Surprise packages

I saw this the other day:

And this:

And this one too:

Maybe it’s like a horoscope – vague enough that you can easily read it and think it fits your situation.

Maybe you only see what you want to see.

My friends on Facebook and Pinterest have been sharing lots of interesting tidbits recently. The IDSC posted a heartbreaking story about pregnancy screenings and mothers who choose to abort based on them. My friend Darcie posted about her daughter (who also happens to have Down syndrome), who thanked her mother for growing her. These things made me think back to when I was expecting Annabelle, and faced with the same decision – to screen or not to screen. I knew that she was my baby no matter what the test results, so my only question for my doctor was if the results could help in some way, the knowing in advance. He said that he and his wife never had the tests done themselves, and that was good enough for me. He’s a wonderful man and I trust him implicitly. His exact words were that they ‘vowed to love, feed, clothe, and take to church whomever God sent’, and no test would change that. {That, my friends, is a keeper}

Or maybe, as a friend suggested, they are all little signs that God was sending me, and I just didn’t know it at the time.

Signs to pave the way – prepare my heart, my mind, my attitude.

My family.

The girls have been, out of the blue, incessantly talking about babies. They’ve been looking at an old baby magazine my sister gave me when I was first expecting, fascinated by the pictures of the developing babies.

“It looks like an alien!”

“The heart beats when the baby is less than three weeks old!”

“Mom, this is SO cool!”

‘Yes dear it is,’ came my reply, and then silently in my head I added ‘and thank God that part of my life is over.’

I’m not a baby person, you see. I loved my own daughters when they were babies, of course. Babies of the World. And I even like other people’s babies, whom I can see and play with and then leave. But I don’t miss that stage even a tiny little bit. No more diapers, no more car seats, no more sleepless nights. Kids who can make their own breakfast and let me shower alone are where it’s at, and almost every day I think something along the lines of ‘I am *so* glad all that baby stuff is behind us.’

We have nothing baby left – not even anything toddler. I’ve cleaned house completely. No more maternity clothes, no more bulky plastic toys, no more strollers. And no pile of money available for any such cause, either. These days our ‘disposable’ income is all about medical bills, baby – Lilly’s eyes, Chris’s back.

Somewhere up there, God is having a hearty laugh at the plans we made. What we thought we knew.

Bwahahahaha!

I can almost hear Him. I imagine this to look something like my Pap, laughing ’til he’s red in the face, and then shaking his head at my foolishness. As if something like a semi-permanent 99.9% effective birth control method that is equally effective as having your tubes tied could change His plans for us.

As if it matters that I am old, or that we are unprepared.

That this is a very high risk situation, for both baby and momma, with lots of difficult decisions and scary possibilities to face.

Still, here we are, dazed and shocked and completely uncertain about everything…except that I am pregnant. Oh so very pregnant.

I saw this shirt and thought, ‘I need someone to buy this for me.’

{I can’t, obviously, because I have to buy the crib and the carseat and all that other stuff. Again.}

But in actuality it isn’t quite right, because I’m not really expecting baby #4. No, no – that would be too easy. Sometimes, when God wants to teach you something, instead of whispering, He chooses to smack you upside the head with it.

So I’m expecting babies #4 AND #5.

Not even kidding.

Well played, God. Well played.

All I can say {Just Write}

Mood music (in case you care what I’m thinking about while I write):

I’m not sure exactly what age I would have said it was, but definitely before the age I am now, I thought I would have all my crap together. I would know what I was doing. I would have all the answers to my kids questions, and I would know what the heck I am doing with my own life to boot.

I’d finally be a morning person, early to bed, early to rise…morning workout and devotion and quick shower before I even thought about waking the kids.

I thought I’d be the kind of mom who cooked hot breakfasts every day, and packed fancy bento lunches. I’d have a healthy snack ready and waiting after school so we could talk about our respective days, and my kids would cheerfully do their homework while I cooked a nice dinner.

I thought I would be raising little people who loved each other – really loved. Little Women kind of loved.

