A quiet celebration

I whine enough on this blog, so I thought I would take a quick moment and share a quiet celebration.

My in-laws visited for a few days and left yesterday.  They are really wonderful people--I'm very blessed.  The irony is that even though they are fantastic, I have a tendency to get all weird b/c I feel like I have to impress them.  Still.  After 10 years of marriage and giving them 3 grandsons, I feel like I have to meet this fictitious standard of perfection in front of them.  Things like having a sparkling house, well-behaved children, delicious meals and merry-making all around.

What?  Where did that odd idea come from?  Not them.  My MIL regularly reminds me that when her kids were little it was tough for her to keep up with all the laundry, cleaning,etc that goes along with motherhood.

Here comes the celebration:  I relaxed and enjoyed their visit.  My house was clean enough for all to be comfortable.  My boys were themselves and were loved just as they are.  I will say I rocked the food element.  I made a gnocchi dish for supper that was very popular.  I baked pumpkin bread that was also good.  I even served cookies and kale chips that I had made.  All very well accepted.  In my own foodie health nut way, I was a good hostess.  I also made gallons of coffee.

More than anything else, I just stepped back and let my in-laws enjoy their time here.  I tried to not hover and just let people be.  Very, very good.

One other small celebration--last night got a bit chaotic with taking down the tree and putting away decorations.  Before starting supper, I took some time to recharge.  I read a new cookbook I got for Christmas.  After that 10 minutes, I was ready to go again and was much more pleasant.  It's tricky to know what's going to help me relax but I'm getting better at it, much to Aaron's delight.

No one cares about my dirty floor

I'm thinking about my goal:  keep the long-range focus in mind.

In the long run, what is important today?  To have fun with my boys.  We're home, don't have anywhere we have to be, and have all day to just be.

Wish I was better at being.  I know my in-laws will be here this afternoon and a part of me kicks into hyper worry mode that my house is a mess and they will think I'm a horrible mate to their son and mother to their grandchildren because of the squalor. 

Taking the step back, I rationally know that I don't have to gain anyone's approval.  I'm whole in Christ, loved and accepted for who I am.  It has nothing to do with the cleanliness of my house, the quality of the boys' clothes or the quantity of Christmas decorations we have.  That felt good to write.  I'm loved for just being me.  I really should cross stitch that on a pillow.

I have a list of tasks for us to do around the house that really do need to be done anyway.  My twins love helping me clean.  I've accepted that they won't do a fantastic job, but I would prefer to celebrate their good effort and just live with a not perfect job.  The little guy is negative help.  He wears me out on cleaning day, but I try to take a deep breath and remind myself that this is a season of my life.  In 3 months it will be different.

Yesterday I got out my fave Christmas toy that I got the boys:  a Hank the Cowdog card game.  Boys 1 and 2 played go fish with me with the character cards while #3 took a rare nap.  I loved it!  They are still a bit young to really get it, but it was fun for me.  I kept the long-range focus in mind:  enjoy this day with my boys.  Today I'll work hard to do the same.

Moving more

My friend had borrowed the book, The Me Project, and returned it to me a few weeks ago.  I decided with Christmas looming, to wait to pull it back out until after the excitement of the holidays ebbed a bit.  When I do, I'll follow the book's advice to choose one of my 50 goals and take action to make it happen.

Today I reviewed my 50 goals. It was neat--if I make progress towards a goal, I write a little snipit and date it.  Today I got to write some updates.  Felt good.

One of the goals that I think is most pressing is to move more.  It's not that I'm inactive, but I'm starting to see that at 34 if I don't get more active my future might not be so bright.  So, for two days in a row now I've done yoga.

I won't lie--I don't love yoga.  I love how it makes me feel, but I would much prefer a really loud cardio class at a gym that gets my blood really pumping.  Unfortunately, I gave up my gym membership when I was pregnant with #3.  I have to make due with what's available to me around the house.  Yoga is the easy target.  Not earth shattering for me, but something.  I also like hitting tennis balls against the garage door.  My boys don't love that, but not everything is about them all the time.  Until the ball hits them.  Then it becomes about them.  Good thing I'm not good enough to make the ball go too hard and also a good thing that they generally watch out.

The holiday aftermath

As a conclusion from my previous angry car post, it turns out my tire had a tear in it.  Somehow we limped to my parents' house, airing the tire up every 30 minutes.  Super fun.  Instead of an almost 4 hour drive, it was 5.  I can't complain too loud because A-we made it there and B-we made it to a tire place that was open and was able to replace the tire.  Much better than possible alternatives.  Still makes me grouchy thinking about it, though.

Today the holiday aftermath is in full force.  As a rule I make breakfast before I do much on the computer, but today I'm breaking my rule.  I wanted to take a moment to share my thoughts with the hope that getting them out I'll be a more cheerful mom.

Aaron gently got onto me for being grouchy this morning.  In my defense, as I write this, I have a whiny 3 year old complaining that dad didn't let him try his mashed potatoes while he packed up his lunch. 

The mornings are tricky for me.  I really am a morning person, but I get up at 5:30 so I can spend some time with the Lord before the day really gets going.  The trouble is that my boys get up between 5:15 and 6.  On good days they leave me in peace but on days like today, they don't.  Yes, I know that as parents we could make the rule that they can't leave their rooms until a certain time.  We're close to that.  I think I may campaign for it for 2013.  We'll just see.

Back to today.  We celebrated Christmas Day with my parents on Christmas Eve and then came back home that afternoon.  A winter storm was headed this direction and we wanted to beat it home.  Good choice except that I got the mother of all stomach bugs the night before Christmas Eve.  Yuck.  Made for a not so fun Christmas celebration for me, but life went on.

On the spiritual side of life, I had a wonderful Christmas.  I got to worship in my parents' church on the 23rd and it was a great time with the Lord.

I just wish the aftermath of Christmas with little kids didn't involve extra tears due to tired boys, extra clean-up due to new toys and extra energy on my part to juggle all this which I have to find somewhere.

Aaron very kindly let me go to the movies yesterday afternoon.  I really wanted to see Les Mis and I packed up to go.  I got there and it was sold out.  Huge bummer.  I've actually read the book, seen it onstage a few times and have the piano music.  I love the drama of it and was really excited to see it.  Being so close but missing it made me even grumpier than what I would have been cooped up in my house dealing with the afore mentioned headaches of these days.  Oh well.  Such is the human condition.  I can be thankful for a warm house, healthy kids and a job that my husband can go to so we can be provided for.

My prayer for today:  Lord, give me an extra measure of patience.  Help me be kind and loving to my boys.

Time to cook the eggs.

Deep breaths about cars

I drive a death trap.  My husband doesn't understand the emotional weirdness I have with the car.  I was in a wreck in it a few years ago and ever since then, I just don't feel safe in it.

This morning, I'm switching car seats from the pickup back to the van and I see it:  the front driver's side wheel is completely flat.  This is the one that got aired up for me by the kind car guy just 2 weeks ago.

