Say It Enough, You'll Start to Believe It
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The two year old has morphed into a two year old seemingly overnight. Where he once was compliant and sweet natured, he is now often beligerant and feisty. He is experiencing discipline to its fullness here lately, including his first ever time out.
Stubborn Resignation
Shame
Guilt
Deep Thought
Is that remorse? Uh...I'm not sure that it is.
It's a good thing he's so cute.
Happy Wednesday!
Tia had school yesterday – Sloan did not. So I went back and forth about whether or not we should go to the Zoo after Tia went to school or whether she should just skip school and we could go in the morning.
I decided that it wouldn’t kill her to miss a day of preschool, so we headed out to the Zoo around 8:30 yesterday morning. Best. decision. ever. The Zoo was virtually empty when we arrived, which is a good thing when you have three kids who all like to run in different directions.
By 12:15 when we left, however, the Zoo was…well – a zoo! I knew it was time to leave when every time I turned around to check on Landon (who insists on walking about 15 paces behind us at all freaking times) he was out of my line of sight due to being swept up in large groups of people. After my third heart attack, I decided to call it a day.
So we bopped out of the park and jumped in our car, which was parked right up front and headed out past the endless line of cars waiting to park.
There's nothing like picking your nose on a train ride. You should try it sometime...
Becke', I tried to get a picture of his bootie for you but he wouldn't turn. 🙂
After selling much of my childhood and pieces of my parents souls on Craig’s List, I finally made enough money to purchse the one thing I’ve desired for awhile now. A good camera.
My parents are moving from their home of 13 years into a small condo. It’s a good thing. It’s the right decision. But it means getting rid of many of the items that I grew up with. Furniture and decorations that have graced the houses of my parents different homes for most of my life. It’s hard – not as hard for me since I have been living on my own for a long time – but definately hard for them.
My mom was sweet enough to let me post and sell her stuff and, as a reward, split the money she made fifty-fifty. And thus my brand, spanking new camera. My magic camera that actually takes the pictures I want it to take. And I’ve had a good time taking said pictures this weekend.
Yesterday we went to my parents house for one last holiday meal. And we all tried to keep it light when discussing their move, because if we started talking too seriously, the tears would begin to flow. So we laughed and joked, but inside we were all feeling a bit sentimental. Change is never easy, even if it’s necessary.
Despite the emotions, however, we had a wonderful day. The weather was perfect, the kids were well behaved and I was able to document it all just the way I wanted to…
Here is a little collage of our Easter Sunday:
Click on the image to see a larger view.
And, of course, here are a few more pictures from the weekend. The camera has been practically attached to my hand…
Blurred background! That was the one thing I wanted in a camera - the ability to actually focus on what I wanted to focus on.
We had a crazy week with several nights of late bedtimes. Which means Landon did a lot of this Saturday morning when we went to Forest Park.
Poor boy. His parents need to get him a haircut. He's looking like a mushroom head...
We’re going to the Zoo today so look forward to more pictures tomorrow!
Today’s post for STL Family Life is up. Go check it out and let me know what you think!
I came across these sweet videos the other day and my heart melted. My babies are growing up too fast. I never thought I’d be the type of person to say that and get all weepy, but it does make me a little sad. Those stages go by so fast. How is it they are aging so quickly and I am staying the exact. same. age?
Weird.
As I lay in bed this morning, trying desperately to pry my eyelids open, I couldn’t help but correlate the emotions I feel about my children aging with the emotions that this particular day bring about. Happy and Sad. Good and Bad. Gratefulness and Humility.
Today is the day we remember and observe the sacrifice of Christ. It is heavy. It is hard. It is “the sad part,” as Sloan told us this morning. In fact, he got up early and drew us a picture:
Notice the top corner says "Sad Port"
If you look closely, the picture shows Jesus on the cross. The two people on the right are the soldiers who crucified him and they are laughing. On the left are Mary and Joseph and they are crying. And on Jesus’ head is the crown of thorns.
