Gifts

I doubt that the Mayans (haha. . .) had New Year's Day on their calendar. I really don't know how it originated--maybe it was the brainchild of Richard Simmons to sell workout tapes? I know it's a hot time of year for diet books and gym memberships. . . And despite that (ha), I love New Year's. There's just something about the promise and hope of a new year. In all honesty, January 1 is no different than December 31--every day should be a new start, a clean slate. But it truly feels magical watching that ball drop, toasting those you love, and passing around lots of kisses (I love that we share this night with our babies too!) It's a chance to wish on the upcoming year, work on those resolutions (that we may or may not keep. . .) and wait for what God has in store.

At first glance, our past year was pretty uneventful. Some may even say "boring." There were no extravagant purchases or vacations. No major milestones or moments. No surprises or announcements. Which made it a GREAT year. I'm learning more and more to welcome and embrace the daily grind. Life is made up mostly of little, day-to-day moments and only broken up every once in a while by something "big." One of my constant resolutions is to focus on those little things. They're not always easy to acknowledge, but every night, I thank God for the blessings of the day that went unnoticed. Those are the true, quiet gifts that make up life. And in looking back over the past year, we were definitely blessed.

Our 2012 Gifts:

• Keke started a new daycare in February, which has turned out to be the BIGGEST blessing. This isn't the best picture but there she is in the middle-right, singing her little heart out during the Christmas program.  Boy did she sing!  I love that in this pic, the little boy standing in front of her is turned around to see where all that noise is coming from.  HA!  Thank you, God, for opening doors!  

• We became a diaper free household this year. . . hopefully in 2013 we can master the "staying dry overnight" thing. Oops.
• Sassy started first grade and she's had another great year.  Her big news of the year is that she has three less baby teeth in her mouth and a few extra bills in her piggy bank. :)
• Our new baby niece E was born in June, and we got to be her godparents a few months later.  Love her!
• We enjoyed lots of little getaways with family and friends--SUCH a fun summer!
• Baby S was born in November on the other side of the family--the girls are so excited to get a B cousin!!!  And that familiar, dark gorgeous hair makes this mama melt. . . .   (But not enough to conquer diapers again--sorry, aunties!)  

• We had one auntie, uncle and cousin move only two hours from us--YAY!--and one auntie and uncle move 1,000+ miles away--BOO. . . . but YAY for all of the amazing adventures they'll have and the trips we'll get to take!  Like Disneyland!  :)  We're excited to get together with the S Family more and happy for the O Family.  So fun to see what God has planned for our loved ones!
• We refinanced the house so maybe 2013 will be the year that we finish the basement. . . and dare I say, get rid of the blue toilet?!?  I almost hate to see it go.  I mean, we just moved here.  NINE years ago!!!  Nine years, really?  Can't believe we've been here that long.

We're excited to see what else 2013 brings.  Stay tuned for pictures of a (HOPEFULLY) white toilet.  And if you're in the market for a blue one, Hubby says he's putting it on eBay.  :)  Happy New Year!  

When Bad Things Happen

Nearly five years ago to the date, we rolled our truck on the way to our friends' house. I'll never forget seeing everything in slow motion as we approached the ditch, the horrific thud and crash, and then the seemingly never-ending silence before Sassy started screaming bloody murder. By the grace of God and our seatbelts, we were fine. R and I had scratches and bruises, but Sassy was unscathed. It didn't hit me until we got home. We tucked her in and I sat down on the couch and sobbed. I realized how fast everything could change. We could have been going to the morgue instead of putting our baby in bed. Instead, it was just a regular Saturday night like all the others before. We just needed a new truck.

Six weeks later my brother died unexpectedly. Just over a year later, we lost my niece. I remember sitting in the waiting room, leaning over and just letting my big fat tears fall on the floor. I was racked with grief, disbelief, sorrow and guilt--I was leaning over a five-month pregnant belly. I remember looking around at my broken family and telling God I was done. The God I trusted couldn't have let all of this happen to us.

Thankfully I didn't veer too far, and I hope that God has forgiven me for giving up on Him. I've grown a lot over the last few years, and I hope to grow even more in the future. R and I are doing a study group at church where we're watching a documentary series on Catholicism. Our meeting a few weeks ago focused on the existence of God and why bad things happen if there's a God. It of course didn't explain everything, but I loved this analogy.