Grrr.  Anyone else angry at their car?  I know I'm being weird and according to my husband, I just need to turn my feelings off.  Yep.  That happens.

Crackling fire

As I write this, the TV is set to the crackling fireplace as Christmas music plays.  Somehow that's really relaxing and nice.

I'm having a weird December.  I'm calling it my slacker December because I'm trying really hard not to force "Christmas cheer" on myself or my family.  The trouble is that I bounce from being completely "unChristmassy" (meaning I'm not doing anything for the holidays) to becoming crazy Christmas weirdo lady ordering her husband around and being generally unpleasant. 

In years past I've used my Christmas organizing binder to help me plan the holidays.  Its cons were obvious to my husband--it made me be way too ambitious about what we could do in a month.  I had this weird need to do every activity I saw in magazines, have the perfect Christmas card and somehow put reindeer glitter over everything in my home.  Clearly, a recipe for disaster. 

So, this year I've intentionally not touched the binder.  It's been freeing, but I know in the back of my head that many things have to happen before Dec 24.  I'm a big believer in teacher thank you gifts.  I actually enjoy doing these and this year I'm doing a baked/ish good for them that I'm excited about.  But they won't magically make themselves, be prettified in their wrapping or be at the right place at the right time without me planning.

So, today my boys are at MDO.  Instead of scurrying around town, I'm home.  I did some Christmas cards as I listened to my favorite Christmas CD.  I plan to make the white chocolate pretzel goodies in a bit.  But for now, I'm taking a deep breath.  The weirdly hypnotic fire on the TV is helping. 

At a deeper level, I know today my spirit just needs to mend a bit.  I found out the sister of a dear friend passed away last weekend.  Even though I only met the sweet lady once, the hurt for my friend takes a toll on me.  So today I'll play the piano a bit.  Somehow that helps me vent my emotions.  There's something about playing songs of the faith as I sing along that just helps me feel like God is patting me on the shoulder, reminding me that even when my heart is heavy, he's here.  Barb is in heaven with him, singing right along with me.

And then I think I'll get out the binder.  Maybe not.  We'll just see.

New #33--car care

I decided to replace my current #33 (find a pulled pork recipe we love) with something much more pressing:  Know how to maintain my vehicle.

This summer, I had a flat and couldn't fix it.  A kind stranger saved the day.  Today I had a low tire, pulled into a gas station, plugged .75 3 times while my husband talked me through how to air it up.  I realized tearfully that the tire was completely flat.  No air had entered the tire.  My boys were in the car, waiting for me to fix the tire. My husband works 45 minutes away from where I was.  Not good.

A kind cable guy pulled up and asked politely if I needed help.  Yes.  He told me to pull through to a better air pump.  That sounded odd since a Waffle House was in the direction he was pointing.  He told me to wait a second while he made sure there was help there.  OK.  He drove back and told me to pull into the spot by the state inspection.  OK.

It was a tire lube place.  They directed me in, aired up the tire and sent me on my way in less than 5 minutes.  The cable guy even waited to be sure I was OK.  How sweet is that?  Sometimes it really is nice to live in a small town.

My dad raised me to be a princess.  He did my car stuff for me and thought if I knew how to call AAA I was equipped for whatever car issue came my way. 

My husband's family doesn't work that way.  They don't cry when something breaks--they fix it.  We've been married almost 10 years and Aaron didn't know I didn't know how to use the air compressor.  I'll be sure he teaches me very soon.

After the flat last summer, I asked him to watch the boys inside so I could use the car manual and figure out where my flat is (not easy), get it out and get it ready to change.  I'm not confident I'm strong enough to get the lug nuts off the tire, but I do know how to get the flat out.  We should probably practice with the jack while we're doing the air compressor lesson.  Such fun being a grown-up.

Motherhood story

Sacrificing a favorite shirt for my sons

I'm a city girl. A bagger at the grocery store actually asked if I knew the TV show “Green Acres” because I reminded him of a girl who left the city, moved out to the country and pretended to be a farmer.

I wasn't sure if I should be complimented (that actress was really pretty) or insulted. The fact is that I do live in rural Texas with my farmer husband and 3 loud boys. They love the wide open spaces and revel in the chance to explore. We were outside one afternoon, boys playing, me reading a magazine. It was peaceful. It was nice. I should have known that when all appears serene, calm and lovely in the world of raising 3 small boys, some mischief is brewing.

Walt, one of my 5-year-old twins, was limping towards me with tears in his eyes. “Mommy, I need my boots!” he sniffled. I noticed he was very muddy and not wearing shoes.

I looked down at my favorite white shirt. Date night was in about an hour and the white shirt would be the perfect thing—I had the outfit all planned out in my head. My attention snapped back from pondering my clothes as I could hear the other two boys at the bottom of the hill, laughing along with the unique sound of mud thudding.

I threw caution to the wind and decided to carry Walt up the hill to the house. He didn't have much mud—I thought I could prove the strength of my stain remover if he got me a bit muddy. I told him to strip down and wait for me on the back patio while I gathered up brothers.

John, twin #2, met me climbing out of the pond, also with tears. His shoes and socks had gotten sucked into the mud and he was climbing barefoot. His face was muddy as were his feet. There was no way I was going to let him trudge up the hill with grassburrs eagerly awaiting his tender little feet. I picked him up under an arm and carried him to the back patio.

I then headed back down for boys#3, David, a 3-year-old that loves mud. He was covered in it. His feet were stuck in the mud but it didn't bother him. When he saw me, he greeted me happily with, “Hi, Mommy! Want to play mud fight?” No, I didn't. He was happy so I decided to salvage socks and shoes of brothers while he played a bit longer. The shoes and socks were completely submerged in the filth. It took some effort to find them all. I threw them back up the hill, hoping I could find them later. I then went for David.

I looked down at my white shirt. There were brown smears from mud, but it was still salvagable. After carrying David I knew I would be covered in brown. For a moment I considered taking the shirt off and quickly carrying David up the hill. The back of our house is pretty much hidden from the neighbors, but the hill can be seen if someone is looking as they drive by. I chose not to be the weird nudist neighbor that would probably become popular with my male neighbors but very unpopular with their wives.

I scooped David up and got ready to climb out of the pit and up the hill. The mud happily sucked his light up sneakers into the mud. I quickly pulled them out and thew them up the hill. I pulled him up under my right arm and started out of the mud, but my rain boots stayed put. They were stuck. I had a moment of panic—my twins were unsupervised on the back patio, the 3-year-old depending on me to get him up the hill and I was unable to move. I took a deep breath, put him down, pulled my boots away from the vicious enemy mud, picked him back up and trudged up the hill for the third time.

