ADDing Focus

If God were a search engine...

2011-10-28T21:06:00.000-05:00

Do you ever wish you could just Google God? I do. This week I found myself searching my favorite search engine for answers to big questions – life impacting and life changing questions. I would type in my whole question like the Google genie at the other end might pop up several answers with the most pertinent at the top. The absurdity didn’t even strike me. I am desperate for answers and guidance. I found myself really desiring wisdom for answers to my questions.

Not surprisingly Google did not give me any answers. In fact, I found emptiness in the information that I did get. Or worse, in the end, I had more questions.

What was I thinking? Of course, Google was not where I would find my answers or wisdom. But my microwave mentality (I want instant results) got the best of me. Back to the original search engine I go. What better place to seek wisdom than in Proverbs? Oh that Solomon, he was one wise guy.

My middle child spoke my heart the other day, “I wish I could just write Jesus a letter and He would write me back. I would ask him about Heaven and like what I am supposed to do. Then I could get a letter from Him, it would just appear, and He would tell me about these things.” Jesus as a pen pal. Hmm… God as a search engine… Then again, maybe He is there for me to search, in prayer, and perhaps the answers won’t pop up immediately on my computer screen. But surely I will get better results.

The Tooth Fairy Fail

2011-06-10T08:44:00.000-05:00

It's been a long time since I have been thinking bloggy and composing posts in my head. But yesterday's events flipped the switch and reminded me that sometimes life gives me very blog-worthy moments.

There are a few things in the world of parenting that I super stink at. Keeping tabs on the Tooth Fairy is definitely a serious short coming for me. First of all, am I the only one who doesn't see the loss of a tooth as a major momentous event? I guess being an elementary school nurse and having multiple lost teeth a day numbs my sentimental-tooth-losing side. Whatever it is, my kids lose a tooth and by bed time, when they are pouring their hearts out in letters to the Tooth Fairy, I am merrily going on about my business.

To make matters infinitely worse, neither my husband nor I ever carry cash should the Tooth Fairy forget to stop by. The thing about cash is that if you have it, invariably your kids ask for it. The Tooth Fairy has left quarters, gold dollars, "borrowed" money (from the last time they visited - could have even been from the last time they visited the child's sibling - I know). She has left IOU's, gift cards, and sometimes she even leaves them down in the crack between the bed and the wall - I don't know why, but in that case it is usually me that has to "help find" the money. In any case, two nights ago the Tooth Fairy plumb forgot to come and without any cash to my name I couldn't help the old gal out.

Reba, ever Reba, decides she is going to get to the bottom of this. She Googles, "Where was the Tooth Fairy last night?" Yes, she was seriously going to track this fairy down and let her know what was what. Anyhow, somehow she found this Tooth Fairy site and right away got herself assigned a new Tooth Fairy. "Twinkle" will now be servicing all her Tooth Fairy needs. Great.

I am pretty sure "Twinkle" came around 5:30am. I may have been up feeding a baby around that time and heard some fairy commotion.

Unsolicited Prayer

2011-02-20T19:15:00.000-06:00

Unsolicited prayer. Today my family was the recipient of one such prayer. Unsolicited but oh so welcomed.

A woman that we didn't know, sat in front of us at church today. This lady, a middle aged, heavy set, dark complected woman, sat by herself. She didn't come with family. She didn't meet up with friends. She was by herself. I wondered what her story was. In a mega church like ours, I find that it happens that I might sit near or next to someone I don't really know. I was interested to know her. But I didn't.

When the service was over we left to go collect our toddler - the baby and our two older kids were with us for service. On our way back from getting the boy we were headed to a meeting after church and this woman walked up to us - the same woman from the row in front of us. Now the sheer odds in a church our size that we would be in the same hallway at the same time as this woman are pretty slim. But there she was.

The woman stopped us. She told us that she felt God telling her to pray for us, the baby, our children. The baby had caught her attention in worship and the Lord had pressed it upon her heart. She was trying to be faithful. We stopped, she prayed, we made some introductions, and we parted ways.

How did she know? Her prayer, so simple, yet so deep. She prayed for the baby. She prayed for us as parents. She prayed for our family. She asked for protection and for God's plan to be fulfilled for these children. And then she walked away.

Unsolicited. Overwhelming. Covered in prayer from a woman we didn't know - but she knew us. Somehow her prayer cut right to the heart of everything we were swimming in. An angel? I don't know. In the whirl, I can't remember if she ever told us her name.

Facebook Fast

2011-02-20T16:13:00.001-06:00

I am pretty sure my posts here indirectly correlate with my updates on Facebook. I am looking at my past posts and I see a dramatic drop when I joined Facebook. Unfortunately for me - and perhaps for the two of you who still read my blog, my one liner posts on FB are far less entertaining than the elaborate stories about life that I loved to post here. Currently I am in a self imposed Facebook fast. I found myself spending unnecessary hours logged on seeing what everyone else was up to instead of actually being up to anything myself. YIPES!

So, naturally, what I would do in the absence of FB is get back to blogger :) Purely for creative purposes, of course.

My Facebook post today would be: "It's a washing machine miracle!" See? It's a one liner with no back story. So, what you couldn't know with just my Facebook update, is that we have been sans working washing machine for officially one whole month. I know. We are a family of 6 with babies and pets that make messes. This was a very serious matter.

What you couldn't know by my FB status is the seriousness of the stench coming from the Mount Everest of laundry forming in what was once Brian's photography studio. You couldn't know that after weeks of laundry building up, we have had to move said mountain to our room for a birthday party and then back to the studio because of the stench.

What you couldn't know with just an "update" is that both my older children have been wearing some seriously mismatched clothing as they get further and further to the bottom of their drawers. We have had more than one morning of tears due to the lack of clothes to wear. I am not above making my kid wear his shorts twice. Yes, that was my kid that was stinky. We tried to minimize the laundry done at Aunt Jenny's house to only the necessities.

Certainly, by just a few words in a FB status, you could not know that we have had a comedy of errors in trying to get our washer repaired. Once I had finally convinced Brian this was a big job, we needed to call a repairman, it took him several days to get one out to the house. The repairman came, saw, charged us, and told us to get a new machine. We got a refund. Then Brian decided he was a washing machine repairman and took it apart himself. After taking it apart and finding that the repairman was not exactly right in his quote, Brian decided to repair it himself. One tub broken by Brian, one tub broken by Fed Ex and one tub on back order later, it was a sit and wait kind of situation.

The part finally came, Brian finally had time to fix it. And right now, right at this very moment, there is a washing machine miracle taking place. The miracle is, that after one month of nasty, piling up laundry, we finally have a working washing machine!

Because our family is funnier...

2010-11-14T21:32:00.000-06:00

There is a certain branch of my family that you can trace way back to a handful of '89ers. These '89ers must have been some seriously funny folk because the Heller/Stoner side of my family has that bent for hilarity. I am pretty sure we were born with a specific gene for a dominant funny bone. Individually we are fairly clever people, but get us together and your sides will split before the evening is over.

This weekend was no exception to the family rule. Several generations including second gen '89ers, my mom's generation, and my generation gathered for a cousin's wedding. Her wedding was intimate and exquisite all at once. She was stunning in her ivory gown with her red hair down her back. The ceremony was emotional and personal. The reception was 5 star with good wine flowing. All of these things would have made for a great time. But we Hellers have to twist things up and make them funny. It's what we do.

While discussing how to get to the reception with some of our family, a cousin offers the address portion of her Google Maps print out. Just as we are discussing putting the address into our GPS, my great-aunt (who was a riot before age fogged things up a little) chimes in with her observations. "Well, in our car the radio talks to us and tells us where to go. I keep telling them they better hurry up or she's going to leave us behind." And how do you not laugh out loud at that? The real kicker is when we are walking away, after getting her secured in the talking car, her son mentions, "You ought to see her talk back to the thing." I am laughing out loud right now with that image in my head.

After that they just kept on coming. This same aunt suggested to her granddaughter that she might date that nice looking man right over there - yup, a cousin. My sister and I had been making fun of each other all night suggesting that the other had done something just like our mother (no offense mom, but it was really funny). At the end of the evening my grandfather's cousin remarks on how much my sister looks like my mom. ZING! This particular cousin of my grandfathers is an absolute hoot. I think she spent more time on the dance floor than anyone else and don't ask me why she knew all the words to the hip hop songs. At another point an older wedding guest (not a member of our family, but a notable funny moment) was dancing with a single cousin significantly her junior. The dance was meant for married couples only and I am proud to say that Brian and I were among the last few couples up there based on years married. Someone told her that she was cheating by still dancing. To this she replies, "I'm not a cheater, I'm a cougar!" I die. I wet my pants and I die because this is funny stuff.

So, there were many other moments that had me rolling on the floor (besides the moment that we were actually on the floor looking for the great-aunt's hearing aid - those things are expensive after all), but it would take all night to recount. Literally every second was punctuated with laughter. At the end of the evening the Bride was saying her goodbyes to us and she mentioned that her new husband was so happy that her cousins came. Apparently he thinks we are a lot of fun. He's so in with the family now.

Chimpanzee Mating

2010-11-14T20:25:00.000-06:00

We thought some further investigation was necessary with the recent talk of mating - specifically regarding Reba's Chimpanzee report. Reba informed us that mating is when two chimps get along really well. She says it's like dating. Jacob then chimes in with, "Then they go on a romantic honeymoon." What?!?

Yup, that's the conversation around our dinner table these days.

Sounds like a blog post in the making..

2010-11-10T22:04:00.000-06:00

So many months have passed. So much parenting has occurred. But some things never change. My boy child has a propensity to say very funny one-liners and my girl child doesn't even know why we are laughing.

I called my youngest sister the other day to regale her with my boy's latest blurt when she replied, "Sounds like a blog post in the making." Uh, right. My blog. Sounds like I better dust this old sucker off and boot it up. I've missed you old blog. You are the keeper of my kids' funnies, my parent heartache, my blessings, my creativity, and my honesty. Blog, I have undervalued you. Won't happen again - for a while...

Here are the latest Miller kid funnies:

1)We were at a park for Reba's softball team party. Nearby the pavilion we had rented was a group of Crossfit types doing their thing. As we were leaving Jacob asked me if I had seen them. I replied, yes. He says, "Yeah, you should do that, Mom," in his most 8-year-old sarcastic tone. My 8-year-old told me I needed to work out! He's right, of course, but show your mom some respect, dude.

2)Reba is doing a report on Chimpanzees for school. This has been the source of a couple of funnies. First she told us that the other top reader in her class (Adam) was not even close to being done with his report. She, of course, has typed hers and is ready to present. She told me the other day, "Adam is just holding me back." We laughed pretty hard considering Adam has been in love with Reba since their Pre-K days. Her next announcement about her report came yesterday when she was going over what she would present. "I am NOT talking about mating - there would just be way too many questions that I am not prepared to answer." I died. I am pretty sure she has no idea what mating means.

OK, so maybe those are only funny to us. We are finding humor in the little things these days to keep our spirits up and our minds off of the impending changes. Our 3rd set of amazing foster babies are moving on this week after 5 months with us. We have another awesome story to tell that involves healing, growing, learning, and love. These two precious children will be going to their forever home this weekend if all goes as planned. We are blessed beyond words by their presence in our home. Their absence will leave a hole in our hearts (because they all take some of it when they leave) and some empty beds in our home. We pray for their new family and thank God that we got to be a part of their journey to them.

The Legacy of the Little White Car

2010-07-27T21:27:00.000-05:00

In 2001, when Brian and I were just graduating college and getting married, with not a penny to our names, friends of ours did a hugely generous thing. They gave us their little white car. That was our first Honda Accord - our first car at all that belonged outright to us. We drove that sweet little stick shift for 6 years and loved it. When we moved to Texas, it stayed behind (a tuckered out A/C couldn't hack the TX heat), and we were forever grateful for the years it gave us.

Then, less than a year later, the unimaginable happened. Those same people gave us another little white car, their newer Honda Accord. I kid you not, two Honda Accords, same people. Generous beyond measure, these folks have been family to me since I was in high school. I have been blessed many times over, not just because of the gifts of cars (among other things), but because of my relationship with them. Go on, you can be jealous that I have friends like this. Everyone wishes that they had friends like this. I have learned to knit, quilt, parent, love, accept, cherish, organize, think outside the box, and be generous, many thanks to these people.

Recently it came time in our family to increase our number of seat belts. Since we have had 4 children consistently for almost a year now, we decided it was time to increase capacity. We bought a Honda Odyssey, capacity for 8, and suddenly we had an extra car. What to do, what to do?

In the spirit of our good friends' generosity, we could not simply sell this vehicle. That would not do. It was very clear that the car needed to go to someone that would benefit from the gift as much as we had. It sat in our driveway for a month or so as we looked for who to give it to. Who would be our Sarah and Brian? Then last week, the answer was as clear as day. My cousin and his wife, still considered newlyweds, moved to our area on just a wing and a prayer. He landed a job with a local fire department and she is still looking for a school district with openings for an elementary teacher. A car would make a BIG difference for them. A little white car, in particular, would really fit the bill.

So the Legacy of the Little White Car lives on. We are grateful for the miles it gave us. It has served us well. Thank you, friends, who were so generous to us, you have given us the gift of passing along that generosity. Being able to give the car to someone, just as you had given it to us, has blessed us twice over. Let me assure you, the new owners of the little white car are just as grateful. Look what you have started...

Good Story

2010-06-02T22:19:00.001-05:00

One day in April my sister, Jenny was going out of town - I don't even remember why, but probably for business 'cause she's all important like that, and she asked me to take her dog to the kennel for her. I said, "No prob," which I had said before and forgotten completely about, but this time I meant it. I was up bright and early on the Saturday following Easter weekend. I got my girls up, Reba and our two current foster daughters, dressed them all cute in their matchy outfits they had all gotten for Easter, and headed out in the still cool morning of April 10th. Reba always likes to go along when we take the dogs in to the kennel and I figured that the little girls would love the kennel and the endless supply of affectionate dogs. What possessed me, all before eight on a Saturday morning?

We arrived at the kennel where I saw the owner, Jana, sitting at her desk in the back office. I know Jana. We have had our dogs boarded here before. I have met her sister and her parents and they are all adorable. My sister, Jenny, and I could talk with them for hours swapping animal rescue stories of our youth (ahem, and our adulthood). I wave at Jana, because I don't even know why, and motion for her to come out and meet my girls. She's slightly confused because she can't see Reba, and I am holding the 2-year-old, and how did my kid shrink? So she comes out. We talk briefly about fostering, and the girls, and she asks some very benign question,s and we leave. And if nothing more ever came from that I would not have been surprised at all. But something more came - something I couldn't have even known to hope for or imagine.

Jana called me the next day. My sister's dog was fine. Good, because I was the emergency contact. Whew! But she had some questions about the girls. Jana and her husband were interested in how they might have a shot at adopting them. It's a long shot, I said, hoping it wasn't, but knowing the improbability. I gave her all the info. She was at the agency the next morning, and within 3 days of meeting the girls she and her husband, Dave, were taking classes to become licensed foster to adopt parents. Wow. They might be the only people that have finished their classes and licensing faster than Brian and I. They were able to very quickly provide us with babysitting and take the girls for overnight visits. What a Godsend - literally.

This next part is awesome. Today, June 2, we were in court regarding the girls. The judge, the girls lawyer, the CASA volunteers, and the CPS caseworker all agreed that the children would be placed with our friends, Jana and Dave, with everything looking like they will ultimately get to adopt them. For reals! At the end the judge asked how Jana and Dave came to know the girls. "It's a good story," CPS said. I have to say, it definitely is.

Thanks, Mom

2010-05-09T22:10:00.002-05:00

Mother's Day already? How does this sneak up on me every year? Last year I posted on my fantastic Grandma Lu and earlier this year I posted on my dear Grandma Bette, but I haven't regaled you yet about my amazing Mom, Marie.