The artist Georges Seurat did this entire painting in dots. As we watched the DVD, the camera was zoomed in on ONE dot and it was just a brown blob. Then they panned out a little bit and it was a few dots. Then they panned out a little more and it was a nose. Then a little more. A man's face. A little more. An entire man. Finally, the whole painting was in view. The priest on the DVD said that we have to remember that in our own little world, we might just be able to see dots. We have no idea that others see different dots. Or that they all work together to create the masterpiece that God has created. We have to trust that He sees everything we can't.

Last weekend's school shooting has made me question Him yet again. I think it's hit me even harder because we have a six year old, and school is one place where she should always feel safe and loved. Facebook has been bombarded by people who are praying for Newtown, but there are also plenty who want to know where God was and how He could permit this to happen. I don't have the answers, and I don't know why my own family has had more than its fair share of loss. But I have to believe once again, that this is the same God who stood by when His son died. A friend of mine said there's a statue of Jesus across from the OKC building that was bombed in 1995. He's turned away from the building with His face in His hands and it says, "And Jesus Wept."

I'm holding my babies a little closer this week, even though I've seen how fast things can change. Unfortunately, it's hard to truly live each day to its fullest and not take things for granted. Real life gets in the way and it's way too easy to get mad about the toys left in the hallway or the towel that never stays on the rack or the refrigerator that's always open. And right now, to be honest, I'm a little "blah" because both girls are under the weather, I took off today, I may have to take off tomorrow and holiday plans are up in the air. But if I stop and take a deep breath--I'm blessed. I still get to tuck my babies in tonight and pray with them. We'll pray to a God who's always working on that perfect masterpiece--and we teeny little dots don't have to understand.

All in the Family

In-laws get a bad rap. We all know the (appropiately enough) in-laws from Kansas who show up unannounced at Christmas. "That there is an RV, Clark. . . ." Everybody Loves Raymond based an entire show on living across the street from your mother-in-law. (And to say it wasn't pretty is putting it mildly. Can you even imagine having Marie as a mother-in-law?) There are houses with "mother-in-law quarters". . . because they can't possibly share any breathing room with us. . . And the jokes and the stereotypes go on, and on, and on. After eleven years of marriage, I finally hosted my first Thanksgiving last week. The in-laws were here for five days. And we had a great time. Really. No punchlines or "insert in-law bashing here." Not to say that we haven't had issues--that happens even with blood relatives. It's like anything else: you take the good with the bad, roll with the punches, and somehow muddle through life together.

After fifteen years of knowing my in-laws, I'm learning to appreciate the things I gain from the people I chose when I chose their son:

1. They bring something new--literally--to the table. Is it weird for my Irish mother-in-law to make Chinese noodles for our American Thanksgiving? Yes. Are they tasty? Definitely. And do my kids expect them for holidays now? You bet.

2. All the crafts and projects that I don't have patience for. . . Grandma was BORN to do. The woman sat at our kitchen bar on Saturday for hours with a hot glue gun and a foam nativity scene. The girls came and went but she kept right on working. And it was ok that the donkey's ears were upside down (surely there was something at Jesus's birth that resembled a hamster, wasn't there?) and that the sequins were missing--again. Mama probably wouldn't have been half as calm, cool, and collected.

3. There are 21 years of my husband's life that I'm not a part of. And I love that these people know those stories and can tell my girls. Daddy used to set up snake traps with his imaginary friends, Cowboy and H Pom Poon (Yes, that was really his name. Hey. . . . maybe that's where the Chinese noodle recipe came from. . . ) He fell out of his crib at 18 months and broke his arm. He built the canoe that we take out every summer in the basement of my in-laws' home. Sometimes I forget that once upon a time, the man I love was the little boy that they raised.

4. It's ok to be the bad person. I've gotten upset in the past when I'm JUST the mom and my girls' aunties and grandparents get all the glory. No one wants Mom when they're around, the girls cry when they leave, there aren't any rules until mean old Mommy butts in and makes everyone's lives miserable. Or so it seems. But then I remember that my girls will have lots of aunties, lots of cousins, two grandmas, two papas. . . and one Mom. And I'm not here to spoil them and give them everything they want. It IS about being the bad guy: teaching them right from wrong, helping them make good choices, and making sure they're ready someday to get married and have their own families. And then I can sit back and do foam crafts and spoil their kiddos rotten. :)

5. Even when it's hard, it's worth it. I know we don't always see eye-to-eye and that there's a fair amount of tongue biting from all parties involved, but I'm truly blessed to have these people who raised the man who is raising my babies. I know that part of what made me fall in love with R was loving the family he came from. And I'm so glad that they're a part of my daughters' lives. They can roll up in the R.V. at our place anytime. As long as Chinese noodles are involved.