I thought I would be fit and fashionable, organized and confident. I thought I would have time for housekeeping and lunch with friends and football every weekend.

I thought I would have found where I belong.

I thought I would write more. Travel more. Love more.

I thought I’d be a better wife, better mother, better friend.

I thought I would be something else entirely.

Obviously I knew nothing.

I can’t ever answer their questions without the help of Google.

{Thank you Jesus for my smartphone}

I’m still up until 3 or 4 in the morning, and the last time I woke up and ran and studied and hit the shower all before 8am, I was in college.

I never make a hot breakfast on a weekday unless it’s microwaved. I never cut fruit into stars and hearts. I forget to make the snack and stare into the fridge randomly tossing out suggestions.

Cottage cheese? Apple? Half of a leftover baked potato?

They fight and whine and cry when they do homework. And when they do everything else, too. The only Little Women scenes we have in this house are of the Amy-burning-Jo’s-manuscript variety.

I can barely find time to do the laundry, let alone workout to look good in the fashionable clothes I can’t be bothered to shop for or wear.

Ok, I make time for football. Screw everything else when football is on.

I still don’t know where I belong. Every time I thought I’ve found it, the ground shifts beneath me.

Kids mean responsibilities. I do PTO, school committees, girl scouts, sports, dance, music, church, bible studies…what I don’t do is anything else. No writing. No travel. No luxuries like pedicures or nights out with friends or two freaking seconds to myself without someone interrupting me.

I was never a good wife.

At best a mediocre friend.

My kids seem to be kind to people who aren’t their sisters, so there is that.

I’m not at all what I thought I would be.

And this isn’t one of those feel-good posts that tells you how wonderful it is that things didn’t go the way I planned.

I’m not sure I’m ok with this at all.

And I’m not sure what I’m going to do about it, either.

*Linked to Just Write

Breaking my silence

Whew! I’m glad that is over. I’ve had a lot to say, and no way to say it!

I took a hiatus, as you may have noticed. I promised myself that I’d take the summer off and completely enjoy my precious children, and enjoy them I did.

While I was gone, there were trips taken and memories made. Swimming and slip-n-sliding and many, many popsicles eaten. A few Big Moments, but mostly lots of little ones, which are precisely my favorite kind of moments.

A few highlights:

~The day I treated everyone to a strawberry limeade, and while we were in the drive-thru line Annie asked me if I could roll down her window. There was a bus parked nearby that was unloading soldiers, and she leaned out the window to call to those passing by. “Thank you for keeping our country safe!” My heart swelled. This is a very good kid.

~Catie? No longer shy. In the slightest. She talks 90 miles an hour to anyone who will listen, telling perfect strangers about our dinner plans or her loose tooth or the play that her sister is in. The child is Out There in a big way these days, which is something I wasn’t sure would ever happen, given her previous inclination to hide under my skirt in pretty much any social situation.

~It’s too early to be sure, but it seems Lilly, at four-and-a-half, may finally have gotten the hang of putting her shoes on the right feet. Everyone please find something wooden to knock on, so we don’t spoil it. This has been a long journey – the child even wore flip flops on the wrong feet, with the strap between the wrong toes. It pains me just to think of it.

~The county fair! I know many people mock them, but I really love ours. The girls and I do lots of baking and sewing and drawing and flower cutting and photograph taking, and we enter as many categories as we can. The result? Lots of ribbons, and enough prize money to pay for our night at the fair. This year Annie and Catie were tall enough to ride lots of things they’ve never ridden before, and they were delighted! A very good, very late night was had by all.

We’ve enjoyed tea parties and day trips and lots and lots of craft projects. There’s been a lot of staying up late and very little sleeping in, and s’mores on more than one occasion.

Lightning bugs were caught, stars were wished upon, and a little camping was done.

And every day, I was very, very thankful to have these precious girls to spend it with.

I am blessed beyond measure.

Spilled Milk {Wordless Wednesday}

Alternate title: How I knew my day was going to suck

Woke up to the sounds of a brand-new gallon crashing and a 5 year old shrieking. Happy Wednesday y’all!