This day makes me reflect and ponder. It’s something that occurs deep within the recesses of my heart and I often want to run from these reflections because they often uncover the worst of myself. And it is sad. It’s the sad port, erm, part.
But balancing out the sad is the joy in knowing the end of the story. And it just so happens that Sloan depicted that as well. He called it the “Good Port.”
Jesus was not defeated and the grave did not hold him forever. Notice the “sparkles” surrounding Jesus in Sloan’s drawing. It’s because Jesus rose and “He was so shiney when He came out of the grave, mom, because His body was new.”
That really is the Good Part, isn’t it?
So as I look at these videos, I’m reminded again of the preciousness of life. I remember how quickly life happens. We blink and the moment is gone. And it’s sad. But it’s also good.
Happy Easter.
Sloan has now lost all four of his front teeth. The last one came out tonight at church. While I was in choir practice and the kids were supposed to be watching a movie in the cry room until I finished, Sloan ran in repeatedly with a status report on his tooth.
It’s suuuuper wiggly.
It popped TWO TIMES.
Look how far I can push it mom? Is this making you sick?
Mom it’s barely hanging on – will you pull it out?
No wait! Never mind. I’ll do it.
And finally…
Mom it’s out, it’s out, it’s out!!! With Tia trailing close behind, Thwoan wost his toof mom and he hath a hole in his mouf!
When we got in the car to come home, he dropped it and we couldn’t find it – so the tooth is officially lost. And I have a tooth floating somewhere in my car, which is totally gross.
I keep getting this spinning wheel of a bad horror movie in my head where the tooth comes to life and starts attacking me while I drive…
It’s been a long, long day. Let’s just say Lee’s out of town, I just got the kids to bed, it’s 10:15 and I still have to play Tooth Fairy tonight even though I don’t have any cash so I’m going to go scrounge and dig up as many coins as I can find. Oh and my house apparently threw up while I was out and about today – there are clothes and dishes everywhere.
And I’m envisioning them coming to life and attacking me in my sleep.
Awesome…
There’s a tree down the street from our house. It’s branches are splayed left and right, front and back, one after another. It is the perfect climbing tree. And my kids love to climb it.
As a kid I was a bit of a dare devil. If a tree could be climbed, I scaled it to the top. If a bench was before me, I tried to flip off of it. If I could climb to the very tip of a mountain, I did it, then hung over the side for good measure. Remember, I am the same child who thought it would be a good idea to climb onto the roof out of her second story window as a kid simply because I wanted to see what the world would look like from the very tip of our house. And it is but a miracle that I didn’t break my neck trying to get away from the nest of horse flys that I stepped in on my ascent to the top.
I can distinctly remember as a kid, my mom giving me the freedom to explore while watching warily and saying a frillion times, “Kelli. Be careful. Kelli. Slow down. Kelli!” To me, it was hilarious watching her get nervous and scared because “Moooomm, I’m totally cool. I got it.” Then I’d plunge backwards and flip off the top of the football goal at our local high school.
Or hiking with my dad in Colorado the summer before my senior year, when we got to the top of Pike’s Peak, I thought it was so funny to climb down onto a little ledge over an expansive cavern below andhave dad take a picture of me from ground level looking like I was hanging on for dear life. Dad laughed, took the picture, then demanded that I get back up on solid ground before I gave him a heart attack.
So it shouldn’t be a surprise to me that my kids are a little dare devilish. And I probably deserve the hyperventilation that comes from watching them. As I stood under the tree last night watching Tia slither in and out of the branches, all but swinging from limb to limb by one arm, I got so panicked that I had to turn away. Lee laughed, Sloan and Tia cackled and I told them to hurry up and finish and get back on solid ground before I had a heart attack. In my minds eye, all I could see was one of them plumetting to the ground and my heart raced.
