out of my mouth, or if my shoes weren't exactly right, or even if I woke up with a zit the size of Texas. 

I was safe.  I knew that life would go on even if these people didn't like me anymore.  It wouldn't change my life to be rejected or snubbed.  My high school self was going to be OK no matter what!

And I am so glad that I realized that.  It was such a fun weekend.  It was great to see old friends and find out where life has taken them since high school.  Everyone was so sweet and genuinely interested in one another.  Such a relief to know that none of that high school stuff mattered anymore.

Here's to the next 20 years.

May we all continue to improve!


And about those braces, SOOOOO thankful!  Even if my 18 year-old self was mentally scarred.  She'll get over it.

This is me pushing through the writer's block.

I really can't believe it has been so long since I wrote a blog post. I have wanted to write.  I have had plenty of stuff to say.  But it just hasn't happened naturally.

I'm officially blocked.

Sure, I could blame the fact that I don't have access to a computer during the day.  But that's not entirely true.  I do have access, but it's all the way downstairs.  And it's slow.  And I can't upload pictures from that desktop.

(And yet, I still make time for pinterest.  Amen?)

Oh, woe is me.

When I last wrote, it was a pretty hard time for our family.  I stopped so suddenly that I hope no one was worried that something worse had happened.  It didn't.  My brother and father-in-law are both doing great!  Time has just gotten the better of me.  It's been a blur.

Summer came and went...

Baseball season came and went...

Potty training my last baby came and went...

My 20th HS reunion came and went...

Swimsuit season came and went...

Lazy, carefree days came and went...

The start of school came and went...

And this blog sat quiet for all of it.  I haven't shared pictures or stories or pity parties with you in a very long time.

So here is where I get frozen.  Do I pretend that 4 months haven't past and just tell the stories like they just happened?  Or do I just move forward?  Or do I try to do both?

This is me.  Frozen with indecision.

*deep breath*

I guess the only thing to do now is MOVE FORWARD.

Move forward with our life.  Our stories.  My (ahem...alleged) pity parties.

Move forward with our relationship.

Moving forward, with a special look back on some of the summer fun.  Like that 20th reunion I mentioned.  And the start of school.

Moving forward, unfrozen.  Unblocked.

I like that decision.

Snot and Kisses back in business.



 

On eating elephants.

Zeb's 4th grade teacher is a master at motivating her students. She relates to them in such an honest, pure, and humorous way. She has a gift for teaching squirmy (and sometimes smelly) 4th graders. Watching her in action is like being in the presence of greatness.  Truly.

In April, they took the state-mandated achievement tests. For two weeks students labored over the MAP standardized test and it was quite overwhelming. Mrs. P. told her kids to look at the test in terms of eating an elephant.

You don't sit down at your table and gooble up an entire elephant in one sitting. You have to plan it. You have to take it slowly. You have to take the elephant in small sections or you will get completely overwhelmed.

She would say this to them and they would giggle. Eating an elephant is quite the word picture.  But it was something that stuck with these 10-year-olds.  They learned to slow down and take the test one chunk at a time.

One day at a time.

Until it was over.

That is how I feel now after ALL THE STUFF that has happened in my family these past few weeks.  The recovery period for my brother, my father-in-law, and my mom seems like a pretty big elephant sitting there on my kitchen table.  There is a lot of work to do before they are all healthy.  When I look at the BIG PICTURE I get scared and overwhelmed.  Like if I was told to eat a whole elephant in one sitting.  When/IF I remember Mrs. P's advice and start breaking it down,  it seems much more manageable.

One day at a time.

For the most part, everyone is doing really well.  My brother is regaining strength and mobility everyday.  He is learning how to eat better and eliminate stress factors.  His blood pressure is now down in the healthy range that it should have been all these years.  The progress he is making is nothing short of a miracle.  God has given him a second chance at life.  I am so proud of him.  He will beat this!

My father-in-law, Ralph 2, is also gaining strength.  He stubbornly tried to work yesterday and the heat literally wiped him out.  He needs to take some time for rest and recuperation.  I think he (mistakenly) feels like he is invincible.  I do hope that he can be healthy for many many more years.  I would love to see him permanantly retire and go on his dream vacation to Australia. 

My mom is one-handed and will be for the next 6-8 weeks.  But the good news (for now) is that the doctor feels like she doesn't need surgery to heal.  She will go back in a week for more x-rays, but (for now) the doctor is satisfied with her progress.  I know she is frustrated.  It is really hard on her to be "handicapped" in any way.  She is a worker and has a huge responsibility taking care of my brother.  But she is determined to make the best of it. 

It's so easy for me to look at the BIG PICTURE (or the giant elephant) and get completely overwhelmed.  Nothing good comes from me freaking out.  I promise you that. 

So I remember to breathe. 

In and out. 

Make a plan.

Bite off small chunks.

And pretty soon the elephant will be gone.

One day at a time.

**If you clicked here looking for an elephant recipe, I am sorry.  No elephants are actually being eaten.  Not by me and not by any 4th graders that I know.  I heart metaphors.

Finding myself at a loss for words.

I have been meaning to post for the last two weeks but haven't known where to begin.  Two weeks ago our lives changed in ways we never expected.  A season of hardship ushered in blowing drought-like winds over our tired bodies.

Just two short weeks ago we were...

• celebrating the end of diapers FOREVER
• making our summer bucket list
• going on play dates
• having sleepovers
• celebrating my step-dad's tournament victory on our hometown lake
• making 4th of July potluck plans
• planning a trip to St. Louis with some of our best friends

Life changes in the blink of an eye.

Two weeks ago my brother had a stroke and Skip's dad had a heart attack.  Both within two days of each other.  Both in two different hospitals in our area.  Both serious.

As if that wasn't enough.  My family also had 3 rounds of stomach flu and 1 throat virus with high fevers to manage.  Add in other heavy and very sad life issues surrounding us.  Our small corner of the world was hit hard.

We adapted.

Our schedules, our kids, our plans, our calendar, our desires all adapted to fit the needs of this crisis.  Skip and I passed each other coming and going from one hospital to another.  Our kids went from friend to friend to friend.  I struggle with asking for help.  Meaning that it must be a weakness of some sort to admit that you are struggling and need your friends.  It's not.  My friends busted down the wall I was building and love poured through the cracks.  Every text, every call, every meal, every offer for kids was perfectly timed in my weakest moments. 

God knew what I needed and when.  And He made my friends even more amazing.

Both men are home from their respective hospitals and are slowly getting nursed back to health.  Both will take some time before they are back to normal.  Life slowly is starting to fall back into place.  Our vacation plans to St. Louis were cancelled.  But we adapted, once again and had a staycation (post coming) with our friends.  Smiles have started to replace worry lines.

Then yesterday.

My mom, who is nursing my brother back to health, fell and broke her wrist in two places.  Two very bad breaks.  She finds out tomorrow whether those breaks will require surgery to heal.  (Oh, please Lord, no)

My heart can't take any more hurt.

I am finding myself at a loss for words.

My God understands.

He can read between the silent broken pieces of my heart.

My job.  Keep laying down my fears, my worries, my anger, my doubts, my weariness, my will.

At His feet.

At the cross.

Wait for joy.

And rest.