This post is part of Wordless Wednesday from 5 Minutes for Mom.

A special day for a special girl

She was the baby I didn’t even know I needed, and now she completes me in a way I never knew possible.

From the day she was born

she has held my heart in her tiny pink hand.

She mesmerized her GG.

And other people were ‘impressed of her’ too.

They are the sweetest of sisters

and the best of friends.

They share everyday moments

and extra-special adventures

and they don’t even mind when she hogs the spotlight.

She does that quite a bit.

This little girl is friendly

and adventurous

and silly

and one day she will change the world.

I know this because she has already changed mine.

And it’s an exhausting task.

But I know she’s up for it.

She can do anything.

Baby Mine.

There is a little girl in my house who is growing way too fast. And today that girl is 4.

Happy Birthday pumpkin. Sweet Petunia. Silly Lilly.

Happy Birthday to my baby.

I love you to the moon and back.

Sewing up a storm

In case you haven’t noticed, I’m struggling to post here. Not for lack of fodder – I’ve got loads of things I’d love to tell you about. It’s lack of time that gets me. Always.

I’m solidly in white rabbit mode, busy with Christmas gift making. You know, the stuff that I do every year up until 3pm on Christmas Eve, and swear I will do differently the next year, and then never do?  That.

We made card stock ‘stockings’ with candy canes and an invite to join us at church on Christmas Eve, and hung them on all the doorknobs in our neighborhood.

I’ve been making crayon rolls for the girls’ classmates at school:

and peppermint sucker covers for the Girl Scout troops:

I’ve made 3 baby dolls:

1 1/2 doll quilts:

And endless doll clothes.

There have been baby presents like burp cloths and pillows:

and of course some very special Christmas jammies.

I’ve made ‘something specials’ for the Angel Tree child, the mailman, the pastor, the significant others.

I’ve done potholders and placemats for my mother-in-law.

I’ve even got something on its way to Finland! {Arriving late, natch}

And what I just finished? The best gift of them all.

This is for my very dear Granny Goose-in-law. Her husband died 20+ years ago and she misses him terribly, so I used old pictures of them – printed on fabric, and sewn with love into a quilt for her. This is the present I am most excited to give this year, and I can’t wait for her to open it.

I finished it at 4:46 this morning, so you can imagine how tired I am right now. With 1 1/2 doll quilts still to be done today.

<sigh>

I’ve really enjoyed sitting down with a cup of coffee and mentally connecting with you again, dear readers, even if only for a moment. I will back again soon. Promise.

I just have to dig myself out first.

{Yes, it really is that bad.}

Easily Amused

I’m busy-busy-busy, but lest you think I’ve forgotten you forever, I wanted to share a few things that made me chuckle this week.

We’ve had 4 snow days already this season so I’ve been enjoying more time than usual with my school aged daughters. I love to listen in on their conversations with each other. There are definitely ugly, fighting moments, but thankfully those are few and far between.  I mostly hear loving exchanges – compliments shared, secrets whispered. The kind of sister memories I’ve always wanted my girls to have.

And then there are the funnies. Funnier still because they don’t intend to be funny at all.  A few recent examples:

Annie: That is the Hispanic Barbie.

Catie: What’s ‘Hispanic’?

Annie: It’s fancy for Mexican.

—————————————————————–

In the car, Lilly talking incessantly over the Christmas CD

Catie: Shush!

Lilly: Hey! I’m trying to talk!

Catie: Well I want to hear the music.

Lilly: That’s rude!

Catie: Christmas is about the birth of baby Jesus so shut your mouth and celebrate Him!

—————————————————————–

I’ve tried to explain the concept of personal space to the girls using a hula hoop as a visual. ‘Imagine everyone is wearing an invisible hula hoop, so you can’t get closer to them than the hoop would allow.’ (Genius right?)

Lilly: You’re in my bubble.

Catie: I was trying to give you a hug!