Now, if you are the mother of a daughter that looks just like you, and occasionally thinks just like you, and more times than is normal and despite thousands of miles can even feel your feelings, you might understand my relationship with my mom. I looked in the mirror just this morning and saw Mom looking right back at me. Whew, that was weird. Oh, but how grateful I am to have such an awesome mom.

Thank you, Mom, for teaching me the value of children and especially how to love the ornery ones. You had a little plaque that sat in that little niche by the phone (or where the phone used to be back when they had cords and tape recorded answering machines). I don't remember what exactly it said, only that the gist was that children were 100% of our future. That is how you live out every day. You are a visionary, seeing the possibility in every child. Countless children trace back their success to you, the teacher or principal that they had years and years ago. I was privileged to be your student but even more so to be your daughter.

Thank you, Mom, for teaching me love - that friendships and relationships will sometimes end and often hurt, but that not to love in the first place is the real loss. You comforted me through the drama and chaos of middle school, high school, eesh - college (that was a biggie), and then again in motherhood when the greatest thing I would do would be to love and let go. Thank you for knowing the heartache even when my words couldn't express it.

Thank you, Mom, for being the example of an educated woman. I believe it is a testament to you that your three daughters are pursuing Master's Degrees. Education, we learned, equals empowerment. And, well, we are all kinda brilliant and certainly very strong women. Just saying...

Thank you, Mom, for being there every Sunday, teaching us the Word and showing it to us daily by your actions. My faith is strong because my foundation was sure. I appreciate the years of your life you spent sharing Christ's love with children. I appreciate even more the way you lived to show Christ's love to everyone from every background, color, and creed. I believe when all is said and done, He will say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."

Thank you, Mom, for being that slacker mom that didn't do all my laundry (that little cherry chap-stick issue really sealed the deal on that one), didn't make my lunches, let me make dinner when I was in middle school (if you can call sloppy joe Boboli pizza, dinner), let me fail a thousand times, so that I would learn. I love that you gave me that book when I grew up and you realized that I was totally a slacker mom and struggling with my own identity as a woman and a mother and feeling like I might be totally screwing up my kids. But you didn't judge. Oh, thank God it is okay to be a slacker mom.

Thank you, Mom, for all the laughs you provide when you allow us to use you for comic relief (okay you can dish it out too). I will never forget when you told me that if I didn't like the teasing I needed to find another family. My 15-year-old self would never have dreamed in a million years I would ever say that to my kid. But guess what? I did. Also, remember that you wanted us to tell you when you get old and we make fun of you? Though you are definitely not old, I am just saying, be advised, it's happening.

There are many many more things, but really, we could be here all night. So, finally I would like to say thank you, Mom, for showing me how to hold my head high through the tough things in life. You have not failed me, you have only strengthened me. Happy Mother's Day, I love you.

For the love of baseball...

2010-05-07T23:35:00.001-05:00

Believing

2010-05-02T14:53:00.000-05:00

We are believing around here for something big. I believe that each child that comes through our house, be it through birth, friendship, or the foster care system, has a plan from above for good and not for evil. Specifically I believe that the foster children that come through our home will have only positive outcomes and that the courts and CPS will work only to their best benefit.

As you might remember, our last set of kids went on to be placed with their forever family. The sequence of events that led these children to their forever family are too perfect for coincidence and too great for a mere human to have orchestrated. We like to believe that we were chosen to be part of their plan. These children are now lovingly matched with the parents that did not birth them from their womb but truly birthed them from their hearts. We were honored to have been privy to that miracle.

We feel that same powerful force moving in our current children's lives. I prayed when we first got them, for His grace to cover them, and for their forever family to come along. We had the children for approximately 11 days when they met their hopeful forever family. It was a meeting too coincidental to be coincidental and there was an overwhelming sense by the hopeful mother that these were her children. This couple will complete their licensing in record time and now have a developing relationship with our kids (logging many babysitting hours - willingly!). I hope that you, my dear friends and family, will join me in praying that these wonderful people will soon be our girls' forever parents. Oh, if you knew them, you would love them too! (For all you dog people - I know there are many of you, these folks are our friends that own the only dog kennel/doggy daycare that we would ever trust with our four legged family.)

Could it be three weeks already?

2010-03-26T09:58:00.000-05:00

Sheesh, where does the time go? I am not sure how three weeks passed so quickly. I do know that we have been in an upheaval mode since my last post.

Three weeks ago today we knew for sure that our precious S & I would be going to their forever family on March 15. That week we spent doing a whirlwind of preparation. For a couple of kids that came with next to nothing in clothes and one ball for toys, we had to take two car loads of stuff over - and then we still found stuff that they left here. We did therapy, we did many hours of phone preparation with the new family, we did lots of fear calming and behavior dealing with. Seems once S sensed there was a change in the air she was all out of sorts and we saw some behavior regression right before she left. One night that week all four kids were crying for different reasons - the two oldest were crying because the two little crying ones would be leaving. We realized that night how hard this was going to be for all our kids.

When all was said and done our two little ones were placed with their forever home on Friday the 12th and after a tearful "see you later" (because it's not goodbye forever), Brian and I decided that it was a must for us to get out of town and fast. We had loosely been toying with the idea that we really needed to see our grandparents (as in our children's great grandparents) and by late Friday night I had clothes packed and a plan in place to drive to CA. The kids had no idea, our CA family had no idea, and we were giddy with anticipation. Jacob had a baseball game Saturday morning and while the kids and Brian were at the ball game I finished packing and loaded the car. My sister came over after the game and took our lab "puppy" under the rouse that we were picnicking with the other two dogs and it might be late when we got back. The kids didn't question the suitcases in the back of the car and assumed the ice chest was for our picnic. About an hour into our drive we admitted we would be going a little further than the lake for our picnic. Reba was ecstatic, Jacob was beside himself - we had not let him mentally prepare. Our family still didn't know.

24 hours later we were cutting off Brian's dad as he was driving down his street. He didn't look too happy until he realized it was us - which took a minute because what the heck were we doing in CA? We spent the rest of the week surprising the great-grandparents.We got to spend a day with each of our grandparents. It was a special treat. We even were able to be there right over my mom's birthday and she got a great shock when Jacob and Reba showed up in her office the morning of her birthday. CA was a wonderful trip and the perfect medicine for a couple of kids (and parents) missing their foster kids.

This week has been spent just trying to get back to normal. We have been playing baseball, softball, we have been working, cleaning house, and noticing how dreadfully quiet it is around here. The last two weeks with only our two kids gave us just enough time to realize how big our kids have gotten. It helped us appreciate how darn funny Jacob is and how sweet and responsible Reba is. This time has been just enough that when we got the call two nights ago for two more kids we said YES almost immediately.

So, now our adventure begins again. Two more kids, a 9 month-old and a 2 year-old, and the second go round has been just as fun as the first. We are thrilled to have babies in our house once again. The two older kids are thoroughly enjoying their big brother/sister rolls and Mommy and Daddy are remembering (after a nice long vacation) what sleep deprivation feels like.

The Best and Hardest Day as a Foster Parent

2010-03-05T20:53:00.000-06:00

I have the most amazing foster children. Along with my biological children, they are the reason I believe I was put on this earth. They came to us broken, abused, and neglected. They will be leaving us whole.

"S", though sometimes a typical 3-year-old, challenging her parents and talking back, is a joy. When she came to us, she was a foul mouthed kid with no boundaries and teeth rotting out of her head. Today she is bright and energetic. She learned how to use a computer and PBSkids.org is her favorite website. She loves puzzles and can complete them on her own. She is inquisitive. Her favorite thing in the entire world is to be read to. She is empathetic. She has a knack for complimenting. And I love her. From September 15 until March 15, I am her mommy. It has been an honor.

"I" came to us as a baby with a blank stare. He rarely laughed and barely ever made a noise - good or bad. He had not spoken his first word. He could crawl, but at 30 pounds and almost 1, he could not walk. Today he is a child of many expressions. His laugh is contagious. He says "Momma, Daddy, uh oh," and most importantly, "Dog." He runs, chasing all of us around the big circle in the house. He is incredibly smart and likes to carry around a stool to reach all of those forbidden places. He can point to his shoes, his head, his nose, his ears, and his mouth. His best friend is a 60 pound yellow lab. His eyes light up when you walk in the room. And I love him. From September 15 until March 15, I am his mommy. It has been an honor.

Today we learned that they will move on to a wonderful family. It is what we had hoped and prayed for. We are blessed to have their new parents as friends - or something closer (it's an unexplainable relationship). Once I talked to this family about the possibility of being our kids' forever home, I knew with certainty that everything would be okay. God had a hand in this from the beginning. We were meant to be "S&I's" foster parents just as they were meant to be their forever parents. I wanted these children forever. I begged God and Brian and they both said, "No." I was crushed and despondent then, but of course, this was the plan all along.

Brian and I will continue to foster. It is our mission. This is what we were supposed to do. We see that more clearly now than ever. However, I will never stop loving these first two. They hold a special place in my heart. So today, as we learned "officially" that our kids would be moving on, it has been absolutely the best and the hardest day as a foster parent.

Here's the thing about Second Graders

2010-03-03T22:23:00.000-06:00

They are so gosh darn funny. I had the privilege of being home yesterday as my big kids came home from school (not typical for this working mama). The way they come in the door is so indicative of their personalities. Reba comes home, neatly hangs up her backpack, promptly takes out her lunch box and deposits it in the proper place, and immediately takes out her folder which no doubt contains some piece of pressing news that she will not forget to tell us. So. Reba. Jacob comes home, I swear, tires on the scooter squealing, top speed straight into the house, scooter likely dropped at the door, running like a banshee, shedding backpack in the middle of the floor right outside of the bathroom, which he enters with his helmet still on. I laughed out loud as I realized what kind of scene every afternoon must be for their father. They both, apparently, do this every afternoon.

This evening Brian and I were chuckling about it to ourselves in the front seat on our way out to dinner (a rare treat but we needed to get out of the house since one of our little one's has been sick and is finally feeling a bit better). Jacob, chiming in from the back, yells, "What? I can't take any chances!" That darn kid is hysterical. The vision of him sitting on the pot with his bike helmet on has me doubled over laughing all over again.

Jacob, you may not have a baby book, but at least your mama has a blog so she can write all these fabulously embarrassing things down for posterity. I am pretty sure you will thank me someday. You're welcome, son.

I Heart Faces Challenge #9: "Hillarious Outtakes"

2010-03-01T21:44:00.000-06:00

This was from Reba's birthday party. Note the look on her face and the fact that this child is not Reba attempting to open Reba's present. I love it. So classic for this child.

The Boy Strikes Again

2010-02-26T22:31:00.000-06:00

But not literally - he actually hit very well tonight. Baseball season has officially begun. We are back at the fields for another round of Live and Breathe Baseball and Softball for the Spring. Ah, don't you just love it? I am particularly fond of freezing my rear off on the metal bleachers. Also one of my favorite things is red baseball mud tracked into the house on the bottom of cleats. Ah, I digress. The reality is that I love baseball season especially because of the families that we play with. We have played with most of these folks for almost 3 years and many of them have become our extended family.

Thank goodness this group is understanding and family like, because sometimes my funny boy can say some doozies. Tonight he comes over in front of the bleachers and all the parents wearing his catcher's gear (his favorite position). He proceeds to show us all the chest guard part of the gear and demonstrate what the flap hanging down is for. Swinging it back and forth he announces, "It's the PEEPER FLAP MOM!" Ah, yes, son, that is designed to protect your peeper. If I wasn't certain my fellow baseball parents thought this was absolutely hysterical, I would have been more embarrassed. I wish I had a picture of him in his gear - maybe next time. We can educate you all on the various pieces of gear and what they are meant to protect.

"Pitch White"

2010-02-24T22:19:00.000-06:00

If you haven't already heard, let me inform you: Central Texas got SNOW yesterday!! Yes, right here in the Austin area we were graced by the white stuff. It snowed several inches and stuck, which I have never seen here - ever (which means the 2.5 years we have lived here, it hasn't snowed). Anyway, it was quite a sight. We did not have a snow day (what the heck?), but we did get a two hour delay of school today. Most of the parents at my school came and picked up their kids early yesterday to go home and enjoy the crazy day. My poor children had to wait until after school to commence frolicking about in the snow. Jacob announced when he came home, "It's pitch white out there!" I love when kids mess up old sayings. It cracks me up. But seriously, snow in Central Texas? It was awesome!

Fishes and Loaves

2010-02-22T22:32:00.000-06:00

Remember that story about the fishes and loaves and feeding like 5000 (not including the women and children - if I were a Gospel writer I totally would have included them, because, hello, we count)? Remember how they had just a teeny bit of food to feed all those folks, but they collected what they had and Jesus worked a miracle to multiply what they had? I am just gonna say that He still works those kind of miracles.

I hesitate to tell this story because, 1. It's pretty personal, 2. I don't want y'all to freak out, 3. I don't want y'all to think I am looking for handouts, 4. You need to know we are all okay and were never at risk for starving - if we were, we would have asked for help. But, I am going to tell it anyway, because sometimes, I just have to report on how good God is.

At the beginning of February we had $41 in our checking account. That was it. $41 and no anticipated income until, at the earliest, today's date. We were smart and we put what we needed aside for one big bill in savings. But we still only had $41. That was supposed to cover groceries, gas, and whatever else might come up. And things come up. Believe me.

We had $41 for three birthdays. Mine, Brian's, and Reba's. Brian and I can do without, a six-year-old needs a birthday party and presents.

We had $41 for 3 weeks of gas (we usually fill up each car once a week). I commute 35 minutes every day one way. We needed gas almost immediately. Of course.

$41 for groceries for 6 people for almost a month. We did have fish sticks. No bread.

As of this morning we had 42 cents. We. Made. It. I deposited a paycheck tonight.

How did we make it? He did it. It could only have been Him.

We sold a table that we didn't need anymore to our friends who just happened to notice we had an extra table because they were at the house for a totally different reason. Check gas for the month.

Brian and I each had birthday money from parents and grandparents (thanks, guys). Check Reba's birthday (fairy party, school party, and birthday dinner out).

Fish sticks or not, we somehow made it with the food we had in our pantry and freezer. Sometimes I am a genius with random food that we have on hand. Our. Fridge. Is. Empty. But we are full.

We have managed extras like a classmate's birthday party (handmade gift), the darn tooth fairy (would the kid just keep her teeth until we have some money?), a well check co-pay for the birthday girl (and ears pierced because we promised), diapers - wait, that's a regular occurrence, it just surprised us, and softball equipment (generously bankrolled by Aunt Jenny, our team's new sponsor). 42 cents. Seriously.

We didn't feed the masses, nor did we end up with much left over, but I will chalk it up to a miracle that we are still standing in the black. There are many good things on the horizon. Don't send donations yet. Brian's business is looking very promising, my paycheck is coming in, our refund is on its way. We will be better than okay. Sometimes it just takes months like this to remind us that when we end, He begins.

My Boy

2010-02-20T22:00:00.002-06:00

I love this boy. He is my funny kid. As a second grader he is full of jokes, riddles, and a mouth of unruly teeth. First of all, he is all boy, but he surprises us every other minute. The other day he and his best friend "Jake" (yes, Jacob and Jake are best friends) were watching an Olympic medal ceremony. Jacob exclaims that it is "so romantic!" Brian, wondering what he is talking about, questions Jacob. It was the women's skiing medal ceremony and Jacob pointed out that they were given flowers and the men kissed the women's hands. Oh, how romantic... Where did he even get that word?

Fast forward to last night. We were watching the Olympics - again, and Jacob is getting impatient waiting for his favorite event. We happened to be watching my favorite event, Giant Slalum (um, hello, Aksel) and Jacob was antsy to get to ICE DANCING! What the heck? He loves those skaters.

The funniest moment yet came when Bob Costas appeared on the screen for the umpteenth time and Jacob says, "I'm getting sick of this guy. Who is he anyway? He speaks like every 10 minutes." Uh, yep. About every 10 minutes up pops Bob Costas. Brian agreed. It was way better when Katie Couric reported on the Olympics. Oh, boy.

