Archives for 2010

The Journey

November 15, 2010 by Kelli

No, I’m not going to bust out in a radical version of Don’t Stop Believin’. Although if I still had make up on, it wasn’t 11:10 at night and my FlipCam was close by, I might have considered it.

Nope…I’m talking about a different kind of journey. On Friday I shared with you the struggles and insecurities I’m feeling as my career climbs ever so slightly and the inner battles that wage within. I received great, wonderful, supportive comments from many of you. I also received a couple of phone calls and a few emails filled with encouragement.

All of this encouragement began squeezing at my heart, which then overflowed in prayer. How am I to feel about all of this? How do I respond to the obvious passions and desires of my heart when opportunity presents itself? And how do I balance those with the obligations and love I have for my family?

A conversation I had on Sunday solidified in my heart my need for serious reflection on this matter. I found myself encouraging a new friend to pursue her own passions. I heard myself tell her that God doesn’t want us to live in fear. He has given this girl obvious talents and passions and she yearns to pursue them, but there is that nagging little thing called practicality. It is telling her that pursuing her passions, even to the glory of God, means giving up a tiny bit of security and safety. Not that I think I know what’s best for her life, by any means, but I do know that when I see someone who longs and desires to pursue a passion I’m going to do everything in my power to encourage her to do it without shame and or fear.

I need to have a talk with the girl who stares back at me from the mirror…

Practicality is a good thing. Practicality keeps food on the table and money in the bank. Practicality makes sure that should your two year old topple off his stool in the middle of dinner, you can walk into an ER and get his broken arm plastered up without fear of losing your home to medical bills.

Not that we know anything about that, of course…

As we drove home from church Sunday afternoon, I relayed the discussion to Lee and I could almost hear his brain explode inside his skull. Because he’s been telling me this for years.

I am trapped in practicality. But the problem with my practicality is that it isn’t the good kind. It’s not the kind that is really truly doing my family any good. It’s really just my excuse to not try too hard. If I don’t try too hard to succeed, I sure as heck don’t have to worry about failing.

Nice, huh?

Except it’s not.

The thing that baffles me about all this is the fact that I didn’t use to be this way. This fear based practicality was birthed the second I became a mother. Suddenly I found myself afraid to dream anymore for fear I might shove them all toward costly psychiatrist bills when they’re older. Because we all know that it’s always the mom’s fault, right?

Here’s the thing: this is not the place we were designed to live. This is not where I was designed to live. None of us were meant to hide behind practicality – to use it as a shield to hide us from the world. Sometimes practicality is entirely impractical. It’s not always wise to be practical. God didn’t design us to live in fear, insecurity and guilt. He designed us to walk freely, unashamed and with passion. And passion is rarely ever practical. Think of the greatest leaders and innovators in history – very few of them operated in passive practicality. Most of them threw caution to the wind and surrendered to their dreams.

Think of Christopher Columbus. Sailing around the world was not practical, especially when the prevailing thought was that the world was flat. But he tossed practicality over the side of his ship and sailed forth, driven by passion and a good deal of gumption. Or what about a group of five men who, in 1956, risked everything to minister to a group of people known as the Woadani deep in the Amazon only to end up being brutally murdered by the people they so desperately wanted to help? Was it practical to transplant their families to that region? It could even be argued that that was unwise…unless you know the end of the story when Jim Elliot’s son returned and forever altered the future of the people who slayed his father.

Of course, wisdom must play a role. But wisdom and practicality are different aren’t they? Practicality is a dross around the neck of passion. Wisdom is the wings which give passion flight. Wisdom allows us to pursue passions with the knowledge that even if we don’t succeed (as the world sees success), we certainly can’t call ourselves failures. Because how can we fail? Hasn’t the battle already been won on our behalf?

Sometimes, of course, wisdom and practicality must go hand in hand. It would be both unwise and impractical for me to pursue a career as a professional surfer. There are a number of reasons for this, one of the more prevalent ones being I live in Missouri…not a lot of ocean to be found. I also have to be sure that the things I pursue are supported by Lee. It is not wise or practical to chase a dream without my husband’s full support. I will never succeed that way.

If, however, I do have the full support of my husband and I step out in faith, wisely seeking direction along the way, then haven’t I already experienced success, even if I don’t accomplish that which I set out to accomplish? What about the journey I took? What about the things I learned on the path? If the journey leads to deeper faith, new experiences and greater wisdom, then tell me where exactly the failure lies?

The truth that has taken root inside my heart these last few days is so simple, yet also a bit complex: If I am willing to embrace my dreams, without guilt or fear, perhaps that alone is the success I am to find. And what a journey that would be…

Don’t stop. Believin’. Hold on to that feeeeeeelin’.