Lilly: Then hurry up and give me a hug and put your hula hoop back on!

———————————————————————-

Annie, singing It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

“Peace on the Earth and good will toward man, from heaven’s outrageous King…”

———————————————————————-

Catie takes a turn playing teacher

Catie: Who was born on Christmas?

Lilly: Baby Jesus

Catie: And why did baby Jesus come to earth?

Lilly: To save us from Satan’s power when we were going to play.

{God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen – ‘to save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray’}

———————————————————————–

Lilly only ever refers to Jesus as baby Jesus. I think she must be the offspring of Ricky Bobby.

“Baby Jesus loves us”

“Baby Jesus died on the cross”

I’m just waiting for her to pray ‘Dear 8 pound 6 ounce baby Jesus in a manger…’

————————————————————————

I didn’t laugh nearly as much before they came along.

I love these little people.

They complete me.

{We eschew the natural smile in this family. Clearly.}

Makeover Monday: Snacking Edition

Makeover Monday has been moved to Tuesday this week, because that’s the way I roll.  I’m crazy like that.

It’s a mini-makeover too, so don’t get too excited.

And also it’s not even my idea.

I stole it from my friend Rachel, who should totally have her own blog, BTW.

But I’m giving her credit.  And in the Flawed etiquette of blogging book, it’s okay to steal ideas and blog about them as long as you don’t pretend that they are your own.

It’s all good.

So for the real issue – it’s snack foods.  More specifically, the lack of them in my house.

My kids are always asking for a snack, and I’m digging through the cabinets all ‘How about a can of tuna? Half of a Fiber One bar? Oatmeal?’ and then they look at me like I’m crazy and tell me how much better it is to be at Grama’s house.  In which case I’m all ‘heck-to-the-yeah it is, because Grama turns you loose with the sugar bowl and cuts of endless hunks of cheese to have with your crackers, and Pappap hasn’t ever seen you in your entire life without bringing you a chocolate bar, which equals a pretty darn fine existence in the life of a child and maybe I should move there too.’

Responsible parenting note: I don’t actually say heck-to-the-yeah in front of my children, but I do say crap, which apparently Catie also said in children’s church last week, which sent another boy in children’s church into a tizzy over the bad words she was bandying about.  Whoops! And also yes, when I am saying this in my head I am actually saying heck.  Much like OMG=OhMyGosh in my world.

So yeah, snacks. We need ‘em.

I’ve had a vague mental note in my head for weeks – ‘Buy snacks’ – but even when I get to the store I don’t know what to do with that information.  Why can’t they just eat an apple or some grapes?  Which they do, totally.  My good little eaters even eat raw spinach as a snack sometimes.  But I guess they’d like carbs now and again, too, and who am I to deny them that pleasure when I know full well it’s my nature causing this desire of theirs.  Or nurture – whatever.  Carbs are good.

A while back (okay, like a year ago – I’m a procrastinator) I noticed that my friend Rachel has a brilliant snack system in her house.  Naturally I felt the need to be just like her, because she’s pretty awesome.

Full disclosure: Because she is pretty awesome, she probably has this snack system for noble reasons.  To foster independence in her children, to have nutritious, perfectly portioned snacks on the ready at all times, to feed homeless passers-by on a moment’s notice.  Me?  I wanted the snack system because my kids annoy the crap out of me interrupting 400 times a day asking me to feed them, and I need to focus on my YouTube video watching writing without distraction.  It’s NaNo month, you know. And also you’re 3 now, Lilly, and I think we can all agree that you need to be able to handle these things on your own.  Now go pour mommy another cup of coffee and be quiet.

The hardest part of this idea for me was finding the properly sized containers.  I settled on these from Glad, for which I paid $2 for a set of 8.

For my first go-round, I purchased pretzels and Goldfish crackers.  Except I’m cheap and they are generic Goldfish. Whales.

Filled at random and tossed into a dollar store bucket, this is my end result:

Cue the cacophony of oohs and aahs.  Genius right?