When I put him down, I looked down and saw my lovely shirt was completely covered in mud and I was mad. They stripped, bathed and were happy in Pjs watching TV as I quickly got ready for my date. I called my mom, expecting empathy. Nope. She instead gave me a lecture about keeping a better eye on the boys when they're playing outside. I told my husband, expecting a big hug and a heartfelt thank you for all I sacrifice for my boys. I thought he may even offer to get me a new shirt to replace the ruined one. Instead, he told me since no one was hurt I needed to let it go and not make such a big deal of it. Awesome. Just what I wanted to hear.

So I called a friend. A fellow mom in the trenches that does her best every day like I do. She listened, laughed at the appropriate places and told me to write this one down and add it to the other adventures I've had with the boys. Like when one dropped a board on my head from the play fort, resulting in a horrible black eye. No hospital visit, but certainly embarrassing at church and grocery shopping.

Mothering has picture perfect moments like first words, celebrating staying dry all night long in underwear and watching a preschooler proudly write the letters in his name. Motherhood also means making lots of sacrifices like privacy (going to the bathroom alone is such a luxury!), a tidy house and quiet. Even the wardrobe goes through a change as favorite shirts get ruined and high heels put on the shelf because they make catching boys really challenging. And dangerous for me.

Through all this, it sure is nice to have friends I can call who really get it. Whose kids also ruin their clothes right before date night. The Lord knew I would need an army of mom friends to help me remember to laugh through the various adventures of motherhood.

My mom was right—I was at fault for not watching the boys more closely. My husband was also right—no one was hurt so this really wasn't a big deal. But it was a big deal to me that they could have been hurt, that I had been physically trapped in the mud and that a favorite piece of clothing was no longer. My friends got it. They reminded me that one day this will be a great story to tell my daughters-in-law as we watch my grandkids do equally ridiculous things.

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I would love comments!  I have until Friday to submit this.  If you think it should be cut down, tell me.  If I didn't explain something well, let me know so I can.  The competition doesn't have a word limit and the winners are going to be used to help Matthew West write a song dedicated to MOPs moms for Mother's Day.  I don't know if my voice is representative of other MOPs moms, but who knows?  Maybe Matthew West will write a song all about this crazy adventure.

And the beat goes on

So funny.  One of my 50 goals is to be a part of a writing contest.  I thought I could do one a few months ago, but my "story" was more like a mom memoir.  Sweet, glad I wrote it, but not a good fit.

Now, at MOPs international, there's a writing contest for mom stories!  How cool is that?  What's even cooler is that something totally, complete odd happened last Friday that I'm itching to share with the world.  And now I can. 

The deadline is midnight Friday but I'm good with that.  I'll work on it and post it here soon.  I'm so excited!

Toy closet success

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving surprise:  my wonderful MIL whisked my boys away to her house for the Monday and Tuesday before Thanksgiving.  My husband had to work Monday and Tuesday, so we met halfway Sunday after church, switched boys to her car and they had loads of fun with her and my FIL while I had some time to just rest.

I'm not great at resting.  I'm getting better at it, but I'm nowhere near as good at it as I wish I was.  I did take all of an hour to clean out the toy closet.  I gave a few things away but mostly I just rearranged it.  Not a huge thing, but it sure is a nice feeling when I open that door daily for room time and every toy is in its place.  Until Christmas when I know I'll have to rearrange again.  Oh well. 

Beyond that, I just took it slow.  No huge shopping trips.  Nothing for Christmas.  I just didn't want to.  So, I went to the library and got some books and DVDs for me.  I read an Evanovich.  Not classical literature, but one of the authors that makes me laugh out loud.  I also read the next Ann of Green Gables.  I didn't read them as a girl and have been hugely blessed by reading them now.  Side note--I'm on #8, the last of the series.  I'm a third of the way through and I've decided to not finish it.  I never do this, but it's just too sad.  World War I is going on and I just see the tragedy that's about to hit.  It's just too much.  Anyway.

I checked out a free form yoga DVD (yes, as weird as it sounds) and a bellydancing DVD.  It was very fun and a nice workout.

I have to brag--the first weekend of Dec came and went and I didn't nag my husband about decorating the house for Christmas.  We'll do it next weekend.  It will still be fantastic.  I took the twins to the town Christmas parade and it was great!  Very fun.  I've given up on expecting the whole family to share every moment.  Sometimes my husband doesn't want to do things that I do.  Instead of getting huffy about it, I just accept it.  He took #3 to breakfast, Lowe's and the feed store.  They both had a great time. 

Advent

Christmas is coming.  Tomorrow is Dec 1st.  I'm a rule follower.  Somehow, I decided that the rule was that all moms had to make the month of December a magical wonderland for their children.  (I decided this years ago while watching Sleepless in Seattle when Tom Hanks said his angelic wife did this).

This is my 6th Christmas as a mom.  I'll say the one when the twins were 3 was great.  I did Advent activities and I really got to teach them that Jesus' birth is the true meaning of Christmas.  As a mom, it was one of my most treasured memories with them.

Last Christmas missed that wonderful mark.  We did Advent activities, but I just didn't "feel as Christmasy" as I wanted to.  Granted, we had moved in the summer before and I didn't really feel settled into our house yet.  The decorations looked wrong.  The boys misbehaved in the Christmas Eve service.  Boy #2 insisted on eating the carrots we put on a plate for Rudolf beside Santa's cookies by the fireplace.  In my mind, there were lots of ways lacking as the best Christmas ever.

The ironic thing is that on the way home from Church last Wednesday night, son #2 talked about everything we did last year and to him, it was absolutely magical.  He wants to do it exactly the same this year.  Really?

I succeeded in my crazy notion that to be a mom, I have to make Christmas a magical, special time.  How ironic that I was kicking myself, thinking I had somehow failed as he waxed on about the greatness of Christmas.

Tonight my husband and I have a date night.  We're going to talk through how we want Christmas to go for our family.  In years past, I've been very structured with daily activities with the kids.  This year, I've decided to put things I want to do in a file folder with materials nearby and if there's time, I have energy and I think we'll enjoy it, we'll do something.  If not, we won't and I won't feel bad. 

Advent is about preparing my heart of Jesus' coming.  There's a peace, a joy and such beauty in that.  The materialism of our culture robs those jewels and leaves in their place a busyness that leaves all of us feeling frustrated.  There's this pervading feeling that we have to all be this superChristmasMom or else we've failed.  Pintrest has only made this worse.  I've decided to not get on Pintrest again until after the new year.  It's my way to say, "Stop that Polar Express.  I want to get off and sit at the station, pondering the miracle of this season."  Easy to write, much bigger challenge to do.

New #34

#34. Focus on the long range with my boys.

After some prayer this morning, I decided I need to quit getting so upset about the right now and spend more time thinking about down the road.  With my boys, my marriage and me.  I worry plenty, but I need to keep in mind what's worth making important now based on what's important in the long run.

Like sheep herding.  We don't have a sheep dog yet (my husband's burning desire) and since we don't, I'm called upon to help him move sheep from one pasture to another.  I've never herded sheep before and I can't say I'm super excited about it, but my boys aren't quite ready to do this yet.  I'm sure they'll try to help, but I definitely have to be the one on point to make this happen.