Huh…look at that – the song fits after all.

Righteous.

Filed Under: Family, Lee, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: chasing dreams, faith, living with passion, Practicality vs. Wisdom, The Journey

Knocked Up

November 15, 2010 by Kelli

I shared this story the other night with a friend and I decided it was too funny not to blog. So here you go…just another random blog about my life.

You. Are. Welcome.

I was 24 years old and pregnant with Sloan. It should be stated that Sloan was a mammoth of a child. He was 9.3 when he was born in July of 2003 so by June of that year I looked like I was going to explode. I carried him one hundred percent out front and quite low so yes, I waddled and I got asked more than once if I was expecting twins.

FYI – Pregnant women don’t like to be asked if they’re having twins because the chances are greater that they’re not carrying twins. If you are unsure, it’s best to simply not ask.

It was early on a June day and Lee needed to take my car into the shop due to a rather unpleasant sound it was making that was certain to cost us a large portion of our unborn child’s college fund so instead of being stuck at home for the day, I decided to run the few errans I had in The Pup.

The Pup was a little Isuzu truck we bought while we were rehabbing our house so that we could haul lumber and other large items to and from our temporary home – Lowes. I believe we paid $500 for The Pup. She was rusted inside and out and she shook rather furiously when you started her up. She sputtered when she moved and she was drafty due to a rather significant hole in the floor board. But she served her purpose well and we tried not to drive her long distances for fear that she might literally fall apart in the road and we’d be left manually pushing a Flinstones car up the driveway.

So on this fine morning, I loaded up The Pup and prepared to spend the morning out.

Did I mention I was great with child? Great with child. And for some reason, on this particular day, I decided to wear my hair in two long braids. I was 24 so I could still pull off braids without looking totally and completely ridiculous.

Actually, I’m guessing that’s not true. I probably looked ridiculous.

I also wore no make up and because my fingers were rather swollen I had on no ring. But the creme de la creme of my little ensemble came in the form of my maternity shirt. Because my protuding abdomen was so prominent, food and liquids attached themselves to it with great frequency. As in, every time I ate I spilled something on my stomach. So by the end of my pregnancy, I didn’t own a single unstained shirt. And the shirt I chose on that particular day was white and had a long stain right. down. the middle.

I am nothing if not classy.

So out I walked. In braids, with a stained shirt, to The Pup. I had give myself a bit of a running start in order to get my gut up off the ground and into the slightly elevated seat. It was quite the ordeal, in fact to get in and get the seat adjusted so that I could reach the steering wheel without it cutting off the circulation to the lower half of my body.

In short…I looked ridiculous.

I made my first stop at Borders Bookstore. I waddled in and got my book and smiled slightly at the people who started at me with eyebrows raised. I waddled back out, took my hop, step and leap into The Pup’s front seat and shimmied around until I was just right and continued on to the gas station.

Here I ran into an older man and woman filling up their boat on wheels. The woman didn’t even try to hide her horrified stares. It was at this moment that I began to feel a bit like a Zoo animal. I also began to wonder what it was that people were staring at.

After I got gas, I headed to Mecca Target. It was here that the stares intensified and I finally got the question.

“Honey, when are you due?”

“In three weeks.”

“Ah,” the woman nodded knowingly. “And you feel okay to be out walking around?”

“Um…yes?”

She looked down at me with a bit of pity in her eyes, causing even more confusion on my part. “Well, good luck to you,” she said, patting me on the shoulder as she turned to walk away. This woman truly seemed sorry for me.

I decided to make my purchase and get out of the Twilight Zone as quickly as possible at that point. When I made my pitiful leap into The Pup, I looked up in the rear view mirror to make sure I didn’t have FREAK written across my forehead and when I looked I laughed out loud.

Braids and no make up with bangs hanging neatly across my forehead…

I looked seventeen years old.

No wonder people stared. I looked like a poor little knocked up teenager who’s boyfriend had left her with nothing but a stained shirt and beat up old truck. This explained the old woman’s horror at the gas station.

I also explains why I have never worn braids again.

The End.

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Motherhood, Sloan Tagged With: knocked up, Motherhood, pregnancy

The curse of the stay at home, work at home, loves her home mom

November 12, 2010 by Kelli

In recent months work has taken off for me quite a bit. I’m at the tail end of editing a third book this year with a fourth lined up to start next week. All four of these books fell in my lap and I have had more fun than I’d like to publicly admit fixing them up. In addition to the books, I’ve started writing for a couple of other websites, am speaking next week at a social media event and am ramping up plans to send STL Family Life to the next level.