In my idea-stealing observation, Rachel also uses popcorn in her tubs.  I’ll do a better job of spying the next time I’m in her kitchen and get back to you with other ideas.

I do have slightly less than a quarter ton of Halloween candy here, if you’d like to use some of that.

I was so proud of this blatant theft project, and yet ironically I forgot to tell the children that I even did it, so the snacks have sat untouched for a week.  Whoops.

I’m sure when I mention it to them tomorrow they will be thrilled and praise me Rachel for her brilliance and then eat all 16 containers in one sitting, completely defeating the purpose of the tub-o-Mommy’s-freedom.  I look forward to that.

Until then, feel free to copy the idea in your own home.

I’m sure Rachel won’t mind.

Halloween fun!

I really love Halloween.

It’s sort of an odd fit, given that I’m a Christian and the holiday is a little, um, less-than-Christian.  But who really thinks about the meaning of Halloween?  (If you do, now would be an excellent time to not point that out to me.)

For me it’s all about the costumes.  And the candy. And yes, even the decor, though I do abstain from witches and devils and the like.

I revel in the creative, fantastical nature of the day.  In years past we have always done family themed costumes – last year we were all Superheroes, for example.  But I started to feel that this was stifling the girls’ creativity.  When they asked to do Toy Story this year I had to put my foot down.  It’s such a cop-out!  Grab some commercial movie and store-bought costumes?  Please!  We can do better than that!

Longing for the Halloweens of my youth, I wanted the girls to be more unique.  I took them to the fabric store individually and let them choose their costume.  They pored through the pattern books until they found that perfect, just-right costume idea, and then we chose the fabric to make their choices come to life.

Many dollars and many hours later, here is what we ended up with.

Annie chose Laura Ingalls (Little House on the Prairie):

(I realize now that I didn’t take any pictures of her by her herself. Whoops! So here she is with her friend Tramell – ie, the boy she plans to marry.)

Catie opted for Little Red Riding Hood – a pattern that (sadly) I had to modify quite a bit to remove the slutty factor.  It’s bad enough that teenage girls dress this way – do we really have to encourage Kindergartners to do it as well? Prostitots.

Sorry – got sidetracked. The picture:

And Lilly picked a period dress – very Martha Washington.  I was at a loss to explain why she might want to be Martha Washington, but I was happy to oblige.

It wasn’t until the dress was done and she was slipping on her fourth pettiskirt (to make it extra full) that I realized my mistake.  “I Lificity!” she exclaimed.  ‘A-ha!’ I thought.

For the rest of you that are still lost, that’s Lilly-speak for Felicity, the American Girl doll.

And the whole crew, heading out to Trunk-and-Treat.

And now we need a new home for the 15 pounds of candy they collected.  They never eat it all!  I’m sure we’re not the only ones who throw away Halloween candy a year later.

Oh – and the boo! Can’t forget the boo!  Our neighborhood was late going this year, but the week before Halloween we were all out in full force.  I love Booing!

And finally, I have to brag on my girls.  Their school did a storybook pumpkin contest and Annie got Honorable Mention for her Magic School Bus:

And Catie won the ‘Most Original’ category!

And now I am thankful that this is all past us and I can relax start working on Christmas presents.

The fun never ends.

And today I learned…

How to do some techie stuff on the blog.

Grrrrrr….so annoyed that I had an idea and everything, and yet I still couldn’t get on here to put words to screen.  Appears to be a random issue with my auto-backup plugin.

It would be more impressive if I could give this an actual name, instead of ‘techie stuff’.

But I didn’t learn an actual name for it.  I only learned how to take myself from ‘offline’ to ‘online’.  And this in the midst of cleaning up many, many throw-up messes made by many two children.

But it felt like more than two.

So after dealing with the sickies and figuring out the techie stuff that didImentionIhate? I sorta lost my enthusiasm for blogging today.

Fail.

Let’s hope child #3 doesn’t get sick as well, and maybe I’ll have something more in the future.

Annie is the lucky one, by the way.

So far.