Focusing on the short term I would primly wrinkle up my nose and tell my husband I don't want to do this.  More realistically, I would do it but have a bad attitude.  Focusing on the long term, I'm asking him for work boots for Christmas.  I want to enjoy working beside him.  I want this enterprise to be both of ours.  In the long range, I want us to laugh about him teaching me to farm.  I want the boys to remember Mom and Dad working together, hand in hand, to make the dream of farm into a reality. 

Looking over the 50 goals

Today I'm taking some time to look back over my list of 50 goals.  I was thinking I would actually print them out and scrap book them, but I'm seeing that I need a bit more brain work first.  Some of these goals just need to go.  

The first to hit the chopping block is #34:  Find an enchilada recipe that my family loves.  Why is that a goal?  My husband loves Mexican food and I've learned to enjoy it, but it's not my absolute passion.  My parents are anti-spicy food so as a kid I rarely ate Mexican food.  Aaron is generally a great eater.  No weird food stuff with him which is awesome.  My boys are also amazingly good eaters.  (I think the Lord knew that with 3 little boys so close together and all the noise, dirt and stink that goes with that, I just couldn't handle having picky eaters as well).  Anyway.  Even though Aaron is a rock star with eating anything I put in front of him, he's pretty picky about Mexican food, chili and other random things that come up out of no where from time to time.  

If he wants Mexican food, there are plenty of excellent places in town to go get it.  All will be happier with that.  

I was so happy to be done with my list and now I have to find another #34.  Hmmm...I'll keep you posted. 

Legacy scrap book page

Scrap booking is such a booger bear.  I have many friends who swear it off entirely because they just can't stay ahead of it so they don't want to try.  For me, it's a place to show a moment in time.  To celebrate it, ponder it and leave it as a legacy.  My boys and I sit and go through our scrap books from time to time.  I've noticed their strongest memories are of what they see in our scrap books.  What a motivator to keep doing it.

Admittedly, I call myself a "quick and dirty" scrapper.  I sort the pictures, get them on the page, put on a few stickers and call it good.  Not works of art, but enough.  I especially do this for the events that are important to our family, but they don't really pull at the artistic part of my soul.

I'm getting to a point now that when there's something to scrap that does touch my soul, I want to spend more time on it and really savor it.  This is a new place for me.  It's neat.  The page I posted above is a scrap book page that really stirs my soul. 

A few months ago I wrote out a favorite memory of my grandma, thinking I would admit it into a short story competition.  Not really a short story, but my fabulous friend Kathryn encouraged me to use it for a scrapbook page.  Genius!  My mom gathered up some pictures of me and grandma and even found a black and white photo of where the specific incident happened that the story addressed.  Super cool.

Today, the little one is napping (rare but wonderful treat) and the big boys are happily building and playing demolition in the play room.  I have some me time.  I scrap booked this page and boy, do I feel wonderful.  My grandma was one of my favorite people I've ever known and my heart aches for her.  By doing this scrapbook page, I paid homage to her beautiful memory and I allowed myself to go down a road that is really special to me.

I get frustrated with Pinterest and trying to keep up with the cutsie stuff out there when my soul longs for deep, meaningful expression.  I know scrap booking isn't that for many, but I love that I'm making it that for me.  I love even more that I've developed a system where I can spend 15 minutes on it and in that time I can get out my stuff, do something really special and get the stuff back away. 

THAT is cool in a house of 3 little boys who are just destructive.  It's like living with a pack of bear cubs.  This probably explains why my soul longs for expression.  None of my pack speaks my language.  But that's OK--by showing them my creations on paper, they can start to appreciate it. More than that, it's for me.  I find I'm the sweetest mom, kindest wife and best self when I'm taking care of myself.

I guess the question of the day is, Why don't I make a point to do it more often?

The Pioneer Woman is my hero

The boys don't generally love cooking shows, but they really like The Pioneer Woman.  So much so that we watch it together.  They like the parts where she cooks, but they love seeing life on her ranch.  She has 4 kids and a neat husband.  They actually act out "Mrs Ree" outside sometimes.  J pretends to be Josh, her youngest son, W is Lad, her husband, and D is just happy to be there.  I think he's the dog sometimes.

At dinner, sometimes D will just decide he's Mrs Ree and he'll pretend like he's her--the host of a cooking show.  Cute in theory, but he makes a mess of whatever's on his plate as he creates his recipe.

Yesterday we made monster cookies which we watched her make one day.  I'm not a bake from scratch kind of girl.  Just not.  I was super motivated and tried to let the boys help me.  I just don't have the patience for much of that. 

I had them all sit at the table and they could help pour stuff into the stand mixer.  They did OK.  I actually let the big guys break eggs.  J did surprising well.  W tried, but when I told him to firmly bang it, boy did he.  Egg flew all over the table.  I have to brag on myself here--I didn't get mad at him.  He did his best.  We cleaned it up together and kept going.  Soon after that I told them I would finish up from there and they got to watch Bob the Builder while I did.

The cookies were amazing!  They were an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie recipe with rice crispies.  I threw in some chopped up butterfinger just because I had some from Halloween.  Wow.  These are my boys' responses:
W:  20 times scrumptious!
J:  Crazy yummy delicious
D:  Even better than cottage cheese and turnips

I plan to write Mrs Ree a note telling her the high praise her cookies received from my brood.

When I like even more about Mrs Ree is that her attitude is wonderful.  She embraces her country life and thrives there.  I'm working on that.  We recently got 5 sheep (to sell for meat eventually) and 2 pigs (to prepare the soil for a garden and eventually our own table).  I find myself complaining about the smell of the pigs (yuck), the grass burrs (really painful but somehow my boys aren't all that bothered by them) and the amount of time all this takes from my husband. 

But he loves it.  It's his dream.  And my boys get to be a part of it.  That's really, really cool.

I doubt the Food Network will ever give me a cooking show nor is that an aspiration of mine.  However, I like the thought of being more like Mrs Ree, a beautiful woman that is at peace with where the Lord has her.  She blesses her family and many others.  That's just a cool thing.

Flat brain tango

When we moved about a year ago, my husband and I had an ugly moment.  I will admit it--it was my fault.  I didn't mean to upset him and I really did think I was helping, but in our 8 years of marriage it was probably the most upset he's been with me.

We were packing, me doing the lion's share of it while 3 young, very active boys were at home with me.  Not a fun summer.  Aaron posted on Craig's list that something was free for the taking.  I think it was a broken lawn mower. 

A guy came out to get it one afternoon while my husband was at work.  I had no knowledge of the item and had to worry about my boys while this stranger was looking around our garage.  He asked if it had a key.  Who knew?  Aaron wasn't answering his phone.  (He was in a meeting and couldn't).  The man also asked if a wagon was available for the taking.  I called again.  No answer. 