Why you shouldn't groom your own dog and other ramblings...

2010-02-18T21:00:00.000-06:00

First of all, yesterday was Brian's birthday which should explain why I didn't post - except, really it doesn't. We officially did nothing for his birthday. After experiencing a slight cash flow issue (as in, it doesn't seem to be flowing in at all) we decided to clamp down on all spending. I did splurge and spend the $6.95 at Starbucks for his peppermint syrup that he loves for his coffee, but going out was absolutely out of the question. Since he scheduled softball practice for last night (being the head coach and all) we also didn't exactly have time for dinner. So, we quick fed the kids, headed off in 10 different directions, and met back up in the late evening for my sister to come over and make malts. If you are not a member of my family, you need to know, malts are tradition, a classic dessert item, cherished by all, and made popular in our family by my grandpa (who knew just the right combo of ice cream, chocolate malt, and milk).

After malts, which apparently was going to actually be our dinner since we never got around to real food, we sat around the couches to just chill and muse about what it was like to be old. Then it happened. Brian got a bee in his bonnet to trim the dog. (It was probably because of my post from a few days ago.) He got out the clippers (human hair clippers) and guards and proceeded to attempt his hand at grooming.

There are reasons why we have paid a groomer upwards of $30 in the past to beautify our Little Dog. #1: He's an ugly little dog, it takes a professional. #2: His hair is strangely thick and wiry on top - you should use dog clippers. #3: They bathe him. #4: He is an ugly little dog. Seriously. Our final product may look only slightly better than what we started with. Yikes! As I said to the groomer the last time (when we had money to do things like that), "He's an ugly little dog, if I get him back an ugly little dog, I won't be disappointed."

Zoo

2010-02-15T11:34:00.002-06:00

When I was a child I lived in what I believed was a typical suburban home. I have since learned that we were anything but typical and everything exceptional. Some of my fondest memories (also some of my most embarrassing memories) include our menagerie of pets. At one time we had 3 dogs, 3 cats, a rabbit, and a gerbil. I would like to report that I am much more conservative in my pet adoptions as an adult - but I know I am beginning to border on ridiculous. Check out our latest addition (bottom) - a gift for Reba's birthday.

King Tut, the best dog ever.

Bailey Jane, the most destructive dog ever (but soooo cute).

Little Dog, the ugliest dog ever (partly my fault - he needs groomed).

Cleopatra "Cleo", the cat. She stares at closed doors - it's weird.

Travis, the hamster. Our newest addition. Reba's baby.

And yes, he/she (we aren't sure) is sitting on top of Mommy's desk right now. Am I crazy?

My Valentine

2010-02-14T21:13:00.000-06:00

The second best Valentine I have ever received:

She kills me, that girl. This sentiment is so sweet, almost as good as the one my sister gave my mom more than 15 years ago. "Mom, I love you more than my bed." If you knew my little sister...

Oh, yeah - the best? She came a day early (which was really 4 days late - since she was actually due on my birthday).

Fairytabulous!

2010-02-13T20:43:00.002-06:00

My baby is 6! We told her she was not allowed to turn 6. We even tried to cancel her birthday - but February 13th came around anyway. So, we did what any good parents would do, we threw her a Fairy Birthday Party.

All the girls were to come in their Fairy Best - minus the accessories because we would provide those. We spent the afternoon crafting wings and wands. The wings are two pieces of 12x18 stiff felt cut into wing shape, sewn together, with elastic also sewn in for arms. They were decorated with foam stickers, pom poms, glitter fabric spray, tool, ribbons, and the occasional sharpie (all with the help of a few moms and hot glue guns). The wands are wooden dowels with foam stars on the top. One little girl had only done the basic foam star and wooden dowel wand. She handed it to her mother and asked "for an upgrade" meaning she wanted ribbons on that too. The finishing touch was "Fairy Dust" that we sprinkled on everyone. All I can say is, the Head Fairy is tired.

Valentines

2010-02-11T21:39:00.000-06:00

Because store bought Valentines are just not as nice... I totally stole this scarf idea from here. The kids were super excited about this. Who wouldn't want a little red scarf (that used to be a red fleece throw from Ikea)? Spent only $10 on Valentines this year, too (for four kids worth of classes). Sometimes my creative genius (even when ripping it off from somewhere else) astounds me.

When it rains, it pours

2010-02-10T20:54:00.000-06:00

It is true that we have been experiencing inclement weather across the country these last weeks, but I am talking about blessings here. Besides all of my birthday wishes (which I treasured, y'all) today has been an incredible day. First of all, you all know my love for sewing. I make no bones about the fact that my Bernina and I have a very close relationship. Quilting has been known to keep me sane at times. I love to think them up (because Lord knows I can't follow a pattern), make them, and then lovingly give them away. This week, while discussing with a friend how I wanted to make a quilt to auction for Relay For Life donations, she mentioned her sister was interested in passing along some quilting items. We both were thinking it might be some fabric or some simple notions, but no. Oh, no.

Today I got an email from my friend's sister. She wants to GIVE me her Gracie quilting frame and her PC Quilter. I kid you not. Okay for everyone that doesn't sew or quilt or have a clue what the Gracie and PCQ are, they are stinking super cool (and not so cheap) machines to help make those awesome patterns you see sewn into the "quilting" part of a quilt. Get it now? This is serious stuff here. This is what will take my quilting to the NEXT level (really like 10 levels up - who are we kidding?). I am blown away. Her generosity astounds me. This world is a good and loving place.

Next (as if all that weren't enough), my precious babies (foster) will soon be moving to a more permanent home. This is a good thing but also a seriously heart breaking process. I want them. I want them forever. But that is not what we agreed to and that is not part of God's plan for us. I have been tormented by the fear of them leaving. If I talk about it, I get emotional, and my voice comes out all squeaky. My mom was right; I don't know how to love but to love completely. Today, out of the blue, I got a call from a potential adoptive parent. She's the one I was hoping and praying for. Their family is interested and I am praying hard that this is the right thing for them and for our kids. I feel like God is showing me that He will still be taking care of these babies and as tough as this is I am excited at the possibility.

Now, if only I could get the weather to cooperate and give us a late start to school tomorrow. That would really be a blessing!

31 is good

2010-02-09T22:29:00.000-06:00

Y'all, 31 is good. Lunch with Brian at an actual restaurant without our 4 kids. Missed a major poo-saster (that a very sweet teacher and lovely secretary cleaned up themselves) at school while I was gone to lunch and no one called me to come back for it. Felt like I did my job as a "nurse" assisting a teacher with health concerns. Came home to eat a wonderful dinner prepared by my sister. Went to Bible study with a dear friend. Was blessed by sleeping children and a loving husband when I got home. Had over 50 messages wishing me "Happy Birthday" from friends old and new. My cup runneth over, big time.

We Heart Kisses Photo Challenge - Week 6

2010-02-08T22:08:00.000-06:00

Because this picture was too good to not enter. This was taken at a wedding this past June. The happy couple announced their engagement this fall.

Check out the other "Kisses" at:

My 30th Year

2010-02-08T20:41:00.000-06:00

What some may characterize as a critical of coming of age year (it gets older every generation), I felt as though my 30th year was less about coming of age and more about celebrating life.

30 meant:

Becoming parents on another level.
Re-examining our work life.
Re-organizing our priorities.
Opening our home to friends and children.
Following our dreams.
Knowing who our friends are.
Knowing what our limits are.
Challenging our faith.
Challenging our sanity.
Acing, like 99% acing, my first graduate course.
Realizing potential.
Understanding heart break.
Witnessing miracles.
Celebrating love.
Walking with each other in love.
Watching heroes fall.
Forgiveness.
10+ pounds that came out of nowhere and landed on my waist.
Realizing that I was only human.
Leaving a job that I really loved.
Commitment.
Bernina.
Nikon.
Drinking lots of coffee.
Learning to drink a little less coffee.
Driving grown up cars.
Accepting and loving baldness (Brian's, not mine).
Challenging ourselves (Game On! among many other more important things).
Giving Thanks.
Receiving Grace.

30 was not what I expected. I loved harder, hurt more, and received more Grace than I had ever before in my life. 30 really was an epic year for me. I look forward to 31 - I think...

Bible Coffee Holder Bag

2010-02-07T22:15:00.001-06:00

Don't be jealous. You know you want one too. This was all my husband's genius. The above pictured bag was based purely out of need. Let me explain. We started going to a church where you actually had to bring your Bible with you every week - and, uh, use it. No kidding. This new church also has this deal called the casual venue where you can be in church but without all the "liturgy" (that's church speak for "old churchy stuff"), you can dress in your jeans, and if you really wanted to, you could sit around a table and drink your morning coffee during worship. Now, we worship, we sing, we listen to a good sermon every week, so don't be thinking I went all "weak church" on you here. "Casual" just implies the ambiance of the setting. I digress.

Anyway, so at this new church we began toting back and forth our Bibles and our two coffee mugs (spill free, of course). This became quite an ordeal when you have four kids ages seven and under. Brian and I would begin doling out our coffees for the kids to carry and then trying to make sure we got it all back as we delivered all four to Sunday School. From the beginning Brian was prodding me to make him a "Bible Coffee Holder Bag". I laughed. He did not. So this is the result: a tote like bag with a sleeve for the big Bible and two elastic loops to hold our coffee upright. There is then space for a second Bible or all the things that the kids bring home from Sunday school. We are two Sundays into carrying this and so far, so good. Brian calls this Prototype #1. Apparently he feels there are still some tweaks we could make.

Boots

2010-02-06T22:09:00.000-06:00

Can you even be Texan without boots? I don't think so. So, after the destructo dog ate my beloved pair of butterfly boots, I was left with a sort of identity crisis. Am I just another impostor implant to this beautiful place? Would they find me out by my improper footwear? After a long delay, the situation was finally remedied tonight.

My dear sisters (because they are wonderful to their big sister and they know me well) got me gift cards to Cavender's for Christmas this year. For some reason, tonight, it became urgent that I purchase a pair of boots. Perhaps it was the posse narrowing in on my lack of sanctioned shoes, or it could have been my dearth of good church appropriate kicks. Maybe it was that I just really wanted boots and since my birthday is on Tuesday I decided to get 'er done. Whatever it was, I got my boots. Check 'em out.

In a mood.

2010-02-04T20:37:00.001-06:00

It's a don't cross me, I will bite your head off, kind of night for me. I have very few of them. Really, I am being serious. Ordinarily I am very even tempered. But tonight, no way. I got on the elliptical to work out my frustration (get it, work out as in workout, never mind). I burned more calories in 20 minutes than I ever had before by like 50 calories. Um, yeah.

The cat just looked at me and I hissed at her. I am not proud. I'm going to bed and praying for a new day.

It was very important - the Girl Scouts were at the door.

2010-02-03T20:03:00.003-06:00

Last week sometime Jacob (age 7) was on the phone with my mom (Queen Ree). They were chatting away, Jacob pacing in his normal fashion when he talks on the phone, when suddenly the conversation stopped. Jacob said an abrupt goodbye and returned the phone to the base. I must have looked puzzled so he decided to explain, "It was important, Mom. She had to go. The Girl Scouts were at the door." I questioned why that would be so important. "Because they have cookies, Mom! And those things are good!"

Pardon my stupidity, child. Clearly I have not grasped the importance of the Girl Scout Cookie. Really, what the boy doesn't know, is that I have long understood the power of the Girl Scout Cookie. I was a Girl Scout once - Troop 14 in the San Gabriel District. We went defunct by the time we were all in the 7th grade, but never mind that. I failed at cookie sales. My mom would buy a couple of cases so that I could, at the very least, earn my stupid badge.

Those cases didn't last long in our house. We could devour sleeve after sleeve of Thin Mints in one sitting (or standing, because who sits when eating a sleeve of Thin Mints?). We would finish our cases by, oh, a couple weeks out of cookie season. If my mom was really smart she would hide a couple of boxes in the deep freeze - but once discovered, those were demolished too. Invariably, just as the last cookie was polished off, my dad would be standing there, proclaiming that he "didn't get any of that!" You snooze you lose, Old Man. Girl Scout Cookies were fair game in our house.

This brings me to my adult home. Stupid Game On! has me rationing my Thin Mints to 2 a day (allowed by the 100 calories of anything rule) and I have managed to stick with this plan. My husband (who like my dad would wait until all cookies were gone to decide he was going to partake) has a different approach (see photo above). Stupid man. Like labeling your box keeps people from actually eating it. These are Girl Scout Cookies, and "those things are good!"

I made a commitment

2010-02-02T23:01:00.001-06:00

I made a commitment right here on this blog that I was going to write everyday for a while until I found my creative sweet spot again. Little by little I feel the fog lifting and that thing inside of me reigniting. I don't have much to say tonight - I will probably be able to put it together better tomorrow. I promise a post on whatever it is I'm not posting on today. But since I made that commitment to you, me, and well, to my Game On! team (and you know how I hate to lose), I needed to write just a little something.

Oh, shoot, I have to go to bed immediately - I am about to lose my sleep points for this darn game. Gotta go, I'll catch up tomorrow.

P.S. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the beautiful comments yesterday. I am truly touched.

Fostering

2010-02-01T20:01:00.001-06:00

The hardest part about being a foster parent is not what most people think of. Sure, dealing with tantrums, bizarre behaviors left over from a abused or neglected former life, hearing horrible words shouted at you only because they are scared, frustrated, and scarred, sucks. But I can take that part of it. What kills me and eats me up inside is loving, healing, molding, and mending these children and then giving them back or giving them away to another family.

These children have become my babies. They have been part of my family for these last 5 months. They are my other children's siblings. They are our parents' other grandchildren. They are my sisters' other niece and nephew. How do they un-become mine? Is it pride that tells me that I am the best Mommy they will have - that I know them and can offer them the best life possible?

We aren't there yet, thank goodness, but it's coming. I know it's coming. And I am not looking forward to it.

And as if the dagger wasn't already sticking out of my chest, it twists at the toughest times. Last night the 3-year-old and I were doing her school project together. She was answering questions like "What's your favorite thing to do?" and "What is your favorite place?" We got to the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" She answers, "A mommy, like you." Oh, my heart can't take much more.

Her Mighty Throne

2010-01-31T17:01:00.000-06:00

Not the toilet, get your minds out of the gutter - oh, was I the only one thinking that? I am talking about my grandmother's chair. This is the chair which supported the backside of the matriarch of our family while she did things like sew six granddaughters matching Christmas dresses, or my cousins' first communion gowns, or jackets that went with our prom dresses, or hem oodles of choir robes.

She was kind of amazing on the sewing machine - not because of intricacy but because of practicality. She could make almost anything that was needed. My mom tells stories of her brothers and dad dressed in matching dress shirts that Grandma had made. There is a photo of my uncle dressed in a little man suit that Grandma had made out of Grandpa's old one. She was re-purposing long before it was hip. Oh, Grandma, you clever woman, you.

Sometime in the 1970s my grandmother received, as a gift from my mother, this glorious chair. This particular chair is a sewist's dream. Originally it had quite a cushion and the seat flips up to reveal a compartment for stowing all your notions. Need a button? Look in your chair. Broke a needle? Look in your chair. Measuring tape? Chair. And though I am seldom organized, I love the idea of organization like this. Everything you need right under your butt!

Moving to my own sewing space I found that I didn't have the advantage of the chairs I used at the dining room table. Since I haven't mastered sewing standing up, I set out to look for a sewing chair. I thought about Grandma's chair and where I might get one of those, and it dawned on me, uh, ask Grandma for hers. This would be huge! To have Grandma's chair here - a little piece of her (ADDers frequently assign serious sentimentality to things). She was happy to pass down the chair to me, sending it along with my Mom when she road tripped to TX at Christmas. And here I sit, in Grandma's chair, making it my backside now that is firmly placed on the sewing throne.