Back to the Future

Whoever said high school is the best time of your life never went to college. :) I loved college. I've said more than once that I'd go back in a heartbeat. SO many memories of E-town!

Mondays meant 10 cent wings at Noah's.
Thursday was 50 cent tacos at Babe's, and of course, Karaoke.
After singing like a rock star, you could go next door to Lewis and Clark's/Buckets/The Outback. . . Luckily its popularity didn't change like the name. It was always THE place to go.
Then at 2 am, nothing was better than going next door again--Pyramid Pizza. It was even good during daylight hours when you were fully-functioning. :) That braided crust dipped in honey. . . Yes, honey. . .
Godfather's Pizza offered free buffets if you could sink the Nerf ball in the hoop hanging behind the register.
Bruff's had amazing pin tacos and a fun dance floor upstairs.
Turtles had big schooners and shuffleboard tables.
My first date with R was at Coach's. I can still see exactly where we sat and the long sleeves he wore on the last day of April to hide poison ivy. :)
If you could stand the smell of IBP (Iowa Beef Processors) across the highway, Carlos O'Kelly's was the place to go for margaritas and (FREE) baskets of chips and salsa. . . Who needs to order a meal?
The Dugout had cheap pitchers. . . And they didn't really mind if you weren't 21. . . Oops.
Lugens had a big outdoor "beer garden"--seriously cool.
I waited tables at McGillicutty's and learned you shouldn't date a co-worker because it's not fun to work with your ex-boyfriend. . .
At Johnny's, you could have your own mug on the wall (Hubby's self-proclaimed label read "Captain.")

It's really no surprise that the "Freshman 15" exists. . . I'm more shocked that it's not the Freshman 50. Is it sad that so many fun times involved food and. . . beverages?

Last weekend was bittersweet for me. E-Town obviously holds a special place in my life for numerous reasons. It's where I met some of my closest friends. It's where my dream to teach became a reality. It's where I first realized my love for libraries. It's where I met the man I would later marry. Not to mention all the fun! :) It was great to re-live our college memories, but it was also sad to visit our old stomping grounds.

Sitting at the stadium and "people-watching," I realized that it's no longer "OUR" college. This year's freshman are half--HALF--our age. They have no clue who we are--nor do they care. Noah's, Babe's, Lewis and Clark's/Buckets/The Outback, Pyramid Pizza, Godfather's, Turtles, Carlos O'Kelly's, The Dugout, Lugen's and Johnny's. . . . all GONE.

Bruff's and Coach's have both moved to different buildings--which just isn't the same. We tried to re-create our first date last Saturday (minus the poison ivy) but I couldn't shake the feeling that we were in a Mexican restaurant; it wasn't the Coach's I remember. McGillicutty's ironically enough is now La Hacienda. Driving around, I got more and more depressed and finally blurted out, "Why can't it just be 1997 again?!"

And then it hit me. Thank goodness it's not. If it were, I'd still be a 21 year old college girl, not the person I've grown to be. I wouldn't have my babies. I wouldn't have my husband. I wouldn't have THIS life.

E-town is still an awesome college town. And the kids there probably can't imagine life without Natasha's (new bar on Commercial) or Wheat State Pizza (in Godfather's old building--I have to admit it was awesome. Even without the Nerf ball.) They'll have a different set of memories to take with them in four short years.

And at the end of the weekend, I took my own memories with me. No, E-town isn't what it used to be, but neither am I. Luckily though, some things never change. I still got to drive a cute boy home. And this time I didn't just drop him off at the door.

Divine Introduction

I don't know why I'm surprised when a homily at church applies to me--He knows the words I need to hear long before I do. Last Sunday, our priest talked about marriage and how married people are called to fulfill our "assignment." After we say "I do," we need to spend the rest of our lives "getting married." Not just that day. Long after the cake has been cut and the dance is over, we should spend the rest of our lives getting married to each other. (LOVE that!) He then asked: "How did you meet?" which is always a fun, nostalgic trip back in time. And it was VERY fitting because we got to spend this weekend in the college town where we met fifteen years ago.

Since graduating in 1998, I think we've been back to Homecoming once. We usually get the flyer and it goes directly to the trash since it's a four hour drive. Something made me open it this year. And I immediately saw that Doc was retiring. Doc was my husband's mentor in college. R worked as an athletic trainer under Doc for the men's basketball and football teams. After forty six years, Doc finally retired. I knew we had to go. So we left the kids at my parents' and headed out to ESU.