So many blessings. I can’t tell you how much it thrills me to have these opportunities, but…

I’ve struggled lately. Am I doing the right thing? Is this what I should be doing? Am I being all that I need to be for my kids, my husband and my community? What if this path is the wrong path? Am I being selfish?

I’ve been wading through some insecurity lately. When I began this blog almost three years ago I had no clue what blogging was all about. I wanted to keep a record of life with three kids amidst the insanity of a new baby. And now, while I still want to keep a record for my kids, I must admit I’m also doing this for me. I’m doing it because I love to create. I love that this blogging/social media business has helped me burst out of my bubble a bit and meet people I never would have met before.

Some of you may have a hard time believeing this, but by nature I’m a bit of an introvert. Meeting new people scares the crap out of me. Meeting people who are successful and funny and accomplished makes me feel like curling up in bed with a copy of Jane Eyre, a bottle of wine and a year’s supply of PEOPLE magazine.

Sad, I know.

But in the last year I’ve found a new sense of confidence bubble beneathe the interior of my insecurity. Part of it stems from my husband who never ceases to make me feel like I can conquer the world…and who tells me I’m hot on a daily basis. Seriously can’t get enough of that…

Some comes from the fact that my family all support my online writing with a great deal of glee. I can always count on my parents to make me feel like I hung the moon.

But a large part of this confidence has come from dear friends and absolute strangers. People here in town who have embraced me and encouraged me, taught me and challenged me. People who are beautiful and successful and…nice. Women who are great moms and great writers. Women who stay at home, women who work at home, women who work outsdie the home, women of all stages of life…Women who tell me it’s okay to pursue my dreams.

So a new confidence is brewing inside. But there is still guilt and insecurity. You see, while I now feel confident in my ability to accomplish my goals and dreams, I question my motivation to do so. I like that I can earn a little income and help support our family to a degree (or at least help take my husband on a rockin’ European vaction, anyway), and I like the creative outlet writing and editing give me which make me a better mom altogether.

But is it right?

I read this post today by Megan at Velveteen Mind and it struck a chord in my soul. My career is filled with lofty ideals and noble goals. My family is my mission. I can fail in my freelance career – I cannot fail as a mother.

The thing that’s most frustrating about my current insecurities is that most of them have no base. I’m not being unwise in my career. I’m not sacrificing my family. I’m not taking on more than I can handle (not now anyway) but I am struggling against this feeling of uncontentment. I’m not content with my career because I want to take it to the next level, but I don’t want to take it to the next level because I fear I’ll sacrifice my family. I’ve had enough work lately that I’ve tossed around the idea of hiring a babysitter for a couple of hours a week so I can get things done. Oh the guilt I’ve felt for even thinking that! Insane amounts…And here’s why – I love what I do! Writing and editing are not work for me. So hiring a sitter once a week so I can hole up in Starbucks and have fun feels like an indulgence. I’m still not sure if I’ll do it or not…

And so I flounder a bit.

I don’t share this to have the problem solved. I think all moms deal with this to a degree. We all have to balance who we are inside the home with who we are outside the home. We all have passions and goals outside of motherhood and yet we all long to do nothing more than be great moms. I share this just to share. To get it out of my head and off my chest. To verbally confess – I’m struggling with life balance. No one in my family is suffering, everyone’s healthy (emotionally that is – Tia has a nasty cold) and we are enjoying one another daily. But I still battle within.

I don’t think I’m alone in this…

Filed Under: Life, Motherhood Tagged With: mom guilt, Motherhood, my husband thinks I'm hot, the struggles of motherhood, Velveteen Mind, Work at home moms

Remembrance and Veterans

November 11, 2010 by Kelli

November 11.

Veterans Day.

I never really understood the significance of this day growing up. I didn’t get the impact that veterans had on our country. Of course I heard about their sacrifice, but I didn’t really get it until I grew much, much older. It was so easy as a youth to get caught up in the tales of war and not see them as a depiction of reality. They just seemed so…commercial. War wasn’t real to me.

Then I turned 23 and watched a few months later with the world as the Twin Towers collapsed in New York. I sat on my apartment floor and sobbed. My heart broke in two for my countrymen who I knew perished. But it also shook with fear for at that very moment, my brother was stationed on a supply ship in the Persian Gulf. Everything was uncertain and I have never felt such fear.

And that’s when war became real to me. It’s also when I realized that our military men deserve every ounce of respect we can muster. Earlier this year as I stood in line at the airport to fly to New Orleans, a soldier on crutches stood behind me. It only felt right to let him take my place in line. After all, he was placing himself in harms way so I could have the freedom to stand in that line. I found myself increasingly frustrated, however, when the two families in front of me did not let him move to the front. They saw him standing there. He was in full uniform. And he was on crutches. I wanted to apologize to him for them.