(A P.S. on the over-sentimentalizing things: I don't over sentimentalize dates as I noted in a previous post - usually because for ADD mind time is categorized as "now" or "not now" therefore negating a reason to sentimentalize it. However, THINGS! Oh things, how you get us in trouble. Usually things remind us of a person and if we got rid of the thing it would be like getting rid of that loved one. We are worried we will forget them without a physical reminder - just like we forget our wallets, keys, gift card for the store we are going to, diaper bags, checkbook, phone, or anything else we might daily misplace. I am glad to report that I still have my Grandma so if I want to remember her I could just go visit. But having her chair was something I thought about for a long time because I knew if I received it, I would keep it forever.)

Unfinished Business

2010-01-29T21:25:00.000-06:00

This is my workspace in my fabulous sewing room. I realize the desk is a mess, don't judge. This is not what we are discussing today anyway.

When I moved up to the guest room for my full time sewing space I had the pleasure of going through all of my sewing things. What I discovered was a plethora of projects I had almost finished. I actually found 5 bibs for a boy - made long before I even had our bib wearing boy - that only needed snaps. I found blankets I finished but didn't give away. I found pot holders I had quilted but never bound. I found jammy pants that I had cut out but never made up. I found two pairs of shorts for the big boy that only needed a bottom hem and elastic put in. This is the way I roll, people. Lots of awesomeness, mostly unfinished.

Currently I have two major projects that I got almost all of the way through and then left for the "Sarah Miller black hole of unfinished projects". One is a quilt for my in-laws and another is a quilt for my sister-in-law, both were intended as Christmas presents. Uh, Happy Valentine's Day? I hope...

My goal is to finish - completely finish these two projects this weekend. Those with ADD can relate - things rarely get finished when your brain changes channels too often. By the time I get almost all the way done with something, I am bored. The last few details are painful to complete. This is why my most complicated and beautiful quilts are often given away with tiny threads to be trimmed. My dear sister, thank goodness, understands this and gratefully trims her own threads. Perhaps these two quilts will be given away with the same caveat. You will receive something handmade and heartfelt from me, if you are willing to trim your own threads. Work with me, here.

Game On! Progress

2010-01-28T20:02:00.001-06:00

I am totally rocking the Game On! diet. I have had mostly 100 point days, which is the best you can have. The only thing I didn't rock so much is the whole lose tons of weight thing. I lost a pound. A pound. Really. Whatever. My teammates are attempting to convince me that it will all magically shed this week. They had better be right.

The best part about this whole Game On! thing is that you play against your friends and there is this trash talk element that I thrive on. Competitiveness is coursing through my veins and these PTA moms are all like, "No big deal, tomorrow is a new day, you can do it, rah rah rah." So today when the enemy was talking about her completely bad habit day and the other ladies were all, "Oh, you can do it," I sent out an email. It read, "And this is why we will win! Love ya, suckers!!" I was so proud of myself. That is what this is all about, right? COMPETITION. I mean it even says that this is how the game is played in the book!

Uh, I am thinking that the PTA moms were a little put off by this. Another, "You can do it!" email followed that one about how we all win, blah blah, blah. Um, no, we do not all win. Yes, there is that whole, "You are a better person now," thing. But really in a game like this, there is only one winner. And in this case, it's going to be me.

Yee Haw!

2010-01-27T20:58:00.000-06:00

Don't you wish you had a cowboy? I took this stunning picture (edited by the cowboy himself) during our fall visit up to West Texas where my cousins own a farm. Besides, of course, the wedding which we were there to attend, the horses were the hit of the weekend. Each of the kids got on a horse even though Jacob initially protested with howling that rivaled coyotes. The girls shared a horse, delighted with these giant four legged creatures, they laughed and held on tight the entire time - hair blowing in the breeze. I had visions of equestrian lessons in our near future. The baby even took a short ride with his sister. My horse sat in park for almost the entire time. Apparently he was crushing on the horse that was tied up. The love of a horse is no match for my reigns.

The absolute shocker of the entire trip was my husband. This is the man that swore up and down that he was terrified of horses - hated them, in fact. He was absolutely not going to ride. At some point I gave up on getting my horse out of park and went inside. I came out to discover the man was doing barrel runs! And the pole thingies, what are those called? I don't know because my horse sat in park, remember? Anyhow, the point is, my husband can ride. What the heck? I know we moved to Texas and all, but when did he go all cowboy on me? Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Cowboy suits him. Just check out the hat!

Complacency

2010-01-26T22:10:00.001-06:00

That word keeps weighing on my heart. Complacency. I had to go to ole' Mr Webster (via Google - of course) to get the definition as I felt a little hazy on the actual meaning.

Main Entry: com·pla·cen·cy

Pronunciation: \-s^ən(t)-sē\

Function: noun

Inflected Form(s): plural com·pla·cen·cies

Date: 1650

1 : self-satisfaction especially when accompanied by unawareness of actual dangers or deficiencies
2 : an instance of complacency

Uh huh. Still not too sure about that. Checking myself. Have I become complacent? Surely my unawareness is a sign.

Exercise

2010-01-25T22:23:00.000-06:00

Well, that's an unpopular post title. But that is exactly what I have been doing since I started that Game On! diet. I will not be bested by the PTA moms! So, I have been faithfully on my elliptical every night this week. The first night was alright. The second night was killer. The third night was ridiculous and I was positive that this crack pot diet business was going to kill me. By tonight (a good 6 days into the game) I actually was eager to get on the machine.... I know, it stunned me too.

After all of my body's initial protesting, I found I was actually craving the movement. I had forgotten what it felt like to push myself - granted there is a whole lot more of me these days to push - but in the end I felt accomplishment. My sore muscles are a sign to me that I did something good for me, not a warning to never do such an idiotic thing again. You know what this means? Crap! It means I should keep exercising.

I am only going to mention as a P.S. here that I used to (as in way way long ago) run a minimum of 3 miles daily just to feel normal. As I began to know myself better and ultimately get a diagnosis of ADHD I realized that this exercise in my high-school years is what kept me focused. The times I did best in school were when I was running and playing at least one other sport. Perhaps my rekindled love affair with exercise will also help me regain my brain. Hey, it's worth a shot. I'll let you know how that goes. I am also wondering if exercise will help me keep my house clean and do all my unfinished projects too. Asking too much?

The letter

2010-01-23T20:47:00.004-06:00

My paternal grandmother was nothing short of a Renaissance woman. She was athletic, playing golf (and usually beating the men - pre-Women's PGA) and bowling. She was a great cook. She was a gifted artist, usually trying one medium after another, brilliant in whatever she attempted. I still keep a knitted blanket made by her on rocking chair in my room. She sewed, painted china, made dolls, and ultimately she sculpted, a craft that allowed us to finally really know her.

About the time I was in middle school my sisters and I started going to grandma's house for craft hour. We would paint pre-made figurines and she would fire them in her kiln. As we got older we started working with clay and making our own sculptures. Her sculptures were clearly more refined than ours but she had a gift for making us feel like we were brilliant artists as well. We would drink fruit punch, eat frozen pound cake, and she would listen to our stories. I can still picture her hands and her wrists - always wearing a bracelet. They were not unlike my own wrists - not skinny, like my sister's.

At some point during this time Grandma started experiencing health problems - mysterious symptoms that put her through test after test after test. The final miserable reality was that Grandma had ALS - better known as Lou Gehrig's disease. Tuesdays With Morrie paints a vivid picture of what dying from ALS is like. Though her body began to fail her, her mind was still in tact. Within, what I remember as about two years from the onset of symptoms, she was gone. Poof. I was sixteen. She was sixty two.

Today, nearly fifteen years later, cleaning my room and going through an old journal, I happened upon an envelope addressed in script to "Sarah". Deep breath. The letter.

My Dear Sarah,
My first perfect granddaughter. How I've loved you from the first day of your life. I'm so proud of you. You have given me so much joy.

Keep on enjoying your art and your sports. The more things you have fun doing the better life is.

I'll be going away on a trip but will be with you always.

Love you,
Grandma Bette

Her handwriting was already labored by the time she wrote this. It was her only means of communication at that point. Her voice was gone and her face couldn't show any expression. Her written words move me to tears to this day. If only everyone had the forethought or time to write a letter like this.

The grief is still there. The pain is still real. We lost her too young. But lately I have been thinking of her - and reading the letter again heals me a little more.

For my other incredible grandmother see here.

Dog Febreze

2010-01-22T22:27:00.002-06:00

Last night after writing about my poop head dog, I posted on facebook the question, "Can you Febreze a dog?" I got many responses on that topic so I am thinking that this must be a common need. Is there such a product? One of my FB friends thought there was something on the market already. (If so, I am buying it immediately, if not sooner.) Others had good suggestions, "Just try a small tester area first. Lol like you do on furniture."Excellent suggestion. Here's another, "I think you can febreeze anything, right???" I also liked this one, though not related to dogs, "Delvin wanted to febreze Patrick in the beginning b/c he was scared of bathing him." Patrick is their 3 month old child.

One of my blogging friends who has four legged children as well thinks, "NO." But my cousin who works for the vet admitted that she does this "all the time." Still in a quandary, I sought the help of ye ole' Mr. Google. So far, so good. Snopes said the email that circulated about 10 years ago about Febreze being harmful to pets was false. ASPA claims that it should not harm the animal. Good Dog! magazine reports that the formula was tested and the evidence suggests that it is safe for use around animals. I found several other personal blogs that have posts written on febrezing their dogs. Apparently all dogs are still healthy and smell decidedly more fresh.

I don't doubt the effectiveness of Febreze. If that stuff could take the "Chili's Funk" out of my clothes when I used to waitress there in college, then it can take any odor away. I am not sure if "Chili's Funk" and "barn poop head" are equal, but something's got to give here. Perhaps I will do as my friend suggests and just try a little tester area first... Then I am going to market a new product, "Furbreze." I am a genius.

Poop Head

2010-01-21T19:20:00.003-06:00

The dog smells like poop. Not just any poop - nostril offending"barn-like" poop. That's what our 12 y.o. friend told us this evening. I totally washed her last night due to the odor. She smelled better for at least 24 hours and then smell that induces my gag reflex was back. Mostly her head stinks - which is the worst because where do you pet a dog? On her poop head.

P.S. Don't judge me on my white balance -I am relearning all that photography stuff.

What if?

2010-01-20T19:48:00.002-06:00

What if someone came to your house and literally looked in every cupboard, every closet, every drawer, your medicine cabinet, your pantry, your refrigerator, your garage, your backyard, each kid's room, even the attic, and saw all your stuff? Worried? Hiding something?

We were lucky enough to have this experience today. You want to know what's even better, today was just a practice run, someone else comes next week to do this again. Thankfully today's inspector was the director of our foster agency coming to do a once over before CPS licensing comes to do a spot check on us. The woman was very graceful about my complete mess of a house, but that did not take away the shame I was feeling as I opened the door to yet another disaster of a room/closet/bathroom. I promised her that we would have the clean fairies come before CPS actually got here. She gently agreed that would be a good idea.

I know that opening every closet door shouldn't make me shudder with embarrassment. I realize that most people put their Christmas decorations away before Valentine's Day - I am just not one of those people. I openly (not proudly) admit that. So, how's a person to change? After 30 years of being a slob could I suddenly become tidy? Should a I pray for a miracle?

I will say one thing, the woman opened my fabric closet and was very impressed. Yes, people, I have one organized closet in my whole house. It's my secret clean spot that I can go when I am overwhelmed by 6 people's stinky laundry, undone dishes in the sink flowing out onto the counter, piles of shed dog hair in the corners of all rooms, I can hide in my fabric. Bliss...

Game On!

2010-01-19T19:39:00.003-06:00

At some point this year I woke up to the reality that everything in Texas really is bigger and this includes me, apparently. In the last two and a half years of living in Texas I have gained approximately 20ish pounds. At this rate I could be the size of Texas by next year. (Incidentally I also recently discovered that I am actually 5'3.5" instead of the 5'2" I always believed myself to be but that is an entirely different tall tale.) I am not sure about where those pesky pounds came from but the reality is setting in - I am in my 30's and sporting a super unattractive muffin top. Not cool.

Disgusted with my size and down about my energy level, I was complaining to a parent visiting me in my office where I am a school nurse. I know that sounds backwards, the nurse complaining to the parent about health issues, but this happens to be one of the coolest parents ever. I totally adore her. She is super cute (but not annoyingly skinny) and has the most fabulous kids. She is totally "real" and one of my favorite things about her is that her kids often have that rolled out of bed hairstyle that my kids usually go to school with. It's comforting. We were talking about how we won't allow the kids to take pictures of us because of the inevitable double chin effect (though the reality is that we each are sporting an extra roll between our actual chins and our necks). After we had sufficiently covered that topic we moved on to more pressing issues such as the muffin top we can't seem to ignore any longer. This is when she introduced me to The Game On Diet.

People, this is what I have been waiting for! A game, for points, with my friends, about healthy habits, for 4 weeks only, on teams, and the winner gets a huge prize! I LOVE COMPETITION! Seriously, my husband jokes with me because even stuffing the Christmas cards can be a competition for me. Apparently, this friend explained, the PTA moms were getting this contest together based on this book by the head writer for Grey's Anatomy, Krista Vernoff, and Fitness Guru, Az Ferguson. Its all about "kicking your friend's butt while shrinking your own". She challenged me to join them for a prize of some serious cash money. And when PTA moms challenge the school nurse, GAME ON!

Now, as if I needed any more motivation, my dear husband used a picture of me from pre-TX days as his I heart Faces entry this week. No double chin there. And if you even think I am going to post a post-TX picture of me right here, you have another think coming. Seriously. It's that bad. So here we go, PTA moms, beware!

I Heart Faces Challenge #3: We are Family

2010-01-18T13:45:00.004-06:00

I have loved watching Brian enter this weekly challenge photo contest. He has earned Honorable Mention for one of his photos. Since we were going through photos for his entry this week and we came across and awesome shot that I realized I took, I thought I would take a turn. This is one of my favorites of my daughter with my grandma. There is an 80 year difference between the two - the oldest and the youngest of our family. They were sitting together at the head of the table for our Easter Dinner. This is my picture of family - spanning 4 generations of spit fire women!

Not a cat person

2010-01-16T18:35:00.004-06:00

I am not a cat person. Never have been, doubt I ever will be. Now, I have a cat and I have owned cats in the past, but given the choice - a dog will always win out for me. But how can I resist this snugly warm creature at my feet on a cold winter night? There is something just right about a cat curled up at your feet to warm them up - just so long as you don't move and she decides to bite you! Then all bets are off and that thing is going flying - forget about it.

The iPhonomenon

2010-01-15T22:44:00.004-06:00

I kinda love my iPhone. Is that wrong? I mean really? What did I do before I had my iPhone? I am pretty sure we are about to celebrate our one year anniversary - my iPhone and I. Life must have been so dull before.

With the year 2010 I know y'all expected flying cars or personal jet packs or whatever. But if you had told me even 15 years ago that I would have a mini computer that I walk around with all day long in my pocket and at any moment I could use it to search the internet (what was that?), place phone calls - not attached to some cord plugged into the wall, email, send text messages, take pictures, listen to music, watch movies, organize my calendar, map my route with my GPS location, give me the weather and the traffic, entertain my children, look at my bank accounts, order movie tickets, count calories, read the Bible, name music I hear playing on the radio, or keep me posted on old friends, or really any of the other bazillion things the iPhone can do, I would have thought you were crazy. That was back in the day of the Apple IIGS. We were, like, loading our computer by floppy disks back then. The internet was for select few like my friend, Portia, with the totally techie dad. Digital cameras were cutting edge technology and the picture was totally pixelated.

I walk around with my iPhone today like it is an appendage. Really, I am sure there is some kind of psychological disorder all this iPhone business is going to create for my generation, but seriously - the technology we have today is awesome! Perhaps my iPhone is that "jet pack" that we were promised - just way, way cooler!