It’s the same feeling I get when we go to a local park that has a significant hiking trail. At one point, there is a rock that juts out over a large ravine and the kids love to go sit out on the rock and look out over the sky. I don’t blame them – it’s exhilerating. But I can’t watch. Lee has to go with them and I have to walk away so I can’t see them teetering 100 feet off the ground. Of course it’s not like they’re anywhere near the edge of the rock and they have to sit or stand very still, but I always envision them tripping and plunging and sweet mercy, I’m gonna be ill…
Mom, dad, I’m sorry for the grey hairs on your head that were caused by my insanity. If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure I’ll be grey early. Go ahead, I give you full permission to throw your head back and break forth with an almighty laugh of satisfaction….
*pause*
Okay, that’s good. You can stop laughing now.
I can’t get enough of watching Landon handle a ball. From what I hear, he’s better at two than his daddy was, which is apparently a big deal. It’s just so fun to watch him get hold of a basketball and start dribbling. He is now starting to run and dribble and he gets a very intense look on his face when he does it. I love that the child who was named after his dad (his middle name is Lee) is so much like his dad. And I love watching the kids play with their dad. Landon shares his daddy’s love and skill in basketball. Sloan shares his dad’s love and skill in golf. And Tia shares her dad’s love for competition. They all got a little bit of him.
As you can see, Daddy gets a bit intense about dribbling a ball. So much so that sometimes he has to be reminded to share. Ha!
My husband is hot. S’okay – you can agree with me. 🙂
I found this picture on my computer this morning and it made me smile. I love my family…
Today was a sad day for the child who bears the X-Chromosome. It was a day she had been waiting for with great anticipation, but was ultimately not to be… She was supposed to have her “vewy betht fwend” come over to play for the whole morning. An entire morning of girly giggles, squeals and squeaks. Her friend was even going to come with us to watch Tia do gymnastics. The excitement was palpable.
But her high was crushed at 4:30 this morning when Sloan came tearing into our room, jolting Lee and I out of our slumber so quickly that we almost knocked each other out in our flurry to figure out whether or not the world as we know it was about to end.
Turns out the world was not about to end, but Sloan was just dry heaving and experiencing major stomach cramps. The kid hates to throw up and avoids it at all costs so in his attempt to not hurl, he completely and totally freaked out causing quite the ruckus.
And nobody really went back to sleep after that. So we had to cancel the anticipated playdate, which resulted in great weeping and gnashing of teeth. Had I had tiny sackclothe, I fear Tia would have arrayed herself in such and tossed the ashes of the fireplace over her head. She rolled on the couch moaning, “I don’t hab anybody to pway wif. I don’t wanna pway wif my bwudders. I want to pway wif a Dirl!” And on and on that went.
I already felt bad for her because I remember as a kid how devastating it was to have plans cancelled. But as I listened to her wail at the prospect of being stuck with the boys all day long, my heart sank a little more. I wish she had a sister. I really do. I know lots of girls grow up with only brothers (including myself) and they turn out okay, but I do wish she had the companionship of another X.
Growing up, I can’t say I ever remember longing or yearning for a sister. When I was planning my wedding, I remember thinking it would have been fun to have a sister to talk and laugh with, but other than that I never felt that I was missing out. Now that I’m grown, though, I really do sometimes wish I had a sister. Not that my brother isn’t great, because he is, but you know…he’s a boy. He’s got cooties. And he doesn’t like to talk on the phone because clearly the Y-Chromosome shuts off a man’s brain when a phone comes into close proximity of his ear canal…
Anyway, I do wish Tia had a sister. Maybe she will someday. I won’t say never, because I am not sure God has completely closed the door on the expansion of our family. In fact, I’m fairly certain He hasn’t, but Lee feels…differently. Ahem.
Of course, not having a friend to play worked out swimmingly when I couldn’t keep Tia awake past noon due to the fact that she had been up since 4:30 in the AM. And bonus! I think we will fulfill the need for girl time tomorrow instead. Hopefully that will release the pent up giggles that are threatening to end her sweet life as we know it!
I wrote a post last night about how much I love writing. It included little anecdotes about a fifth grade story on a hot air balloon race, a college professor who changed my life and how I waxed poetic on journal pages throughout the years growing up. I even included little nuggets of interest like how my mom has just about every little school project I’ve ever done tucked away somewhere (as well as my first lock of hair and, for a long time, my baby teeth. If you haven’t already mom, you can get rid of those.)