The wise woman would have said, "No."  Please only take the mower and have a nice day."  Not me.  I gave him the wagon.  All I thought was how much stuff was in that garage, my boys were antsy, I wanted this man out of my garage and Aaron had a ton to pack.  Giving the wagon seemed to be a favor.  Wrong.

When Aaron realized what I had done, he was really mad.  Aaron isn't a yeller.  He's a quiet seether.  Not fun.  He found out what I had done at the dinner table in front of our boys.  In hind sight, they got to see a great example of conflict resolution.  I cried.  He voiced his upset--he had huge plans for this wagon that he had actually told me about but I hadn't been listening when we told me.  I offered to track down the wagon taker and drive to get it back but that wasn't acceptable.  It irked me at the time that the wagon was a big enough deal to get really angry at me over but it wasn't a big enough deal to go retrieve.

Now I see that the bigger issue that was just waiting to blow up was my listening.  I'm bad at it.  Horrible.  I'm a talker.  I'll admit it--I plan what I'm going to say before the other person has even finished talking.  My husband isn't at all chatty and he speaks slowly.  (It's a west Texas thing, not a reflection of his intelligence).  I'm a fast processor and I lived in Spain for a year.  In Spain, the family I lived with interrupted each other constantly and spoke really loudly.  I fit in just fine.  But it left my Texas social skills a bit lacking.

When my dad, Aaron or son #2 choose to talk (which isn't super often since they're all pretty introverted) they tend to give verbal dissertations.  I get bored pretty quick with many of the chosen topics of interest.  Before I know it, my eyes glaze over, I zone out, nod and feign interest.  Super cool.

Aaron was right to be upset.  We clearly had an issue to address.  So, he got on Amazon and got me a book:  Why Don't We Listen Better?  I like the "we" in the title.  Being a good wife, I read it, taking notes diligently.

I got some great ways to grow from it.  My faves:
*really listen.  Repeat back what I hear to be sure I've gotten the true meaning of what was said.  This really helps in heated conversations.  It also helps friends who need to process through something without making judgements, offering unwanted advice or being dismissive.  I'm finding it's also really helpful with my kids--they are challenged to find their own solutions and not rely on me to tell them what to do.
*Be more thoughtful of the speaker.  Don't interrupt.  Don't plan my come back. 
*Keep in mind that normal conversation is like volleying a ball back and forth.  I talk, you talk, I talk, you talk.  This is helpful with Aaron.
*Use a number system.  If Aaron and I are at an impass about something, we rate our feelings.  Ex:  it's takeout night.  I want Chinese.  He wants wings.  I'm at 3 (with 10 being highest) and he's a 9.  We get wings and it's easy for me to let it go.

The big thing I got from the book, though is the concept of the Flat Brain Tango.  The author says that sometimes our brains just go "flat" when something huge is dropped on us and we haven't let it go yet.  It's all we can talk about, think about and everything else around us is filtered through its lens.

After my twins were born, I was flat brained for a while.  Their birth was very traumatic (which I've come to decide all births are) and even though 5 years later we have a happy ending and all is well, I had a lot of disappointment, anger, guilt and shame to work through.  These really strong feelings would come out at odd times.  I remember being in chick-fil-a with my then twin babies and a stranger asked how big they were at birth.  The answer--1 lb 10 and 1 lb 11oz--would make me cry.  In front of a stranger.  And I would stay upset for a while.

I wisely saw a Christian counselor and we worked through these feelings and I was able to let them go and move on with my life.  I still get flat brained over their birth from time to time, but I understand now to pray, journal, talk through it and release the emotions so I can "unflatten my brain" and be who I need to be again.

Some people (Aaron) rarely get flat-brained.  I do easily.  The tango is figuring out how to stay un-flat brained when something happens (often in conversation) and you find yourself in a tango with being flat-brained.

This term helps me and Aaron a lot.  When I'm flat-brained, we call it.  It helps removed some of the charge of the emotion.  It also helps me start the process of figuring out what the root of it is.  We have figured out that once we put a feeling word (lonely, sad, disappointed, mad) on what's going on, it's like the air comes out of the balloon.  On a good day I can journal to figure out what's going on.  I've also figured out that when I'm really flat-brained, I need to retell what the issue several times to truly get it out.

Did Aaron ever read this fantastic book?  Nope.  But listening comes relatively easily for him and now that I've found my "sea legs" in marriage there are times when I gently insist that he listen to something I need to say.

I'm finding that when I text I use the listening skills I learned.  I can tell I'm becoming a better listener.  Boy #1 is like me.  Listening is not a strong suit.  But I can show him how to develop it.  I like to think his future wife will thank me. 

I like knowing that there are ways I can grow and become a better person.  Just as God's mercies are new every morning, so is our chance to take an honest look at ourselves and say "Hmmm...I sure could be better at that." 

Numbers 49 and 50

I started thinking of goals back in August and here we are in November and I can finally finish it off.  Hooray!

49.  Hem up pants in a timely manner.  (Not a task I enjoy doing, but my boys are skinny and their pants just need to be hemmed up.  I tend to put it off because I don't like it but it needs to be done).
50.  Smile at the future.  (This is from my favorite bible verse:  Proverbs 31:24.  She is clothed in dignity;  she can smile at the future.  I tend to worry and fret.  I shouldn't.  I should let go and trust God with today as well as the future).

Thanks for nothing, Starbucks

I'm starting to see that marketing has way too much power over me.  And I want it to stop.  Just as my goal is that my boys' behavior doesn't dictation my mood, I don't want some marketer to dictate my emotions.

I have this weird expectation that each season should feel a certain way.  This is most noticable at Christmas.  Every year we've been married I've been disappointed after Christmas because it just didn't "feel right."  This always confused my husband.  What was it supposed to feel like?  How did it miss?  I couldn't even say how, but it just did.  Silly.

I noticed this year that I expected fall to feel a certain way.  Why?  I wasn't sure.  Now I do.  I bought into some savvy marketing from Starbucks.  If I didn't have a pumpkin spice latte in my hand, fall just couldn't be fantastic.  So I bought pumpkin spice coffee for my coffee maker, sure that would do the trick.  Didn't. 

Now I'm seeing the error of my ways.  Aaron has the right idea--enjoy the day.  Don't expect certain feelings to be there.  Just live the life God calls you to.

How freeing.  Wish I could live on a desert island so I don't have to be bombarded with all the marketing around me.  Oh well.  Such is life.

More goals to add

This morning I was awakened to the howling of coyotes at 2:30.  Really.  Yep, living the farming dream.  Coyotes make an eerie sound.  I couldn't really go back to sleep after that and I thought of lots of great goals.  I'm almost at 50.