You would love your phone too, if you had an iPhone. Plus, if this is what you saw every time you turned on your phone, I am pretty sure you couldn't resist it:

Ughh

2010-01-14T21:21:00.003-06:00

I had totally intended this post to be a highly creative post about my grandma's chair (I'll explain in a later post). But I am not feeling it. First of all I have been somewhat creatively stymied since I starting working normal hours, oh, say, about a year and a half ago. Apparently I am so much more inspired while experiencing sleep deprivation. Go figure.

I have felt it, this impermeable fog of not-creative-ness that has just sort of hijacked my brain. It came over me and left me wondering where my genius went. At first I did think it was my every-day-ness of working, uh, everyday. Over time I am inclined to believe that is just an excuse that I made up. Something is decidedly different. Even my Christmas letter this year was not as funny nor as witty as years past. What's up with that? I mean, the Christmas letter? That is classic funny stuff right there - but not so much this year.

I used to walk around every day thinking, "This would make an awesome blog post!" or "I totally should take a picture of that for the blog." But recently my camera has been untouched and my brain doesn't tune into that channel anymore. So please, bear with me here in this little space while I find my brilliance again. I am going to really work on it. (FYI - because I am prone to screwing up phrases like "bear with me" I double checked that one on Google - apparently "bare with me" is an invitation to disrobe. I thought that was funny. Also FYI, when you swallow something, it goes "down the hatch" not "down the hatchet" - that would hurt, apparently.)

Practice makes perfect (or so they used to tell me when I wouldn't practice my piano playing - didn't really fly with me in that department, I digress). So, I am going to publicly vow to write a post everyday until I feel the fog lifting - even if by publicly I only have admitted that to all three of you that might read this. Whatever.

And because I am a big fan of blogs with pictures and mostly because I think this is super cute, here are my girls:

Under sentimentalized

2010-01-03T22:21:00.005-06:00

You might not believe this about me, but I tend to under sentimentalize dates. I am not sure why. I convinced myself not to be all gushy and goofy the day I had each of my babies. No tears were shed when my children went off for their first days of Kindergarten. If my best friend hadn't come to town and insisted I celebrate my 30th birthday, I wouldn't have paid it any mind. I used to think this sort of attitude was how I kept my wits about me and stayed sensible. You see, naturally I am not a very sensible person and am prone to extreme emotion. A darn Hallmark commercial can send me right over the edge. Worse, a standing ovation for a soldier, good grief, you'll have to pass me a whole box of Kleenex. I am embarrassed by such things. So, I guess I figure those times when most people would be overcome by sentimentality I am superior if I don't place too much importance on it.

Certainly this is backwards thinking. I am starting to understand this now. Dates are important. It is significant that on May 3oth, 2002 my oldest child joined this world. It is a big deal that my baby girl started Kindergarten this year. February 9th of every year should be celebrated with gusto. I definitely cried through my best friends wedding this summer, even though it did not make for very good pictures, I am not ashamed. And though January 1st is just another day, I do need to start taking it seriously. It is the beginning of a new year, a fresh start, and the end of the old year, all the things we should leave in the past. After all, how do we know where we have been without time to demarcate where we were?

So, I don't know about you and January 1st or the 3rd which it appears to be now, but I am making some resolutions, looking forward to a good year, and letting 2009 go.

My greatest flaw

2009-11-19T22:13:00.003-06:00

I know, it's hard to believe, but I do possess some imperfections. Perhaps the most embarrassing and most obvious flaw I have is my lack of tidiness, er cleanliness, um ability to pick up after myself, eesh, I am basically a down right slob. Seriously. I have read the Messy Manuals, self help on learning how to de-clutter and clean, made vows to myself, lived with roommates that forced me to clean, I have even gone so far as to schedule visits with people so that I am forced to clean up, but alas, I still seriously lack the clean gene.

Enter the magic of friends. I know I have blogged on this before, but it's worth repeating. My friends are awesome. I have always had someone who could help me clean. My BFF as a child cleaned for me, my sister cleaned when we shared a room, my college roommate (couldn't have done college without her) kept our room tidy all four years, and well, my husband has seriously failed in this department. He is just as big a slob as I am. I am grateful that here in TX I have found my enabler, a hem, clean friend. We have worked out a deal, she and I. She cleans my house in a way that I couldn't even envision and I pay her. So far so good.

Seriously guys, we spent all of last night cleaning the upstairs and the kids' rooms. I mean we organized, we unearthed, and we cleaned. But apparently Brenda (clean friend) went into their rooms and created some sort of magic. The kids walked into their rooms with oohs and ahhs. Jacob was so excited he called me into his room so I could see how, "she made my bed!" For real. I spent nearly an hour on our art table that seemed just as bad as when I started. She spent 10 minutes over there and it looks like an organized studio. I could hate her for her clean brilliance.

So, for a few minutes tonight, I am sitting back and enjoying my clean house. Just a few minutes though because I think we were already on our way back to our previous state the minute I let the 3 shedding dogs back in the house.

And this is just a picture of my adorable children from like 4.5 years ago because I don't actually have any photographic evidence of my clean house. It does exist though, for now.

Sarah and Brian + 8

2009-11-15T22:03:00.002-06:00

Okay, so first of all, Brian would like to know where our TLC contract is. Second of all, all 8 kids are not ours really, so you can all breathe a sigh of relief - we have not lost our minds, totally. We did, however, have 8 children here overnight and all day today between our two biological children, our two foster children and my friend's four kids (the ones that lived with us this summer). Regardless of how you count it up, 8 is still a lot of kids.

When you have 8 kids you might miss that one of your kids is wearing a sleeveless sundress in the middle of November. Or you might not see that one child has his dress shirt on inside out and even managed to button it that way. If you had 8 kids one of them might have lice and you might have to go to Walmart at 11pm to get lice shampoo so that you can de-louse all of them - lots of lice shampoo by the way. When you have 8 kids probably 2 or more of them could be getting into trouble without you seeing it until it was too late and someone might have already called someone else stupid or something worse. When you have 8 kids you might banish 3 boys to the backyard for-some-peace-and-quiet-for-crying-out-loud, and they may or may not string the hose up over the jungle gym and try and use it as a tight rope to the deck. When you have 8 kids you might have to do like 500 loads of laundry even using your new giant size super sweet LG washing machine and dryer. When you have 8 kids probably a few of them will spill at each meal. When you have 8 kids, more than likely 3 of them will hate whatever it is you made for the meal that the other ones spilled something at. When you have 8 kids you have to take two cars to church - even though you have one of those nifty SUVs that has a 3rd row that seats 3 - unless of course your vehicle is bright yellow and seats 70. When you have 8 kids the gate you installed to keep the little ones off the stairs and the big ones upstairs might end up broken by one or the other going over it. When you have 8 kids and they all are asleep, you probably will be drinking a BIG glass of wine and writing a really long blog post about it.

I like staying with y'all

2009-10-20T21:00:00.002-05:00

Foster parenting has been on my heart since I was a young woman. It seems that I have always known in the depth of my soul that I was supposed to love children. I felt a drive to have children in my home that were not my biological children almost as strongly as I desired my own Jacob and Reba. As a 15 or 16 year-old I was expressing my desires for many children to my mom (a woman who has dedicated her life to loving children as an educator). With her love and wisdom she pressed on my heart the first memory I have of desiring a large family that may or may not share my genetic makeup. "Have children of your own, if you are able. But there are many children in this world that do not have someone to love them. " And there it was. I knew instantly I would open my family to these children.

I have been blessed generously with my Jacob and Reba. We actually just had their parent conferences with their respective teachers. Of course every parent wants to believe things about their children, they are smart, they are confident, they are good kids. It is so affirming when someone else believes this too. Jacob's teacher added his humor to his list of strengths (we get this every year - we are afraid, very afraid) and we know he is funny because he pulls some great one liners at home. He is just funny enough to get in some big trouble - uh, does this sound like someone else we know (eh hem, Brian). Reba had too many strengths to list, her weakness is perfectionism (she only looks just like me - clearly I don't suffer from perfectionism, eh hem, Brian and mom). Most importantly each teacher confirmed our greatest hope for our children, they are nice, loving children. But then again, we knew that.

Life could be complete and fairly tidy with these two. I could easily live forever knowing I had a Jacob and a Reba and things could go along mostly uncomplicated. There would always be one kid for each parent, one boy, one girl, Jacob looks like Brian, Reba looks like me, a bedroom for each, we could easily fit at our small kitchen table, and we would always have enough seats in a regular car. In many ways they more than fulfill my need for children. But after that moment so many years ago, I knew that it wasn't going to always be about my need for children but rather a child's need for me (though I feel more blessed than ever). Who needs tidy and uncomplicated?

Along comes S and I (I am not going to use their real names and can't post pictures here because this blog is not password protected). S is 3 and I is 1. This is our first official foster placement. I am overwhelmed - with love. I is as cute as can be. He brightens our days with his baby laughs and smiles. We marvel at the milestones he has already hit in just one month. Having a baby in our house again is fun. S is very active and high energy and there are times when I want to pull my hair out. But for every moment I am going potentially bald, she makes up for it with words or actions that melt my heart. Ah, 3, I remember you. The magic mercurial age of 3. You are just cute enough that your parents won't kill you. Bless her little heart. She looks up at me with her cockeyed pigtails at least once a day and says, "Momma, I love you. I like staying with y'all." And this is when I remember - have children of your own and love them and then open your heart and home to the children in this world that need a momma to love them. In the end, the love you give to a child gives back 1000 fold.

Legitimate questions

2009-08-01T14:27:00.002-05:00

Right before we left on vacation the kids and I needed to do some essential Target shopping. Pretty much we just had to buy underwear because the 1 year old yellow lab puppy has decimated our underwear supply and you can't very well go on vacation without underwear. I digress...

We were walking into Target just past dinner time and the kids hadn't eaten. We were entering famine stages and the kids were launching into a full fledged whine. Jacob, in his ever theological and introspective way asks the epic question:

"How come they say, 'If you believe in God you will never be hungry and if you believe in Jesus you will never be thirsty.' And I am BOTH right now?"

Ummm... What 7-year-old thinks of that? Don't ask me for my answer to that. I am sure it was not nearly adequate for the question.

How to stalk your favorite blogista

2009-08-01T11:35:00.005-05:00

1. Believe if you met your favorite blogista you would most definitely be best friends.

2. Drive to blogista's current city of residence (aprox 14 hour drive) without alerting said blogista in advance.

3. Arrive anonymously at blogista's favorite coffee house and buy coffee.

4. Blatantly introduce yourself as a huge fan.

5. Suddenly realize how creepy your stalking has become and admit it out loud.

6. Proceeded with hour long conversation which confirms you and your favorite blogista were meant to be friends.

7. Meet up with blogista for Popsicles later in the week like your stalking her wasn't weird at all.

8. Buy souvenir mug and t-shirt from coffee house like a big huge nerd.

Thanks Annie from AnnieBlogs for not thinking I am a complete weirdo. Come see us in Austin and I promise to find you next time I am in Nashville and maybe even call ahead of time. I am grateful for the time we were able to spend together. I'll do seven minutes with you at the Popsicles place any day! Our pic is on Brian's camera so I will post that as soon as he gives it up.

Tobago, why don't we go...

2009-06-24T22:24:00.006-05:00

We are BAAACKK... from a Caribbean vacation of our dreams. God bless best friends and destination weddings. Kate, my BFF from forever got married last week to her perfect match, Nick. Nick's family is originally from the island of Trinidad, Tobago's neighboring island and under the same flag. Because of Kate's love of the island and because these two are as unique as they come, they decided to have their wedding on Tobago. Thus, as the Matron of Honor, I HAD to go. Did you hear my arm twisting? Right.

So, after 8 years of marriage Brian and I finally got to take that Caribbean vacation (sans kids) and contemplated never coming back. Everything about the island says slow down. I actually don't think I saw a clock the entire time I was there. Though we were coming from Texas (unlike those coming from Los Angeles and NYC), we noticed a definite pace change. Don't order breakfast and expect it before you are hungry for lunch, in other words. The beaches were beautiful. The water was clear and warm. The snorkeling was awesome (I didn't even scream out of my snorkel this time). The locals were lovely. The rum was strong. The 30ish people we traveled there with were incredible company. And I loved it!

We had the distinct advantage over other tourists as we had some semi-local help. Trinidadians travel there for vacation often and those whom we were with were quite knowledgeable. We stayed in rental homes, near the beaches, with people that were used to driving on the wrong side of the road. Uncle Oscar (Nick's Godfather) was the ultimate tour guide and often the life of the party. Brian and I felt like part of the family (we stayed in the family house) and by the end of the week had invited ourselves back.

The wedding itself was beautiful - I absolutely cried through the entire thing. I am not sure why I was so emotional - perhaps it was purely because Kate, my BFF, had found her perfect match and was experiencing the happiness I had always prayed she would find. Kate was shining, absolutely shining, lit up from head to toe. And regarding Nick, a finer man would be hard to find.

Enjoy some pics (most of these are Brian's - I was too caught up in vacationing to actually use the camera much) and dream of your own Caribbean Vacation.

Belated Father's Day

2009-06-24T11:28:00.002-05:00

What words can I even say about my husband this Father's day that aren't overshadowed by his actions.? Two weeks ago when we were in Tobago I heard over and over again from the other wedding goers (men and women alike) that Brian was a good man and I had chosen wisely. "Yes," I'd say, and then I'd correct them, "Brian chose me." This fact continues to astound me as I see him grow year by year. I knew I had a good man when I married him 8 years ago. What I assumed, but didn't know, was that he would be such an amazing father.

When we arrived home from being out of the country we got news that a good friend of mine was in need. She had four kids and needed an immediate place to stay and childcare for up to two weeks. Brian said, without hesitation, that she could come stay with us - no questions asked.

Father's day, after church, Brian spent it at a ballgame - which I was working - with 6 kids, 4 of which were not his. Though my sister came along for support and their mom joined them a couple hours later, he shouldered the responsibility like the man I knew he could be. Did he complain about not being able to sit back in a recliner (which we don't own) watching his 52" flat screen (which we also don't own) with a beer in his hand (no way he would drink with that many kids to keep track of)? Not a peep. I would say, "What a man!" but really, I know how much better than the average man he is.

Illegal in 7 States

2009-05-17T08:15:00.003-05:00

My husband, Brian, is a random man. He has hidden gifts and talents. One gift we discovered this year (much to my waistline's detriment) is his gift for baking. At this very moment he is making from-scratch waffles - who does that? I don't bother to take the time - that's why they made Bisquick, right? Whatever, he makes things from scratch and as long as I don't have to, I am a happy woman.

Last year sometime we were introduced to a cookbook called The New Best Recipe from the editors of Cook's Illustrated. We came by this miraculous cookbook through a good friend famous for her baking and jamming skills and known as a collector of cookbooks. Brian, ever looking for the next best cookbook was immediately taken with this epic book. This book is right up his alley coming from America's Test Kitchen the editors have taken the best recipes and experimented to make one best way to make something. Oh. My. Goodness. It's like consumer reports for recipes. Brian is in recipe heaven.

So, short story longer, Brian's amazing cookies come from this book. I mean to tell you, these suckers are seriously addicting. As soon as he starts getting out the familiar ingredients I start salivating. When they come out of the oven I start to hallucinate and can actually hear them calling my name. The addiction is only fed by each cookie I eat. You know how sometimes you can eat something unbelievable and then by the third or fourth one you are way over it. Not these things, boy howdy. The only thing that stops me from eating the whole batch right then and there is the thought that I could possibly run out and running out would be bad - withdrawals can be nasty.

I have deemed these cookies (due to their addictive nature) Illegal in 7 States Cookies. Bake them if you dare.

Thick and Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies (from The New Best Recipe)
2 cups plus 2 tablespoons unbleached all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
12 Tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, melted and cooled until just warm.
1 cup packed light or dark brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg plus 1 large egg yolk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1-1 1/2 cups semisweet chocolate chips (don't skimp on these, buy the name brand)

1)Adjust the oven racks to the upper- and lower-middle positions and heat the oven to 325 degrees. Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper or spray them with nonstick cooking spray.

2) Whisk the flour, baking soda, and salt together in a medium bowl; set aside.