I went to a community college for two years before transferring to ESU. R was in my VERY first class at ESU--which I would have already taken had it been offered at AC. I remember seeing him, but I was dating someone at the time (and so was he.) Then I kept seeing him every Sunday at the Catholic campus center which really impressed me. What kind of guy goes to mass every Sunday when he's away from home? I remember thinking he just looked like a good guy. Flash forward to the next semester. We were both single and I literally ran into him at a club. My two roommates at the time were on the track team and they spent the next few weeks hounding the blonde haired guy in the training room to call me. They came home one night to tell me it was his 21st birthday and he had said that I should come out. Well everyone I knew was either 1) back home for the weekend or 2) staying in because of a track meet the next day. This gal went out to the clubs ALONE just to see R. And then sat at the bar all night and talked to him. (He was taking it easy after living it up the night before when midnight rolled around. ha!) I even made up some lame excuse about my "friends" finding other ways home just so I could give R a lift. He invited me to his birthday party later that weekend, and then an official first date the next week. And here we are.

Last Sunday, Father said that the more important question was not HOW we met, but WHY. WHY did we meet? Why did God bring us together? Looking back, there were so many "coincidences" that had to be God. I should have already had that general ed Developmental Psychology class. I wasn't even supposed to be living with the track girls, but my previous roommate moved in with her boyfriend and I needed a new place to live. (Ironically, my old place was right BEHIND R's complex... ) Why were R and I at the exact same place at the exact same time? Where we just "happened" to bump into each other (and I got to use my oh-so-smooth pick up line: "Hey, weren't you in my Developmental Psych class?) :) I didn't know it at the time, but God was working things the way He always does. Quietly, purposefully, perfectly.

With each passing year, I'm realizing more and more what a gift he is and I'm SO grateful for the chain of events that brought us together. I'm blessed.

I get to spend the rest of my life getting married to that blonde headed trainer from ESU.

Bookworms

I love words. I'm the girl who would sit and read the cereal boxes at breakfast time, got in trouble for bringing a book to the dinner table, and followed along with the readings at mass before I knew what the words said. (I was destined to be a writer . . . or a nun. . . ) To this day, I almost obsessively compulsively consume EVERY word I see. I really thought everyone's brains worked this way until I met my husband who is neither literate nor observant. He doesn't notice any signs, billboards, license plates, announcements, etc. Meanwhile, the letters are flying at me, a mile a minute while I try to process EVERYTHING. (It does sound more than a bit strange now that I, ironically, write it out. . .)

I decided in sixth grade to be a writer. Mr. Brown wrote in my graduation card that he'd never seen talent like mine from another sixth grader. Maybe he wrote it in everyone's cards, but I still have it somewhere--never underestimate the power of a teacher's words! Of course, right before college I got scared that writing wouldn't pay the bills so I did the next best thing--I spent nine years teaching eighth graders HOW to write. I hope someone somewhere is keeping a note that I've forgotten I wrote. I LOVED teaching, but when it came time to consider a master's, I wondered if I should consider another option--just in case. It didn't take long to figure out my other love. In college I realized that while waiting tables WAS paying the bills, it probably wasn't doing much for my resume. So I worked at a public library. WOW. It was an obsessive-compulsive-word-consumer's dream! So here I am, now in my fifth year as a school librarian. In many ways, it's a lot like teaching. Little pay, lots of work, not much glory or glamour. But then a kid comes in and tells me the book I recommended was "UHHH-MAZING!" or kids are fighting to get to the coveted shelves of state award nominees or another kid who has moved on to the high school tells me he misses MY library. And I think: How is it that I'm getting PAID to do what I love?

And I'm proud to report that my love of words lives on in my girls. Forgive me for a moment because I'm going to be one of those moms. Sassy just started first grade and she's devouring Magic Treehouse books. She really took off this summer and I would catch her reading nonstop. It's been so fun to see her beg for bedtime so she can read “one more chapter.” She's read 17 books so far at school this year—and most are nonfiction that are right at a 4th grade reading level. I love the notes that her teacher writes across the reports: “Holy canoli!” “You've got to be kidding me!” “What? Saaaweeeet!” Several are on the fridge—again, the power of a teacher's words!

And Keke goes to bed each night with a huge stack which is great until I remember the morning of that our library books are due and I've got a flashlight and an arm shoved down between her bed and the wall looking for missing books. I'm almost certain that we returned one of those books with some birthday money left in it, but that's a different story. . . . At night after I've tucked them in, I hear Sassy reading her book out loud and Keke “reading” hers to all the toys in her bed.