It might have been brilliant. But it felt forced so I erased it. Because it’s my blog and I can do that. Ah! The power of being in control!!!
I do really love writing, but this week I’ve worn myself out. There are lots of projects in the works. Good things. Fun things. But it’s tiresome. And I’ve been researching and prepping for a temporary freelance gig that starts next week that I feel totally unprepared for. And my brain is fried. Like an egg on a hot skillet. Without the drugs. Though I do get quite a buzz from the creative process. See that? Fragmented sentences. A writing no-no.
Fuh-RIED, my brain is. Yes – I’m also channeling Yoda thanks to my kids. Crazy, I am.
So I have nothing of real substance to offer today. Obviously. I’ll leave you with a few photos instead. Because I hope to somehow redeem this runaway train of a post. Ah! A cliche. Another writing no-no. I need to stop.
The Moolah Shrine Circus: Landon didn't just hate the clowns - he practically undressed me trying to get away from them.
The face painting was nothing short of a work of art.
What do you do with a crabby Butterfly? (I'll give you a hint - it requires a warm blanket and a quiet, dark room).
My outfit yesterday. Why? Because it's finally warm enough, because I love cowboy boots, and because I can only pull this off for so much longer before it starts to get weird and I become an embarrassment to my kids...
I’ve taken a couple of days to think through this Health Care Reform Bill and ponder the ramifications that it brings about. I must confess that Sunday night, I was angry. I couldn’t even watch as one by one Congress men and women stood up and made their case because it felt so terribly deceptive and wrong. They weren’t making a case for or against the bill – they were lobbying. Not all of them, of course. I can count on one hand the few who I sensed truly and passionately believed that what they were arguing was right (on both sides of the debate). The rest, however, were making a campaign speech. It made me feel violated. I found myself pacing the kitchen, yelling at the TV and, finally, turning my back and trying to tune it all out. I was mad.
Today? Today I’m disappointed. I’m not angry anymore. I’m just very, very disappointed.
I’m disappointed in our leaders and their lack of leadership.
I’m disappointed in the Democrats for their arrogant dismissal of public concern. For their willingess to push this thing forward despite a majority of Americans being against this particular bill. Take note that I did not say that those of us who opposed this bill were against reform…
I’m disappointed in the politicians who pontificate as though we the people are no more than uneducated toddlers who need our hands held and paths directed.
I’m disappointed that our elected leaders are more interested in appeasing their constituents than in doing the right thing.
I’m disappointed in the Republicans for their arrogant misuse of power.
I’m disappointed in our President for placing his desire to make a legacy for his Presidency over the will and good of the people.
I’m disappointed that our leaders are willingly spending money we don’t have on a bill that no one understands.
I’m disappointed in the elected officials who did not have the courage to vote with their gut because they feared it would lose them precious votes at the polls.
I’m disappointed that my children will inherit this massive debt someday.
I’m disappointed that despite the enormous public outcry, our leaders weren’t able to come together and craft a bill that was more acceptable and fair.
I’m disappointed that politics came before the people.
I’m disappointed that our health care system was allowed to deteriorate to the place that it is now.
I’m disappointed that I don’t feel like I can trust a single politician any further than I can throw him…or her.
I’m disappointed…
I’m not sad or mad, though, and I have not lost hope. By nature I tend to be fairly optimistic. I hope that this health care reform bill will succeed. I have doubts that it will, but I do hope. I hope my fears, and the fears of thousands of others, are unfounded and wrong. But a nagging thought keeps tapping the back of my mind – What if our fears and concerns are right?
I take courage in one thought and one thought alone…
Jesus is still the same yesterday, today and forevermore. Some of you may not share that same conviction, but I find an enormous amount of comfort in the fact that none of this is a surprise to Him who is ultimately in control. Do I want to suffer the consequences for bad decisions? No, I really don’t. But I won’t fear tomorrow – I will take rest that tomorrow will not surprise the One who ordained it from the beginning of time.
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