3)Either by hand or with and electric mixer (Brian uses our stand up electric) mix the butter and sugars until thoroughly blended. Beat in the egg, yolk, and vanilla until combined. Ad the dry ingredients and beat at low speed just until combined. Stir in the chips to taste (and taste a lot if you are me when Brian turs around to get the other bowl).

4)the next step has some weird direction about making a ball then pulling it apart and putting it back together or something. Brian at this point has lost interest in directions and just scoops up some balls of cookie dough, throws them on a sheet (we actually use baking stones that are well seasoned) and tosses them in the oven.

5)Bake until the cookies are light golden brown, the outer edges start to harden, and the centers are still soft and puffy. 15 to 18 minutes, rotating the baking sheets front to back and top to bottom halfway through the baking time (you would think that this is a direction past the last one and Brian wouldn't do this but trial and error has proved this direction to be key). Cool the cookies on the sheets. Removed the cooled cookies from the baking sheets with a wide metal spatula. (Brian discovered that if he removed the cookies and placed them on the rack too soon that they are SO fabulously chewy that they would droop down through the grate of the cooling rack. So, seriously, let them cool - this is also important before putting them in your mouth and subsequently burning your tongue on crazy hot chocolate.)

That's it gang! Remember, I warned you. Any illegal possession of cookies is on you.

Another man's treasure...

2009-05-12T21:18:00.003-05:00

Last week we had an impromptu yard sale. Basically, Friday night the neighborhood put up a sign saying that the neighborhood yard sale would be the following day. I read the sign at about 9 o'clock Friday night. At about midnight, after surveying the attic and the closets, I decided that we could, in fact, have a yard sale the next day. I pulled some seriously ridiculous things out. I mean to tell you, I have no idea why we have had an "extra" TV in our attic for 2 years and in storage for a year before that. What I am capable of accumulating is amazing.

In my excitement to get rid of things I pulled out an old Christmas present from my husband. It was a gift from our first Christmas married. He was being so thoughtful when he gifted me with a bubble machine for the bathtub. I think it was supposed to feel like jacuzzi jets, but really it only managed to cool my bathwater off too quickly and ultimately I didn't have the time or the patience for baths and gave up on it all together. I was eager to finally purge this useless item.

My husband, finding sentimental value in the ridiculous machine, pulled it out of the heap. "The kids would love this," he said and claimed that their enjoyment was worth more than the maybe 5 bucks I could get from it. I begrudgingly gave in.

Since then, we have never had two kids more eager for bath time. This just goes to prove the old adage, one mamma's junk is her kiddo's treasure - or something like that. Oh, and I made about $160 in about 3-4 hours; not too shabby for not really having too much stuff out.

Gruene

2009-04-28T22:00:00.003-05:00

Did you know that Gruene has the oldest dance hall still operating in Texas? Yup. Looks like these girls were fixin' to dance. If only they could figure out how to get in...

We had a great time with my family (Molly we missed you) and a great meal at the Grist Mill (a turn of the century cotton mill turned restaurant). The lovely old homes and quaint little stores are right up my alley. Gruene (pronounced green) is one of my favorite spots in TX. Take a tube ride down the river and you will soon understand why.

Shriners

2009-04-28T21:54:00.002-05:00

Oh, those Shriners. They are still at it - continuing to brighten the lives of children and their parents. Bravo Shriners for all your years and years of work supporting those children in need of medical attention. As a school nurse I have a special place in my heart for those wonderful folks who work tirelessly to raise money for children who otherwise could not afford their medical care.

As a parent, thanks for the face painting and the balloons. You made their day!

Never say "I can't"

2009-04-24T17:32:00.003-05:00

This year, with great trepidation, and some serious convincing to an admissions office, I started graduate school. I don't actually have a really clear idea of what I will do with this when I'm done, I just knew that it was time for me to get my master's in nursing. Now, if you had asked me 8 years ago if I would be going back to school I would have said NEVER. And I would have meant it, especially to further my education in nursing.

I wrestled with my identity as a nurse since day 1. I even had a professor tell me I would never make it as a nurse. I carried her voice with me around in my head through my first several years. I questioned myself, was this really my calling? Only after school and emergency room nursing, years into my career did I begin to feel like I fit in to this profession. But, still, why grad school?

After course work began I was seriously doubting I had made a good decision. Still, week after week I seemed to still be in the game. Then the paper came up. Now, you have to understand scholarly papers were the bane of my college existence. I could not write them. More importantly I could not write them and turn them in on time. I would write a questionable paper and turn it in so late that I would lose ridiculous amounts of points. Put me in creative writing circles and I had an easy A. Make me write a thesis driven research paper, Lord help me. I wrote my professor an overly dramatic email about how I was completely paralyzed and could not write the paper.

Despite the overwhelming odds against me, I began that paper. I turned in several drafts the week before it was due and my prof helped me do just some minor tweaking. Then, I took a deep breath, and 24 hours before it was due, I turned it in - a complete and hopefully articulate paper. I know, you can all fall over in disbelief now. I did.

Now, I would have been OK with just the accomplishment of writing and turning in the paper alone. Mission accomplished. I had done the impossible. But, it gets better! I got an email from the professor returning my graded paper. 100%! I think now that you know, I will have officially told everyone. This is how amazed I am. I guess I will stick with grad school for a bit longer. Perhaps you will see that day when I become an advanced practice nurse. So much for never making it... If I never do anything else with my Master's Degree, one thing I know for sure, I will have conquered a long time belief that I could not do something that apparently I can.

The Post Office Miracle

2009-04-24T16:57:00.004-05:00

April 13 at 3:37 pm I sent a package from my local TX post office to Pasadena, CA PRIORITY. This package contained my BFF's (Best Friend Forever for those of you that haven't had a BFF since your pre-school days) laptop computer (recently repaired by Brian) wrapped in some packing paper wrapped in a quilt that I made for her. This was no ordinary package. This was a very important package. I told the post office lady this several times. We agreed that Priority was the best way to mail it. I got a tracking number to be on the safe side.

Fast forward to April 21. I get a text from BFF. "Should I be concerned that I haven't gotten the package?" YES!!! PANIC!! Several phone calls later I get to the Pasadena post office guy and he says to wait a couple more days - like 2 - like the amount of days it should have taken for the package to arrive at it's destination. Arrgh. I wait.

Then I prayed. Yes, I prayed that my package would get to her. We teach our kids to pray about everything that concerns you, but how often do I do it myself? I am not sure what I was more concerned about, the computer or the quilt. She wanted the quilt. I already had plans to make her another one. I worried about the computer, identity theft, the cost, the inconvenience... Then I prayed. Why, oh, why didn't I pray first?

Today I got a phone call, "I got the package! And I scared the post man half to death!" What do you know? Answered prayers. About a package. A PRIORITY package filled with hours of love and hard work so that the person on the other end would know how much I care.

Relay for Life

2009-04-18T15:20:00.003-05:00

In memory of Grandpa Bill, we lost you too soon. In honor of Cheryl, fight on. We walked for you last night.

Haircut Documentation

2009-04-05T18:00:00.003-05:00

The haircut process... Sorry it took me so long. These were on the iPhone and I just took forever to email them to myself. Pathetic, I know.

Bunny Ears

2009-04-05T17:01:00.004-05:00

I am definitely delinquent on posting about this - sorry Grandma. A couple of weeks ago (just before the haircut and the tooth pulling) we were on our way to COSTCO (I have a whole other post on why COSTCO is my favorite place) and we stopped to get the mail. In the mail we found a key to a package box! These are the days we live for around here. A package box key is cause for great elation among 5 & 6-year-olds (also 30-year-olds - if you want to know the truth).

This package was a special delivery from a CA great-grandma. Leave it to Grandma Luce to fill a box full of little wonders that my kids would love. There were chicks and Easter hats and coin purses and bunny ears. The kids were tearing through the box getting all excited. Brian and I were happy they were entertained on our 20 minute car ride to COSTCO.

Suddenly I realized that more than one car of folks had passed us just laughing hysterically. What the heck was so funny? The radio? A conversation? What? Then I looked behind me and in my very own back seat I saw this:

Ah yes, hysterical. They wore these into COSTCO and then on several other trips out as well. Seems we leave a trail of laughing people in our wake. Grandma, you have brightened not only the day of these two but many more who shop where we do.

Attack of the killer tooth

2009-03-25T22:13:00.001-05:00

We are coming off of an eventful or uneventful spring break depending on how you view it. It was uneventful in that we didn't have 8 (count them 8) softball or baseball commitments during the week. There were no meetings, no tennis league, no alarms going off at 5:45 am. There was, however, Sea World, picnics, hair cuts, and dentist visits. It's the latter that I will discuss here.

This is perhaps the most awkward stage I have seen my child in yet (though judging by his father and I, I am sure there are plenty more to come). Jacob is in this funny place between really cute and completely funny looking. Our recent trip to the dentist and family salon has furthered this juxtaposition.

Jacob's long locks were finally too much. Although quite cool among the boys these days, the long hair was becoming an eye sore. There was much discussion in our house about hair cuts and subsequently some tears shed regarding this as well. Daddy would cut it but Jacob didn't want it that short. I would take him to the salon but they would use scissors (apparently we have a fear of hair cutting scissors). Finally one day last week after a delightful picnic I swung into the salon before we reached our house. Surprise attack! The hair would be cut.

After scowling through the entire haircut, Jacob was ultimately very pleased with the result. Fred, the hair master, had done the impossible. Jacob had a hair cut that he was thrilled with! The grin that spread across the boy's face at the final twirl in the salon chair was priceless. The ladies I was sitting with all commented on how adorable my little man was.

Fast forward to the following day. Jacob has been to the dentist and the dentist has deemed that two teeth must be pulled. Jacob has one adult incisor tooth on the top, a left incisor missing, and the two teeth in question are the other front incisor and right incisor. I want you to have the clear picture here (oh right, just look at the photo). Among Jacob's top teeth he has one giant adult tooth front left, a gap to the left of that, then two teeth that need to be pulled immediately to the right. I am thrilled that we are pulling the center tooth that has been dead since he took a header into the bathtub at age two. Though I am suddenly becoming more aware of what this child's mouth is going to look like.

Welcome to the attack of the killer tooth. One giant tooth remains in the front of this boy's mouth. He plays with it now, putting it on the outside of his lips furthering the hilarity of how it looks. Lord help me, I can't help but laugh.

So, Jacob is the most adorable kid I have ever seen until he opens his mouth and bears his pearly white. Just the one. We are calling it his killer tooth.

On watching daughters:

2009-03-25T22:08:00.003-05:00

I have never felt such tugs on my heart strings as I watch my little girl on the softball field. She is the smallest girl on her team and the only one who has never played before. To say she was a skilled player would be an untruth. She is, however, enthusiastic and pays close attention to whatever the coach tells her to do. She may not hit hard or run very fast but she does it just like she is told - and she is darn cute when she does it.

Last week we saw her unreasonable confidence shaken. Coach got a new tee. The old one was broken and could be completely shrunk to an appropriate Reba size. With this new and improved tee at home plate, Reba struck out, twice. She put on a brave face and walked back to the dugout, defeated. I wanted to throw up, knowing the kind of feeling she must be experiencing and yet unable to change things or protect her. I would not be the kind of mom that never lets her kids experience disappointment. What would they ever learn otherwise?

This week I watched yet another strike out on the too tall tee. Fearing that this might finally squelch the spirit of my softball player I suggested they might use the other tee for Reba. Actually, I made Brian ask the coach if she could. Apparently I still don't want to seem like a meddling mother. Two hits later on the old tee we were well back on the road to confidence. As we walked away from the game with one happy little girl I was still perplexed - which battles are for mom and what must my baby endure? How much can her spirit take before it is crushed? Apparently we were safe with the three strike outs as she announced she "would probably get a sticker from coach for her helmet seeing as how I played so well today." Uh, huh. We will have to work on perception next.

Big Texas Sky

2009-03-16T03:40:00.002-05:00

Nothing like an awesome sunset in Austin to remind you of how big that Texas sky really is and how blessed we are to live here.

3am, it's been a while old friend...

2009-03-16T03:17:00.004-05:00

Here we are again, 3am. It's been a while. How are you old friend? Can't say I've missed you much. I was getting quite used to sleeping. Ah, well, if it's just for a short visit, I guess I don't mind.

Where have I been, you ask? Oh, well you see, I joined the world of normal people who work normal hours and sleep at night. You know, it's funny, I always joked I liked mornings coming around the other end much better. I am going to have to disagree now. Morning is pretty awesome to wake up to. No, offense, of course, to you, the wee hours of morning that I don't see very often anymore.

Why this short visit, you wonder? Right, well, some things never change. Day life was taking a break. It's called Spring Break. I am thinking that most folks are on vacation, sleeping late, or at the very least taking it easy. I saw the opportunity to sneak in some night shifts at the hospital. Work, work, and more work. Still burning the candle at both ends...

Now I have you worried? Oh, don't be. I am OK. Our little visit here is reminding me to slow down and enjoy life. The Emergency Room will still be there this Summer if I get lonely for you. We can always catch up with each other then. Gotta go, now, 4am is calling.

For Reba

2009-02-18T20:06:00.004-06:00

When you turned five you could...

Read like 3rd grader

Tie your shoes
Play softball
Work the iPhone
Memorize your parent's phone numbers
Recite your address
Count to 20 in Spanish
Count to 100+ in English
Ride a bike with training wheels
Dress yourself
Take care of your dolls
Draw fabulous pictures
Get your own water from the refrigerator
Buckle your own seat belt

Make anybody laugh

Melt my heart with a smile

*note the Cabbage Patch Doll Reba is carrying - a gift from the Queen. Apparently this is the 25th anniversary of the Cabbage Patch - which only means that I was exactly her age when I got my first Cabbage Patch Doll - one of the originals. I smelled this one - they still smell the same. I forgot to check the butt for the signature... I always thought that was weird.

On being 30

2009-02-17T16:56:00.003-06:00

That massively significant birthday arrived for me last week. 30 years on this earth. And, honestly, I don't feel a day older than I did before. Probably more significantly I feel like my chronological age finally matches my internal age. I was probably born 30.

As this birthday approached, I looked forward to it. Not too long ago I came across a goal list I had written more than a few years ago. On it I had written things like: own a home, have two happy and healthy children, be making enough money to live comfortably, be happy working in my profession, complete requirements to foster or adopt, all by my 30th birthday! I had no idea then how this list would come to pass - nor had I even seen it in at least 3 years. A little over a year and a half ago we became home owners in one of this countries best places to live. I am currently working as a nurse (this is what my degree is in) and not making a fortune but living comfortably (most of the time) and happy to be going to work (most of the time). Now, just days before my 30th birthday we sat down with a social worker to do a home-study - the final component for our license to be foster parents. I could only dream about these things several years ago and here they are - just in time for my birthday!

I am most grateful for this birthday. Not only have I been able to have great personal satisfaction I was able to share it. Since I was about 3 years old I have known and loved my best friend, Kate. Kate is a constant in my life. We have played in our mothers' classrooms, shared many awkward years, learned to ski together, vacationed together, worked together, worshiped together, seen each other through heartache and finally soul mates, she stood behind me at my wedding and I will at hers, when each of my kids were born she was there at the hospital to welcome them, we have grieved loss together, my best friends know and love her and I hers (I hope), and most importantly we celebrated birthdays together. My 30th birthday was no exception. Kate was right by my side as I entered my real adult decade.

What did we do? Oh, I know you all are dying to hear that I did something incredibly exciting. Nope, not really. We enjoyed a leisurely weekend, beer and barbecue at the best BBQ restaurant in central Texas, wine and cheese at home, shopping, and massages. Really we could have done anything or nothing and it still would have been a wonderful birthday because I was able to share it.

Here's to 30 - a year of adding to our family: a Butcher/Adams wedding, a Van Benschoten baby (I really can't wait to be an auntie!!), and a foster baby for us. Who knows what all is in store, but it looks promising! And one more thing, here's to Brian, who's birthday is today and who is experiencing much more trepidation than I about this transition to real adulthood. Love you, babe!