37.  Be physically active
38.  Stay in contact with friends
39.  Not allow my boys' choices to affect my attitude
40.  Get certified to teach Spanish.  (As of now, I have bilingual certification to teach Pre-K through 4th grade, but I want to broaden my horizons to be able to teach Spanish classes in middle or high school).
41.  Be joyful in giving
42.  Enjoy agriculture
43.  Wake up with a peaceful attitude
44.  Know my burning "yes" so my lukewarm interests don't take up all my time and attention
45.  Greet my family with a smile in the morning
46.  Let go of the plastic pearls so I'll be ready for the real ones (figuratively)
47.  Live where righteousness and bliss meet
48.  Be a blessing and be blessed as I serve on church committees

Today is MDO and I'm going to celebrate being so close to 50 by doing some "me" shopping at Michael's.  I love scrapbooking and it's time for our new year book.  I start a new book each September with the boys' birthdays.  The front page is going to have all 50 goals on a fabulous Eiffel Tower paper that I found a while back. 

Now that I think of it, 50 goals will probably take 2 pages.  I should get a few more pages for that.  I'm funny--I scrapbook for me, but I get all boyish stuff.  I'm not super froo froo but I'm finally getting to a place where if I see a paper that I just really love I get it.  Something--at least my hobby--should be about me. 

Am I the only one who thinks of everyone around her and then doesn't take care of herself?

Preparation

Last Saturday I got an email from Shutterfly that their Christmas cards were 40% if I ordered soon.  So, I did.  A football game was on and my husband is a die-hard Aggie football fan.  There is not talking during games.  We've been married 9 1/2 years now so I've figured out how to sit with him, be quiet and enjoy the game.

As the Aggies played, I got on Shutterfly and made my Christmas card.  It's fantastic!  And it's at my house!  Hooray!  Before Halloween, I have my Christmas card ready to mail.  As a woman who feels odd amounts of stress during the holidays over things like having to wait on a photographer to get the family picture to me so I could do the cards (2 years ago), wait on shipping to get the cards to me (3 years ago) or the stress of choosing not to do cards (last year), having them ready to go is just really nice.  And they are CUTE!

As I write this, son #2 is happily in his room playing Legos alone while his brothers watch Bob the Builder.  He has figured out that it's fun to be by himself to play sometimes.  It recharges his batteries.  I'm thrilled that he's figured this out because his temper flares the most of the 3.

A box of Christmas cards.  Legos.  Such small things can bring such happiness.

Time for a laugh

Halloween.  Some love it.  Some abstain from it.  I'm luke-warm at best.  Let me explain the very humorous picture above.  It's me, not looking best, but modelling what I thought would be my Halloween costume.  No, I wasn't going to astronaut or hazmat worker.  I was trying to be a Nascar pit crew person.  Clearly I missed the mark.

Here's the story.  I take Family Fun magazine which I really do like, except it has the whole "look how perfect my family is" vibe which can be toxic.  There are lots of cute crafts, recipes and activites to do with kids.  You can do one of these things, take a picture, send it in and they post them.  I've often thought it would be great to have a photo gallery of magazine-inspired misses.  Like the photo above.

The magazine showed family Halloween costumes.  Precious!  I fell in love with a Nascar theme.  The son wore a racing suit (like #2 is going to wear) and mom and dad wore matching white coveralls decorated as his pit crew.  I was smitten.

I searched online for coveralls for me which isn't all that easy because I'm short and petite.  I finally found some on Amazon and asked Aaron to order them and matching ones for him the next time he ordered something. 

About a week later, I was so excited when my suit arrived.  And then I tried it on.  When #3 (age 3) saw it on me he wasn't impressed.  After I took it off, he actually took it to the trash to throw it away.  I was tempted to let him.  This is NOT what the mom looked like in the magazine photo.  Of course, I spent all of $5 on this lovely tyvek suit and I'm sure she spent more on a higher quality fabric.  (Side note--I will wear the suit some day in the future.  We have a farm and I'm certain there will be a day when having a tyvek suit will be a blessing).

And then I had a moment of clarity:  why do I need to dress up?  I'm 34.  No one is giving me candy and we're not going to any Halloween parties.  We'll go to our church's Fall Festival.  Fun, but I'm going to be too busy chasing my own kids to show off my own duds.

I'm glad the mom in the magazine gets her Nascar pit crew moment.  I'm jealous of the Christmas card moment it could have been.  But, I've had enough expectations blatantly busted by the reality of having 3 little boys to really think we ever would have even had a good picture.  One of the boys would have refused to wear the matching costume.  Someone could have gotten sick.  Someone else could have just been a toot that night.

I tell my boys this lovely phrase often:  sometime you're the windshield and sometimes you're the bug.  This is just life.  I was the bug in my plans for Halloween.  The silver lining I'm focusing on is that the moment happened in the privacy of my home, weeks before Halloween, so at least I can enjoy the special night with my family--at peace with me not wearing a costume.

Joy through tears

Today I had to say good-bye to a dear friend, Holly.  She and her family will be moving to another state soon and today was my last time to see her for a while.

I called her yesterday and we had a lovely chat.  We took a moment to celebrate what a neat friendship we've had.  I welcomed her at her first MOPs meeting here, showed her the ropes and encouraged her to get involved.  I also told her about Community Bible Study which has blessed her many times over.  I've seen how much she has blessed others in CBS by serving as a children's teacher (my son loved her class and learned a ton) as well as the other ladies who have been blessed by her.

She also played an important role in my life.  We found out we were pregnant around the same time with our second go-around with kids.  I was terrified of adding a third child to already full load with my twins.  Holly was overjoyed--she has a beautiful spirit that isn't prone to worry as mine is.  We were pregnant in the summer together with small children.  That's a bond.  We even took our kids and pregnant selves to the zoo.  It was hot and I remember being ready to leave pretty quickly.  I remember calling her when my labor began.  David was early and I didn't quite think I was in labor.  She wisely suggested I head to the hospital.  Glad she did--I delivered David within a few hours.

Fast forward 3 years to now.  When she called and told me of their move, I cried as did my boys.  They love her kids, her and her husband.  Today they insisted they give her a good-bye hug.

As we had our lunch, we were discussing the concept of joy.  Not an easy one to explain or fully understand, even for adults.  I told them that when we're happy, we smile.  When we have God's joy, the smile may not show on our faces, but it's in our hearts.

Knowing that Holly and her family are moving makes me cry, but I have a joy that our friendship will continue.  God used our friendship to accomplish His goals at a specific time.  I'm sad that I won't see her at CBS and MOPs anymore.  I'm sad our kids won't play together.  But I feel a joy that this move is good for her family and our friendship won't end.  We're relatively close to where she's moving every so often our visiting family.  We'll make it a point to get together.  We'll send Christmas cards.  I'll see her on Facebook.

Joy is a tricky thing.  Happiness or sadness I get pretty easily.  Joy implies faith and trust.  Good-bye, sweet Holly.  It has truly been delightful to be your friend during this season and the joy we bring to each other will continue, even if it's from far away. 

Remembering Grandma Leslie

I sat down to write my short story entry for the story competition.  I was pleased with it, but I realized pretty quickly it wasn't really a short story.  