I keep saying that “someday” I'll write that book I've always wanted to write. But for now it's pretty cool to share my love of books during the day with middle school kids. . . . and even better to share it with the two little people waiting each night on my couch.

Weekend Woes

I've decided that we could have prevented this summer's drought had we just camped every day. Yes, we attempted to camp this weekend. To our credit, it was supposed to be beautiful and then the dang weathermen changed the forecast on Thursday. Friday night was actually great. R and I sat around the campfire until about 1 am and the weather was PERFECT. It was that "crisp, cool, need a sweatshirt and a fire" kind of night. Ahhhhhh. Of course, that all came to a screeching halt when it started raining a few hours later. It was that "steady, constant, not quite a downpour but not gonna stop any time soon" kind of rain. Which was still going strong at 10 am when we finally pulled out. Bleh. It was our shortest camping trip ever but there were plenty of moments to remember.

1. When my newly potty trained little lady woke at 5:45 to tell me she had to pee, I quickly won the "Worst Mommy Moment" award. It was raining, it was early, I was warm and sleepy. "You have a pull-up on. Just go." Even worse is that she did and didn't bat an eye. I think an hour later when Big Sis and I needed to go (next time maybe we'll all wear pull-ups) I changed her. Go ahead, judge me. I totally would. :)

2. The tent leaked a little, nothing like before and we all stayed dry. However, the girls still wanted to climb up onto our cots. I commented that there didn't seem to be as much room this time with KeKe on there (She's declared that she doesn't like "Stinkus" anymore.) Sassy: "I know! I think Dad must have gained some more weight." Oh my. I laughed. And laughed.

3. A little while later when Daddy and Sassy got up, KeKe ran over to grab the empty cot. She hunkered down in the sleeping bag, sniffed the air rather dramatically and announced: "I smell toot. . . Daaaaaaaaddddddd!" HAHAHAHA! Poor Daddy.

4. I was pleasantly surprised that despite waking up at 5:45, the girls kept themselves busy while R and I "slept in." It was pretty sweet to see them laying in bed reading, coloring, and playing board games. And even sweeter to roll over and doze for a little while later. Too bad I didn't have a pull-up on. I could have made it for HOURS.

5. Despite all the stuff I packed, it was inevitable for boredom to set in. And when it did, apparently our girls see cots and an air mattress as WWF arenas. Sometimes I'm not sure we truly had girls. They were jumping off the cots, body slamming each other, leg wrestling. You name it. Of course, it was great incentive for me to get the cots and mattress packed up. . .

6. I realized once again how very blessed we are to have R. He made umpteen trips back and forth to the tent to load everything up, carried the girls under a poncho, and then while we three sat in the truck, he took the entire tent down in that "steady, constant, not quite a downpour but not gonna stop any time soon" kind of rain. I looked out at one point, and my dear husband was LAUGHING. Laughing. I opened the door quickly--yikes, I'm getting wet!--and yelled, "What are you laughing at?!" He turned with the most beautiful grin and shrugged: "What are you gonna do?" I was so touched by his attitude. Had the shoe been on the other foot, I would have been snapping tent poles, throwing, kicking, cursing, and wadding the whole thing up in a giant mess. But there was R. Laughing. And ever so carefully taking everything apart, folding it up, and loading everything as if it was the most beautiful day ever. And he's right--What are you gonna do? Not like we could control the weather. I'm so grateful for him. The day could have been so much different had he let it ruin his mood.

7. On the drive home, we were all kind of in a funk about having to pack up. Sassy was crying because she had wanted to make campfire donuts, so then I bribed her with Sonic French toast sticks before I remembered that we had two kayaks strapped to the top of the truck and fitting under the roof at Sonic probably wouldn't happen. Cue more tears. . . Then we came up on a wreck that looked pretty bad. And suddenly our "bad day" wasn't anything close to a bad day. We were all together and we were safe, just a little soggy and tired.

8. Home sweet home only lasted about an hour. Right after we fixed our "camp" breakfast in the kitchen, but BEFORE we had showers, the power went out. I wish I was kidding. Luckily it came back on about thirty minutes later. And I'd had some coffee so it was a little easier to take. :)

9. I'm pretty sure I jinxed us with the rain because I started packing really early in the week and I'm almost positive that we didn't forget anything this time. Next time we plan a trip, I'll be sure to procrastinate and forget something like I usually do.

10. We still got together with the friends that we had planned to camp with--after all, we already had dinner and dessert planned! It was great to catch up, even if we weren't gathered around a campfire. We may TRY to go again this fall--summer seems too far away!--but it might stay too cool. And I'm sure it will rain.