This is us this year. The photographer was having a hard time - but I liked the effect.

This is us from a few years ago at Kate's birthday. I don't think we ahve changed much...

Just because she's cute!

2009-02-02T20:43:00.003-06:00

Just in case you were worried that Reba was having more bad hair days than good - here's what she looks like just after bath time when I dry her hair. And, well, being serious only lasts so long with her so here's what we usually see, below.

FYI

2009-02-01T21:50:00.002-06:00

It snows in New Jersey.

Showered

2009-02-01T20:10:00.006-06:00

I made a quick getaway last weekend to New Jersey. I know what you are thinking, "You got away to NJ." Yes. I was honored to be asked to assist in hosting my college roommate's baby shower. Momma Puz (that's what we call her in reference - though she probably wouldn't mind it to her face) generously paid for, organized, and truly hosted this wonderful baby shower, but asked me to help in the actual execution of it. I was delighted to.

Kristin, my roommate (as we still refer to her - and they me) lived (put up) with me for all four years of college. We came to be roommates after both our original living circumstances came crashing down around us. Her original roommate was the alcohol and drug supplier for the Freshman junkies and mine was a nudist who ended up threatening me physical harm - good times... Anyhow, we were then placed together and never looked back. After four years we were more than roommates she was another sister.

I have to admit. I am seriously excited for this baby. I am FINALLY going to be an auntie! Well, close enough, at least. As soon as I had solidified plans to attend the baby shower I started in making baby VB (the last name is ridiculously long and hard to say and spell so we shorten it with the initials VB) burp cloths, diaper bag, bibs, onsies, a sling, and one goofy updated version of a sock monkey. Alas, I took no pictures of any of it, but rest assured there will be more things made and I will remember to take pictures before I ship them off.

The shower was beautiful, the mom to be was glowing, and dad to be (Eric) was appropriately excited. Kristin was literally overwhelmed with gifts. The amount of gifts just reflected how truly loved this baby will be (not that my little foster babies that come with nothing will be any less loved - just SO many people were SO generous to Kris). I got to see the other 'Nova girls. And I was so blessed to spend time with my East Coast Family. So, see, I really did get away to NJ.

The only down side to the entire trip was the startling realization of my current size. Now, I was well aware that I had, in the last year or so, put on some pounds. What I didn't realize was just how many inches that equaled. Well, folks, when measuring Kristin's girth for the "how big is the belly" game, I joked that she was probably the same size as me in my normal state. Guess, what? It's no joke. The two people who won that game measured my waist (I originally wrote waste as my husband so tastefully pointed out) as reference. Yeah, guess who signed back up for Weight Watchers. I will let you know how that goes - minus all the gory details

January??

2009-01-29T19:01:00.002-06:00

Where did January go? I am telling you - it's like I blinked and January passed. Just the other day I was lamenting about the deer sized dent in my Honda. Then cablooey! It's almost February. Well, folks, I have a valid reason for my absence. Here goes...

Remember when I said "more on fostering later"? Now is later. Brian and I have spent what feels like every minute of this month focusing on getting our Foster/Adoption license. It was my dream (and subsequently my husband's) to foster infants. I have long wanted a large family. Good sense and advice from my mother prevented me from actually giving birth to said large family. I clearly remember telling my mom when I was probably 13 or 14 that I wanted a bunch of kids. Mom wisely told me to have my own children but to consider how many children there are in this world that don't have someone to love them. Since then, this notion of bringing more children into my home via fostering, has lain dormant in my heart until now. Something about turning 30 next month made everything feel much more urgent.

I attended an orientation for fostering last year but due to scheduling (aka. me working the night shift) we decided the timing was not quite right. We put it off until this month when Brian and I committed to trainings every Tuesday and Thursday nights (thanks Aunt Jenny for babysitting - we finally cashed in on the free childcare). Weekends have been spent attending behavior management classes and CPR re-certification (for Brian - rest assured, the nurse is current on her CPR). Evenings have been spent getting TB tests, fingerprints, background checks, home inspections, cleaning for said home inspections, acquiring and installing locks for medicine cabinets, fire extinguishers, rope ladders, and plug inserts, taking 3 dogs to the vet to document all up to date vaccines, and oh my gosh, I don't even know what else we had to do...

It's all worth it, of course. The longer I work in the schools and in the ER the more convinced I am that this was something I needed to do. All children must know that they are loved, and if I can do that, even if it is just for a short time, then I have succeeded. So, as you can imagine, January feels like it flew by. As I type, I have two kids in my lap and Brian is drinking a beer as he makes some dessert. It is a long needed break for us both (even though we thought about stringing Jenny along with some made up training we had to go to). I am exhausted in the most satisfying way. We can now approach February (and more importantly 30) with a greater sense of purpose. Just short of our home study, we are foster parents!

Now, as the kids say, all we need is a baby.

Ringing in the New Year with a Bang

2009-01-08T22:46:00.003-06:00

I have never been a huge New Year celebrator- not that I don't love the idea of New Year. Don't get me wrong - a clean slate, goal setting, a fresh new year, my birthday in a little more than one month - it is the recipe for a great day. Unfortunately I usually work New Year's Eve and when we lived in Pasadena I spent the day after avoiding the Rose Parade traffic. This year my plans were no different (except for the whole Rose Parade thing) - I signed up for a short shift at the hospital and intended to be home by midnight. The doctors and nurses I work with were warning me to drive safely as there was sure to be some intoxicated drivers on the road. I heeded their warnings and set off in my trusty Honda Accord.

While driving along I was very vigilant, looking out very carefully for headlights coming at me from the wrong side of the road, or other such problems. I was driving slower than usual down a wooded road - eyes peeled - visions of drunks slamming into me. Well, unless the deer was under the influence, no alcohol was involved. A car turned right in front of me and a deer shot out from the right side of the street. She side swiped me leaving a giant dent in my right side bumper, hood and panel. In slow motion I saw her flipping body go up over my windshield. I prayed that she wouldn't come down on top of me and ducked. Miraculously she landed in the street. A second car came along and stopped to move her out of the road and make sure I was OK. Three jovial men got out, scared the deer off into the woods (yes, she walked away) and checked on me. I was fine, shaken slightly, but fine and so they drove on with a warning about my busted out head light. The time was 2350 in military time. Oh deer.

And that is how my New Year's Eve went. I don't believe that this was any kind of sign or foreshadowing about the year ahead. I think it was just a stinking deer at the wrong place and wrong time. In several weeks the car will be fixed and hopefully Brian will never mention that poor deer again. 2009 still promises to be the best yet. I am thrilled to welcome so many good things this year - 30th birthdays, Kate and Nick's wedding, Kristin's baby, our foster baby (more on this later), Reba turning 5 and going off to Kindergarten. Gosh there is so much to celebrate - guess we can really do that any time and any day - January 1 is so restrictive.

A little addendum - on our way home from Foster Parent classes tonight we were pulled over for a "defective headlight." Um, duh. It will go into the shop on Monday.

The Many Outfits of Reba

2009-01-02T14:16:00.003-06:00

Reba, my baby, is almost five. She has always been an independent child and recently even more so. These are some outfits she has chosen in this past week. As to not crush her spirit we have chosen to praise her for one item and then go on a hunt for a match to that one thing. Take for example the crayon sweater get up. We went on a hunt for something to match instead of those fabulous pink leggings (and bright blue socks). Incidentally the crayon sweater was lovingly made for my generation by my grandmother and handed down to my daughter who loves it. Also you can't see in the princess picture the plastic high heeled shoes with the neon green sock toes sticking out. One of a kind, that Reba.

Quilt Extravaganza '08

2009-01-02T13:43:00.006-06:00

Oh, wait, that's my dining room. Yes, it's true. The dining room looked like a fabric explosion had occurred and somewhere buried under it all I emerged with 4 quilts done since the beginning of December. Also under my fabric explosion you might find a Merry Christmas to me present - an honest to goodness Bernina sewing machine. No kidding here, folks. I am now the proud owner of a high end machine. Now, I bought the machine used at a ridiculously good price from an amazing couple I met here so don't be thinking I became independently wealthy overnight or anything. I am just same old me - Sarah Marie, School Nurse (and ER charge - we don't like to forget that).

I am quite thrilled with the results of my efforts this month. Of course, I posted on Dad's quilt in the last post. Mom's is the cowboy prints by special request for her living room. Molly's is out of the same stroke inducing Levi's with the added touch of the airbrushed patch of our family's '77 Ford F-150 - pre-crash (taken from an old denim shirt given to me ca. Christmas 1993ish). I didn't make a quilt for Jenny as she has recently taken up the pastime - sorta - instead I gave her tools for the trade. I did, however, complete a fun "Happy Howlidays" log cabin style Christmas quilt for my family. This quilt was an exercise in traditional piecing and stipple quilting, both of which I am very thrilled with. I am not above patting myself on the back.

Immediately after all of these folks received their gifts I set out for the fabric store to procure more of my medium. My husband says I am an addict. He's probably right. If I am, he's an enabler. My gift from Brian this year was a hand crafted (by his hands of course) quilt rack. What a beauty - he's putting a clear coat on it now to protect the quilts. After it's dry I will post a pic. Right now I have purses to sew and diaper bags to create!

Alright, already

2008-12-29T22:16:00.007-06:00

Seriously, people, I know. I am finally updating the blog. But, really things have been a bit busy around here. We have had the recuperation from the Stomach Bug of '08, the Trail of Lights, quilt making extravaganza (ie. get them done before Christmas), Recipe Book for Heller Family major creative force, Christmas Eve Service, Johnson City lights, school's out for break, 38 heat packs made, and now the Kidd family visiting. Plus, I worked a couple of shifts at the hospital and promptly became violently ill after returning the last time only to re-experience that Stomach Bug of '08. Here is just a little sampling of our adventures from the last few weeks, save the puking, of course...

This was actually less of a spectacular scene that I had anticipated. Really, the armadillos in the scene below should about sum up how I felt about the Zilker Park Trail of Lights this year.

Just look at the look on Jacob's face. He was NOT happy. He was NOT having fun. And we will NOT go on opening night if we ever go again. If we didn't have such good company it would have been a total flop.

Here is the result of the quilting frenzy. Actually this is only about 1/5 of the final product turned out for Christmas. This, however, was one of my favorites - a Levi's quilt for Dear Ol' Dad (aka. my dad). He only had a minor stroke when he "just knew those jeans would be cut up." Whatever, Dad. This one's for you. I felt it fitting the eagle is made out of fabric with the pledge of allegiance written on it. Sometimes I am very clever.

Now, this place was a real treasure. Johnson City, TX - a small town beauty. The Pedernales Electric Cooperative puts over a million lights into their gorgeous oak treas and it is a sight to behold. Something about this place just made our kids run out of joy. I can't really blame them; I was quite taken as well. Brian and I marveled as we watched our co-op dividends burn up with those pretty lights. I guess the cost is worth it.

Can you stand how adorable they are? I certainly could get used to them dressing like this. I mean, cowboy boots, a belt, and a tie? It doesn't get better than that.

This year we gave the kids the gift of transportation.

And apparently as soon as he got his wheels, he was outta here.

Merry Christmas, everyone. I hope yours was as wonderful as mine.

A story you might only hear in TX

2008-12-12T19:43:00.002-06:00

So, I was at work the other day in my office with a bunch of sick kids (I am a school nurse for those of you who don't know) and we had become overrun. I had three deep on one bench all waiting for parents to pick them up because they were headed home. I like to ask the kids what their parents do so I know which parent to try first or who might be easiest to reach. Two of the kids were talking about how their dads were cowboys - like real cowboys, no kidding around here. I mean they work on the ranch and do cowboy things. As they were discussing the authenticity of their cowboy dads the third child chimes in and says, "My dad wears a cowboy hat all the time, but he's not a cowboy he just sells insurance." Oh Lord, I couldn't even stiffle my laugh. Sometimes kids are so funny.

Pageants and Puke

2008-12-08T21:20:00.005-06:00

So, yesterday when I was talking about the kids catching a bug, it was figurative. Tonight, well they have a bug. This is the kind of virus that leaves loads of laundry and a gagging father in the wake. But first, there was a pageant. Be patient, I will get to the puking.

Reba and Jacob have been preparing for this year's Christmas pageant for what seems like all year. This year Reba graduated from a cow (last year) to an Angel. And Jacob was a "Cleaning Shepherd" this year. We thought that the pageant directors did a horrible job typecasting these kids, but whatever. Reba was supposed to be an Angel and Jacob was supposed to clean. HA!

Reba had been a little out of sorts right before the play though I was confident that her natural desire to be the center of everything would shine through. Not so, right before the play was to start she broke down in tears looking for "MAAAMMMAA." Oh, Lord help me. So, I took my wailing angel I felt her forehead for fever and we discussed things. When all was considered she decided that I would sit by the piano on the floor and she would go sing. Brilliant. I was only trampled once by wisemen.

Jacob performed like a star. He was a little unsure what to do with the duster he was given to clean with, but he muddled through. We can't blame him for any confusion, it's not like he's ever seen me dust... If you recall last year, we had to do major coaxing to get Jacob even on stage for the dress rehearsal! This year someone told him that next year in second grade he could be Joseph or a wiseman. He was so thrilled. I checked his temperature too.

That night after I had blogged, gone to bed, and was soundly sleeping, we were woken by the sound of a puking child. Reba had made her way to the bathroom, turned on the light, lifted both toilet seats and successfully contained it all in the toilet. Bravo, kid. No wonder she was so off at the play earlier. Mystery solved and Reba got to enjoy a day with Daddy at home.

Fast forward to this evening. Jacob is laying on the couch, the leather couch, crying that his stomach hurt. I was cleaning off the laundry on the other couch for Reba saying, "Just don't puke on my couches. It's all over if you do." Just about midway through my last sentence Jacob starts to puke and totally is just laying in it ON MY COUCH! I was very motherly and caught most of it after sitting him up, moved him to the bathroom, and gently washed him off and changed his clothes. But, the couch... Anyhow, enjoy the pictures of the pageant; I have spared you all the ones of the puke.

Saturday Night Dinner

2008-12-07T23:20:00.002-06:00

You know how smells can just hit you and bring you back to a place and time - either good or bad? It seems like Christmastime and Advent are prime time for those good aromas to come back to us. I love the smell of our family's Hot Punch on the stove, the fresh cut Christmas tree, the crisp evening night air, scotch tape and wrapping paper (oh, yes, there is a smell), and so many other things.

Last night I was outside right after dinner - probably hiding something from the kids in my trunk - and I walked back into a house of aroma. Instantly it brought me right back to Saturday night dinner. Now I don't mean dinner last Saturday night - I mean what we knew in our childhood to be the standing arrangements for every Saturday night, dinner with the whole family at Grandma and Grandpa's. This was no ordinary event. This was the weekly family tradition steeped in strong family ties, hilarity between siblings, hilarity between cousins, glass glasses that spilled when you bumped the card table, nights of "programs" put on by the third generation, dress up clothes and quilt forts, trampoline coffee tables (serious here, folks), rolls that were always forgotten in the oven, malts for desert, arms resting on top of your head (a common familial position), and usually going home so tired you pretended you were asleep just so someone would carry you in. Sigh... Those were the times.

Cardboard Box Genius

2008-12-07T22:46:00.005-06:00

My children have clearly caught my bug. Not the hacking, coughing, earache, sinus pain bug that I can't seem to get rid of - the cardboard box creative bug! Just look at these masterpieces. Geniuses at work here, people. Jacob crafted these cameras the other day. There's a telephoto lens on that FiberOne model. I wish I had a picture of the kids with them, but alas I took these just a few minutes ago and waking kids up at 10:30pm to take pictures of their cardboard box cameras is, well, silly. So, here's some shots leftover from Thanksgiving so you get your dose of adorable.