I'm disappointed that I don't have an idea for the story competition, but I decided to go ahead and post what I wrote here.

Today is my Grandma Leslie's birthday.  She passed away about 15 years ago and I miss her.  Writing this was a neat way to celebrate her memory. 

Even though I won't submit it for the competition, I'm glad I took a moment to write it.  I decided to go ahead and post it here to celebrate her legacy with you.

A Legacy to Continue

There are many legacies we can leave future generations. Hard work, a dedication to truth, a passion for serving God and a love for the land are qualities I admire and hope to leave to my children and future grandchildren. However, when I think of my own Grandma Leslie, the legacy that makes me smile is her ability to be tougher than any situation that faced her.

I loved my grandma and enjoyed a special relationship with her. She was always my cheerleader and made me feel like I was the most special person she knew. She passed away about ten years ago now and I miss her. She passed away before I met my husband or had my sons. She would have loved them all very much. It saddens me that she never had to joy of knowing them. More than that, I regret I didn't get to pick her brain with mothering questions. She had a wealth of knowledge that I wish I could have asked her about.

Grandma had 12 brothers and sisters. She grew up in rural Kansas. My favorite story about her happened soon after she married my grandpa. They were visiting my grandpa's parents' home which was on a farm. As she walked outside, a snake fell off the roof of the house and landed around her neck.

Had this happened to me, I would have yelled like a crazy woman and made all kinds of racket. I can see myself jumping up and down. There would be tears. I would fully expect my husband to rescue me from imminent danger.

However, Marjorie Leslie was made of sterner stuff than me. She simply grabbed the snake and slung it across the yard. Didn't even slow her down. Had there been Facebook back then, I doubt she would have even posted the event. She just took it in stride.

As a mom of 3 young boys, I'm learning that I'm tougher than I think I am. I chased a lizard out of our house the other day with a broom. Grandma would have been proud. There were no tears—I wanted my boys to see a brave woman who could keep it together. Afterwards, John, age 4, commented, “Mom, it's a good thing we didn't have to call animal control.” I doubt they come out for a small lizard, but still good to know that I could be tough when called upon.

Grandma Leslie is one of those people who truly blessed every person who knew her. I'm proud to be her granddaughter, carrying on her legacy to be tougher than the bumps that might come my way. I'm hoping no snakes fall around my neck any day soon. If they do, Facebook will hear about it . However, I like to think that through it and other challenges that come my way, my boys will see a toughness in me that inspires them to face this world with a confidence, just like the legacy that my Grandma left to me.

A locked suitcase

Yesterday I was watching a show I enjoy and part of the story was that a man moved in with the woman but brought a locked suitcase with him.  He wasn't ready to unpack it yet and it drove the woman crazy that he had a secret from her.  At the end of the show, she picks the lock and he finds out that her curiosity got the best of her.

This got me thinking about marriage.  In the show, they weren't married.  Keeping secrets apparently was part of their relationship.  Not mine.  Aaron and I agree that in marriage, there shouldn't be secrets. It made me wonder if I have any "locked suitcases" I keep hidden.

At this point in our marriage, we're moving forward with a dream of Aaron's and I'm learning how to be supportive.  His dream is to be a farmer.  We got 5 sheep the other day.  I know nothing about sheep.  Never had a desire to learn more than I know.  However, in a span of a few days, I've learned a lot.

I realized yesterday I needed to talk through some of the thoughts, fears and feelings I was having about sheep and farming.  I was filling up my suitcase.  Last night I told Aaron what my concerns were and he listened.  We dreamed together.  It was good.

It takes courage to open up the suitcase.  It's easier to keep it shut.  Intimacy is created when the contents of the suitcase are shared.

Closets

I'm now up to 35 goals out of 50.  Many of them are about organizing.  It's not that I'm averse to organizing, it's just one of those things that require a concentrated amount of time and energy.  Henceforth, it just doesn't seem to happen.

I actually enjoy organizing, or more truthfully, the feeling I get after I organize something.  Last Saturday, we had rain so soccer games were canceled.  I didn't do the whole closet, but I organized sections of my closet in that precious time.  Side note:  if I didn't have 3 small children to attend to, I would have done the whole closet.  However, said children are my responsibility, so I did the best I could and am very pleased with the results.

And now I walk in my closet and I feel wonderful.  Proud.  Relaxed. 

A few more a goals

My goal is to have 50 goals and I stalled out at 30.  The Lord sent a beautiful blessing of rain this morning.  Not only wonderful to replenish the earth, but it gave me a chance to slow down and have a nice, leisurely quiet time with the Lord.  I spend quiet time with the Lord each morning, but with 3 loud boys I don't often have the luxury of lingering while I reflect.

This morning I went back through my 30 goals and updated progress I've made.  I was pleased with how much I got to write.  And I added a few more goals:

31.  Help empower other parents to raise their kids to know God's love. 
32.  Decorate my home in a beautiful, simple way that represents our values.
33.  Find a pulled pork recipe that my family loves.
34.  Find an enchilada recipe that my family loves.
35.  Use my Spanish blog to point others to Christ.
36.  Teach others Spanish so that they can share God's love through it.

The fourth cake

September has been a long month.  I just baked our 4th cake.  Don't be impressed--they were all from mixes.  Each has been for a specific occasion and I worked hard this week to get my second son to agree to have something besides cake to celebrate on his special night, but nope.  Had to have a cake.

So, per his request, I made a strawberry cake and will ice it later as a monster truck cake.  My excitement about the first monster truck cake has definitely waned.  But, alas, motherhood marches on so I will decorate that cake this afternoon.  The birthday boy requested root beer floats which I'm excited about.

True unity

I'm in a ladies' bible study that I love.  This year, we're studying the book of Acts.  The way this study works is that we meet together at the beginning and ending as a large group and then break into core groups to discuss the week's lesson.

We sing to begin those large group times.  I love music.  I have learned that loving music isn't the same as being a gifted musician.  Yes, I sing well and have a strong voice, but it's not the loveliest voice in my church choir.  I play the piano, but have never learned to perfect pieces and be an excellent performer.  I've never really learned to control my nerves.

Today the group's usual pianist was gone and I was asked to step in for her.  Granted, I only got the music yesterday, but it wasn't beyond my skill level.  However, I still did not play it perfectly.

I had warned the music leader that I play well, but keeping a steady beat isn't my strong suit.  I play to enjoy the music and worship the Lord.  She was kind and appreciated my willingness to help out.

All this to say that today we studied the passage in Acts in which the early church is described.  They had complete unity in all things.  They held on to material possessions loosely so that they could share equally.

How often do I do that?  Today I went outside of my comfort zone a bit to play the piano while we sang.  The worship was rich even if my playing wasn't perfect.  The point isn't my glory--it's the Lord's.  I'm glad my willingness glorified Him.

It makes me wonder what other things I hold on to too tightly.  The list is long.  My prayer is that I can be aware of what things I need to loosen my grasp on so that I can shine God's light to others.