We seem to have a plethora of cereal boxes around our house. It's not that we eat an extraordinary amount of cereal - it's just that they sit in the garage until they are bundled for recycling downtown (CA transplants - it's hard not recycle your cardboard) and it can take several months for us to get around to it. At some point my children were looking for a new medium to create in and discovered this virtually untouched source. BOXES!!

I can relate to this love for boxes. It seems like you could really make anything out of them. My all time favorite thing to do was make Halloween Costumes out of them. There was the Milk Carton costume we made for my sister Jenny complete with the face cutout for "Have you seen me?". There was the refrigerator that I won best costume for - I even had a plug coming out the back. There was the Christmas Present (I was so cute). And there was even the ET lunch box costume for Molly - I think she did this one mostly on her own. My senior prediction was even something to do with finding my fortune in cardboard box costumes. I am so proud that my children have discovered this love.

So far my kids have just stuck with some basics - a good fort now and then when we have a giant box, some mailboxes, and those cameras. I am eager to see what they will make next. We have seen some fun accessories, though. The mailboxes came complete with mail. My special delivery came with some ads and a love note. I might have to run out to Lowes and get that Brown Mulch - what a deal.

Giving Thanks and The Edifice

2008-11-29T09:47:00.003-06:00

We are so very grateful this year. Though not nearly as life changing as last year this year has been especially wonderful for our family. We have been blessed many times over with friends, family, steady employment, dependable cars, good neighbors, dogs that love us, and exceptional children (usually). Could we really ask for more?

We were lucky enough to have the in-laws in town for the holiday - this has become a tradition now that we all look forward to. We spend the better part of the week on some massive home improvement undertaking and then Thanksgiving day we spend cooking, talking, and filling the house with amazing smells. Last year we were the grateful recipients of a brick lined planter in the front yard. This year the kids scored big time with a custom built fort and jungle gym complete with swing, trapeze/rings, and climbing rock wall. Their grandpa obsessed over the "fort" for probably about 200 hours and that is likely a gross understatement. The end result is an "edifice" that will withstand many years of playing and imagination.

The meal this year was just as amazing as last year. We pulled out all the Hill Country TX recipes complete with a smoked turkey and barbecue sauce. An added treat this Thanksgiving was the presence of our friends. There is something about a large gathering around my dining room table that brings warmth to my heart. This was a perfect day to spend with our friends as we are so very grateful for their friendship. Their presence also added some hilarity to the evening when their 4 year old got up from the table, confidently filled his cup with ice from the dispenser on the fridge door, then asked, "Which one does the lemonade come out of?" Brian said that just as soon as he can figure out how to install the one that beer comes out of he would put the lemonade spigot in too.

I hope your meal and your company were just as wonderful this year as ours. Here's to next year. May your cup runneth over.

Meanwhile back at the Ranch...

2008-11-26T10:14:00.006-06:00

Some things never change. I flew in for a super quick trip, just a few days in CA, and managed to make it for the epic yard sale. My parents are known for good yard sales. This one was no different. After eliminating a storage unit they discovered copious treasures that surely someone would buy. During this event I visited with neighbors, drank too much lemonade from the young entrepreneurs down the street, and managed to rescue a couple of items for myself (she was trying to pull a fast one and sell yards of wool with me right there - can you believe it?). I took some pictures of the actual sale, but who wants to look at a bunch of junk?

I had only enough time to eat dinner out with the extended family, get to church, visit with Grandma Luce, chat with my cousin match, Jessica, teach a little Sex Ed to 5th and 6th graders (the real purpose I was traveling), and eat WAY too much Mexican food. All in all, a jam packed weekend, but I wish I had time for more. So many faces I didn't get to see... Next time perhaps.

I did have to make it back to TX for my Hill Country Thanksgiving! My in-laws are here to celebrate (and build us a jungle gym). I am looking forward to a Smoked Turkey and some good old fashioned Texas treats. Stay tuned for the Turkey Day pics and some of the new edifice in our backyard.

Dirty Jobs

2008-11-21T21:31:00.005-06:00

So, yes, I know, it's been a rather long spell since I last posted. I'm here to tell you that this day job thing is cutting way into my blogging schedule. I mean what a pain, I wake up at 5:45, get dressed, get kids up and going, drop a child off at school, then I work all day, only to get home and repeat the whole nutty thing. 5 days a week of this! How do you people do this? To top this off I am working a hospital shift everyother weekend still. What kind of crazy am I. Again, how do you people do this?

Anyhow, things around here have been actually quite busy. For starters Aunt Jenny moved out to a house down the road a bit. We helped pack up our beloved Grandma and Grandpa Dentist for their move to Wisconsin and Jenny has the priveledge of a long term house sitting arrangement. I was not prepared for how emotional I would get over my sister moving out of my house. I am not ashamed to say that we both cried. Who knew? After 10+ years of not living under the same roof you would think that living together would have been tougher. Not so, living apart seems more difficult. Things have been quieter around here - especially with the added departure of Jenny's dog, Coach. Now we only have three dogs. What will we do?

I have been quilting, moving back to the dining room table for sewing central. Jenny took back her sewing cabinet, and frankly I kinda like sewing at the table. Darn that pesky Thanksgiving meal that I have to put the sewing machine away for. The family wants to eat in the diningroom - whatever. Quilt tops have been flying out of my machine. After inheriting some amazing books from the one and only Grandma Dentist I have been hot to try every one. I know, big nerd, right here. I am soaking up all the knowledge on this I can. I even called my Grandma Luce to talk about our family quilts. She and I agreed that my quilt from my great grandma was made of almost all 1930s/40s era feedsack! Only other big quilt nerds would be excited over that discovery I just realized.

In other news, our children continue to crack us up. We make no bones about the fact that Jacob is allowed to watch a somewhat questionable show as one of his two shows we actually Tivo for him. Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe is probably one of the funniest and most educational shows on the air. As a Discovery Channel show we feel it is generally ok. Unfortunately for us this has provided us with more than one occasion for a lesson on appropriate language. Just the other day Brian said in some other context, "Kick your..." and Jacob filled in, "Ass!" So proud of himself and then quickly deflated as we explained why we don't use that word in our house. "But Mike Rowe..." was his quick response. Yeah, we know, but Mike Rowe everything lately.

We just had Reba's parent conference where the teacher gushed about how brilliant our 4-year-old is. Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know. She can read, she can write, she can do calculus (not really, but you get the idea). When she asked us about our goals for Reba we responded with, "We'd really like her to be able to catch and throw a ball - simple gross motor stuff really." Mostly I would just like to throw Reba a ball without it boucing off of her chest. This is really just to save her all the embarrassment I suffered as a youth.

Halloween

2008-11-04T21:06:00.004-06:00

I know, I know. I forgot to take a picture of my kids but I remembered to take one of the Jack-o-Lanterns. Just so you don't think I really suck, I took these pictures the day after Halloween. Anyhow, just thought I would share how very clever we are. Brian's is the "Boo" pumpkin and mine is the "mice." I am really not that clever - I saw the mice in a magazine - I just thought mine was cuter. The kids' pumpkins were a carve by number so I didn't really feel inspired to post those. Sorry, if you are disappointed.

A visit from Grandpa

2008-11-04T20:54:00.002-06:00

My dad paid us a visit recently on one of his semi-regular trips to TX. Jenny and I knew the instant we heard he was coming that a certain couple of puppies would get his undivided attention. We were not wrong. My soft spot for four legged terrors definitely was inherited from this man (though my mother won't admit it, she also had something to do with this). He is a sucker for a puppy and our little Coach and Bailey were no exception. We now have the most photographed puppies in TX thanks to Dad.

Incidentally the granddogs love him right back. Tut was actually the first one to give "Grandpa" a hug. I guess he missed him.

A sick day

2008-11-04T19:38:00.004-06:00

I finally have succumbed to the Austin allergies and have developed a reactive airway disease (one step away from asthma). Ultimately I couldn't breathe and took a day off from work to get an official diagnosis and meds from the doctor (nurses are the worst about going to the doctor). My day off just happened to be Halloween and so I was able to send the kids off to school in costume without the stress of a normal morning.

The best part of my sick day was getting to observe my boy and his daddy walking home from school. This is a daily thing for them, but it struck a chord in my heart. How cute are they? By the way, Jacob was a UT Football player for Halloween (for the character book parade at school he was Buzz from the Fly Guy series and carried the football book with him as well as a fly in a jar). The costume/uniform was a very beloved hand me down from dear friends whose child wore it a year ago and is 11 now. You can see how big it was on him - he didn't care. And I am totally the horrible parent that didn't take any pictures of her fairy princess. Some other mom got a great pic of Reba and promised to email it to me later - I will post it then.

The Pat's Adventure

2008-10-20T17:16:00.003-05:00

There is a long standing argument in Philly - which cheese steak is the best? Pat's, Geno's, or Jim's? They equally give me indigestion and make me wish I had never set out to eat one in the first place. However there is one that stands out as the best. Pat's Philly Cheese steak is the choice of this group of culinary wannabes. After completely stuffing ourselves silly at the brunch after the wedding, devouring home cooked goods that could have sustained the entire army at Valley Forge for the winter, we decided a great idea would be to go downtown and get us some Pat's. Some of us had the better sense to share our cheese steaks (ahem, Brian) and some of us did not. It is rumored here at Pat's that the cheese steak line is somewhat reminiscent of the Soup Nazi episode of Seinfeld. I have always been too nervous to test the theory.

The Home is Where the Heart Is

2008-10-20T17:11:00.003-05:00

This is just a little taste of the beauty of the Buchanan home.

Rinners Gets Hitched

2008-10-19T23:57:00.004-05:00

The last of the roomies to wed, this was Rin's big day. Rin has been holding out for the love of her life and she found her perfect match in Matt. I do love the weddings. I have only missed one East Coast wedding for my girls from Villanova.

Somehow I managed to not get so many pictures of the bride and groom, but more of everyone else and the rest of the weekend festivities. Sorry, Rin. I must have been so busy laughing at pregnant Kristin who couldn't seem to put a coherent thought together. We had many laughs at her expense. Including a great guffaw at Kristin's story about the bride's new last name - which she apparently thought she had misspelled on the wedding card after I corrected how she was saying it and proceeded to panic over the whole thing. Hours later when inspecting the offending card, she realized that she had not in fact spelled it wrong at all. The whole weekend went like this.

We really enjoyed seeing all the old gang and revisiting some of our favorite places. Besides the obvious - school, apartment buildings, church, Great Harvest Bread, Anthropology - we also were very delighted to spend some time at Rin's parents' house. Over the course of a couple of years Brian and I had the great fortune of spending time with her amazing family. Seven children in total and Rin is the oldest. We were always amused at the ever inviting dinner table. Her parents always made any one who entered their home feel loved. They are the stuff of fairy tales. Our visit Saturday morning was no exception. Not only did we feel welcome and loved, but we also were able to observe those kids from before, now adults in their own right. These children have grown into confident and uniquely gifted adults. What a testament to exceptional parenting.

Can I get a refund?

2008-10-19T23:36:00.004-05:00

This weekend we flew into Philly for a quick trip and a wedding. We absolutely could not miss Rin's (Erin's) wedding - the last of my college roommates to marry. Rin grew up right around our alma mater so Brian and I decided to stay with another old roommate at the hotel right by school. We were able to fit in a quick trip to campus to drop a small fortune at the bookstore and grovel at the new nursing building.

My jaw must have been obviously dropped as we walked up to the very impressive Driscoll Hall - the new home for the College of Nursing on Villanova's campus. An old professor I was really hoping didn't recognize me (I was infamous among college professors - probably due to my ADD I realize now) stopped and said she noticed that I was a former student. She recommended that we go on in and take a look around - we would be impressed. I tell you what, we went in, walked around, oohed and ahhed - and frankly, I would like my 120,000 dollars back for a do over. (No pics of the inside - sorry.)

I mean really

2008-10-13T22:37:00.003-05:00

Could you have said "no" to this?

Generations

2008-10-13T22:08:00.005-05:00

I adore watching my children engage with their grandmothers. We had a weekend of generational togetherness with my mom and grandma visiting. Four generations of Heller/Kidd/Miller women under one roof for three days. We could have taken over the world! Or, I mean, we had a lovely time.

We also journeyed to Houston to see my great aunt and cousins. The three hour drive made my seat sore but it was soul soothing to see them. The kids especially enjoyed playing with a cousin their age and reading the books Aunt Motie (the forever teacher) gave them. Reba showed off her superior reading skills. The only one disappointed was Jacob - he was hoping to see more things "wrecked" from the hurricane. We pointed out as much damage as we could. Though most things had been cleaned up we could still see evidence that a disaster had occurred. It was sobering to drive through neighborhoods with tarps for roofs and piles of carpet and ruined belongings out on the curb for trash pickup. The generator was still sitting in my aunt's backyard and we were grateful for the electricity we had.

By the way, Jenny and I jammed again. This time we planted Grandma next to us in the kitchen so she could be part of the action. While we were jammin' Grandma was reminiscing about Rhubarb (what is that anyway) and her mother jamming. Every so often she would interject with ,"that was six and a half cups of sugar." We all had a good laugh at what we imagined was a collective jamming session. In the end some seriously fabulous Raspberry Jam was concocted (with only one panicked phone call to the jamming diva in Wisconsin).

All the Gourdy Goodness

2008-10-08T17:38:00.004-05:00

I love Fall. I love Fall for all it's gourdy goodness. I love how the light is different and shadows play off things. I love the browns and oranges and greens of this season. Here in Texas it's still sometimes 90+ degrees but somehow you can sense there is a change in the air. We enjoy the change as we sit on our deck - now that it's not 110.

I also love Fall for its holidays. I always look forward to Halloween, not for it's spookiness but for the sense of creativity it brings out. We always made our costumes - my first experiences with sewing, and perhaps this is why I enjoy this weird holiday so much. I won awards in high school for my costumes. In fact, I think my senior prediction was that I would someday find a way to make money building costumes out of cardboard boxes.

Thanksgiving is also one of my favorites. I have so many wonderful childhood memories surrounding this holiday. This was one of the least stressful holiday events that I can remember. All we had to do was make pies - and that is one thing we are very good at. In my college years Thanksgiving was spent with friends and then Brian's relatives. Thanksgiving in Pittsburgh, NY/NJ, and North Carolina - who can beat that? I had my first taste of ice hockey, giant parade balloons, and Southern hospitality. Now I look forward to family visiting and the joy of cooking and spending time together with my in-laws (a little home improvement each time isn't bad either).

Welcome, Fall!

Sew in love

2008-10-07T20:41:00.003-05:00

I love sewing. Seriously. I LOVE sewing. I find nothing more therapeutic and satisfying. I do often find myself frustrated by the tiny size of my little replacement machine after my original died. I keep trying to convince Brian that the $900 machine is really worth it. Imagine the things I could make on that! I think that is actually what worries him. He is imagining several more storage bins of fabric that I will want to make these things with. Whatever...

Here are some of my latest favorites. One is a quilt I didn't show a pic of because it's a gift for my mom. The next is a yet to be completed quilt for Jacob who picked out the fabric himself. Cowboys, of course. I am super thrilled with the last one which is an awesome gift from Grandma Dentist. She is moving and cleaning out the sewing room. This was only one among many gifts. She said this jewel quilt has been unfinished for about 5 years. I am delighted to get to finish something that looks like so much work has already been put into it. My next projects include a quilt for grandma, a purse for Molly, and Doctor H, if you are reading still, I have to send you that quilt for your little guy!

Boys

2008-10-07T20:25:00.005-05:00

I came home to this inviting sign yesterday. Apparently my first grade boy has become just that, a first grade boy. Beware the little sister than goes in the box fort when the boy is not "ther." Also, if one sign wasn't enough, he made three. The tissues were a late addition after the copious amounts of dog hair on the floor must have gotten to his sensitive nose. Poor baby. And yes, this is the box that the dog crate came in. It is the box box. Also, I am thinking we need to work on some spelling - though at the parent teacher conference today we heard what a genius he was. Lord help us if that boy's head gets any bigger.