Last Wednesday night I had the unexpected surprise of teaching a missions class (30 minutes) to some kids at church.  I told the kids about it the week before but there wasn't much interest.  I didn't think the class would make.  But it did.  So, for the next 5 weeks I get to teach a handful of really motivated and sweet kids some Spanish.  I love Spanish.  My passion in Spanish is to teach kids that the world is bigger than what we see every day.  There's a world out there that needs to know that Jesus loves them and they need to hear it in a language other than English.

Tonight I'll teach them the numbers and begin with the colors.  We'll also discuss Jesus' love.  It will be a blessing to them but also to me as I get to use my Spanish again.

I'm choosing to loosen my grip a bit on my Spanish skill to share it with the children of our church.  I'm glad I speak and teach Spanish better than I play the piano.

Beauty that doesn't fade

I was reading an article about Soul Beauty in HomeLife Magazine the other day and I wanted to share the message along to you.  The article was written by Dr. Bisignano and I thought by putting it out here, more could be blessed by it and I could add my thoughts as well.

Beauty is often measured by an earthly standard and we often feel lacking.  Our hair isn't right--too curly, too straight or too something else.  Mine is too poofy.  Our bodies aren't right.  Our houses, clothes, cars, etc just don't measure up.  However, Dr Bisignano points out that God has created each woman unique and beautiful.  He looks at us and smiles.

Even more than what the world sees when they look at us, soul beauty comes from the inside and radiates outward.  I see that in my boys when they get really excited about something they're telling me.  Their eyes light up and they just radiate joy. 

Earthly beauty fades;  don't let your identity be found in it.  5 years ago I had no grey.  Now, they're coming with a vengence.  I've always been a redhead and that's part of my identity.  It strikes me that one day, I won't be and it seems like it could be tomorrow.  Yes, I could color my hair but the thought doesn't appeal to me.  I've heard that there's a lot of money, time and effort involved to match red.  As of now, I'm choosing to let the red and grey mix peacefully.  We'll see if that lasts.  All that to say that I'm starting to see that my identity has been wrapped up in my appearance and God's plan is for us to find our identity through godly character.

Lastly, beauty is also found in who you're becoming.  This last point struck me with this season of the year.  I'm in MOPs, Mothers of Preschoolers, and each year we get new Discussion Groups.  Right now, our groups are very young.  We're building the foundation of trust and sharing.  We'll build on these foundations through the year as we share our ups and downs.  I'll be honest--I don't like this stage of relationships.  It's like being on a first date, all awkward and not knowing if you can really invest yet in the other person.  I like the comfort of later in a relationship where there are shared jokes and a peaceful feeling when you're together. 

If you think of relationships like a building, the foundation has to be strong so that the walls and roof can be built.  I love the stained glass--the really sweet moments in relationships when a moment is shared.  I have to remind myself that if I invest in these new relationships, blessings will come.  It's like reaping what we sow.  If I sow the seeds of friendship and connection, I'll reap such benefits before long.

As a parting thought, remember today that you're beautiful.  Your beauty is outward because God only creates beauty but your inward beauty is so much more. Share your beauty.  Use it to radiate God's love to others.

Cake decorating fun

Two weeks ago I had never decorated a cake before.  Didn't think I could do it. 

But instead of cowering in fear of the icing, I attempted a monster truck cake.  It was greatly appreciated by my 3-year-old son.

Today I was a bit more ambitious and decorated for the next birthday boy.  I used a toy truck to sketch out the basic shape, trimmed the cake down for the windshield and iced the details.  I'm very pleased with the result.

My husband's response to it was great:  "Did you get a little hungry?  Did you nibble a bit here off the corner?"  Not quite the comment one hopes to receive for a masterpiece, but I'll survive.

My son's response was also telling as to the interest in my family for the art of cake decorating.  "Mom, is this a pumper truck or a ladder truck?"  Not "Gee thanks, Mom.  This made my day."  Oh well.  That's why I post things on this blog--to share triumphs with the masses so someone out there can nod her head and say, "Good for you, Laura.  You tried something new and succeeded."

Taking a deep breath

I felt guilty yesterday that during Mom's Day Out I just relaxed and read for a bit.  I'm not good at relaxing.  At all.  I feel like I should always be charging forward, making this world a better place.  I'm slowly learning that when I take the time to stop, recharge my batteries and get rested, I'm much more effective and pleasant to be around when I do charge forward again.

Last weekend my brother got married.  Joyous event, but with my 3 young kids with me, I had to do a lot of herding and shushing instead of just enjoying the moment as I would have liked.  Taking the time to take a deep breath yesterday helped me recharge my batteries that got pretty depleted with the kid wrangling and managing family dynamics.

My big boys are also in soccer for the first time.  It's not easy.  They're not used to standing still and being in one place for set periods of time.  They're also not at all used to ball control which causes lots of frustration for them and I cringe on the side lines as I watch them.

I'm learning an important lesson with this:  not being great at something is a hard lesson for them to learn and a hard thing for me to watch.  However, this is life.  I know people who are really gifted at one thing and they love it.  I, on the other hand, am OK at many things, but I love those things.  I'm not a great pianist, but I love playing.  It makes me happy.  I love tennis and it's fun for me to bounce a ball off the garage door while the boys play.  I wouldn't win a match against anyone except from time to time the Wii, but I like it.  I want my boys to learn that this world is full of lots of things to enjoy but it's OK to just have fun with them.

Cake decorating success!

This isn't my cake.  This is taken from Pinterest.  A kind mom shared this loveliness and from it I draw my inspiration.

I'm decorating a sheet cake as a monster truck cake.  This isn't complicated in my mind.  Bake sheet cake, ice it, decorate it with toy trucks.

How did I mess up the first step?  I baked the cake a day in advance, knowing the cake had to cool.  Yet today when I turned the sheet cake over to pop it out onto the cooling rack, about 1/4 stayed in the pan and made an ugly crater.  Mom later told me I probably didn't cook it quite long enough.  Good to file away for future cake adventures.

What to do?  Choices:  Laugh.  Cry.  Be embarrassed in front of my parents who will be here for supper.  Happily, the cake I've chosen to emulate seems pretty forgiving, even with a huge chunk missing from the cake.  My plan now:  ice the sides green, spread brown over the top and do some fanciness in green.  Here's hoping I don't make a huge mess.

It all worked out just fine as you can see above.  I chose to skip the green sides.  This icing took less than 5 minutes.  I stuck the flag and trucks on just before it was cake time.  Magic!  The boys loved it!  Of course, all 3 boys were much more taken with playing with the new monster trucks than eating the actual cake, but I know my audience.

At bedtime I asked the birthday boy what his favorite thing about his birthday was.  "My cake, Mommy."  The goal was to decorate cakes.  I won't pretend I don't have any room for improvement, but the family thought the cake was great and I did, too.  Success!