I am so deeply proud of this country and the men and women who stand in harms way for us. To any of them who may be reading today, including my brother, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you. Thank you for protecting me and my family. Thank you for your sacrifice. And I thank your families as well because they sacrifice just as much. I honestly can’t find the words to express just how much gratitude I feel…and that’s saying something because me? I’m rarely speechless.

To read about Veteran’s Day from the perspective of a veteran, visit this blog written by our dear friend, Jeremy.

Happy Veteran’s Day.

____________________________________________________________________

My grnadmother with her youngest child, Tammy, on the island of South Caicos circe 1965ish.

My grandmother with her youngest child, Tammy, on the island of South Caicos circa 1964-ish.

This day holds another significance for me. Today is my grandmother’s birthday. Mimi would have been 80 today. Instead of celebrating with us, however, she’s dancing at the foot of the King and has been since March of 2003. All I can say is I can’t wait to get to heaven to see Mimi dance because for as long as I was growing up that was not an activity she condoned. I want to see her shake her groove thang on the streets of gold.

I so wish that Mimi were here with us. I wish she could have met Tia and Landon. I wish she could have come with my mom and I to her beloved Turks and Caicos islands last year. I would have loved to hear her talk about her years there as a young mom and missionary. It would have been nice to hear more of her stories. I appreciate her so much more now that I am a mom myself. And I miss her.

Thankfully, I have some of the journals she kept during her years as a pioneer missionary in the Carribbean. They are a window into who she was as a young woman and I love to hold such a precious key to my past.

I am so proud of the heritage that has been passed down to me through my grandparents and parents. I am proud of all of my family. They are living out the Great Commission every single day literally all over the world. I couldn’t be more honored to share DNA with such a fine group of people.

Today’s post is dedicated to Mimi, a woman whom I admire, respect, miss and love. May I pass the torch of faithfulness to my own children, just as it has been passed to me.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Betty Cooper, honoring veterans, Mimi, Turks and Caicos Islands, Veteran's Day

Thankful in November

November 10, 2010 by Kelli

My sister-in-law (who is all kinds of awesome) is doing a month long series in which she details that which she is thankful for. Imagine that! Giving thanks in the month of Novemeber…who ever heard of such a thing?

I, personally, love the idea of focusing on that for which I am thankful. It’s so easy to get bogged down in the negative, in the business and craziness and OMGI’MNOTGONNASURVIVETHIS moments of life that sometimes I have to stop myself and remember the happy.

In general I’m not much of an Eyeore type person. I’m thankful for that because with some of the heartaches that I have faced in the past, it would be very easy to be an Eyeore. But then again, it’s that way for all of us, isn’t it? We’ve all faced pain, heartache, trial, hurt. We all have the choice to dwell in the pain, live in the past and simmer in the hurt.

Or…

We can move on, step forward and let the past fade in the distance. For some, that’s easy to do. For others, it’s much harder due to deeper wounds, harsher trials or simply because they are hardwired from conception to stew, analyze and think.

So today I’m focusing on the thankful. I have been so bogged down lately that I really haven’t had time to stop and think and…thank.

Outside of the obvious (my husband and kids…what kind of wife and mom would I be if I didn’t mention them, right?) I’m thankful for where we are in our lives right now. We’ve walked a bit of a tightrope in the last few months and it had every potential end in a stomach dropping plunge. But, instead, the tightrope has slwoly widened and we are once again feeling a bit more secure. Not comfortable, of course, as we are ever on our guard, but we have definately seen blessing in the last month.

I’m thankful for that.

I’m thankful for the memories I made travelling Europe with my husband where he snapped the above picture on our last day in Italy as I lounged in a park in Bellagio. I was looking at the mountains across Lake Como and marvelling at God’s majesty, totally in awe of creation. I’m thankful for that day, for that moment and for the many pictures that are seared into my brain from across the seas.

I’m thankful for the career I’m slowly but surely beginning to develop in writing, editing and social media. I wasn’t looking for this and it kind of fell in my lap and I just have to say – I’m having the time of my life. I’m still navigating the waters of what is feasible for me to pursue and what needs to be sacrificed as I also tend to my young brood. But I’m thankful for opportunity, whatever it might be, that comes my way and I’m totally enjoying the ride.

I’m thankful for Nutella. It’s just so very, very good. On everything. Including pizza crust, on which we slathered an entire can a couple of weeks ago and presented it to the kids as dinner. Which leads me to the next thing:

I’m thankful that I can still please my kids with a Boboli Pizza crust and a can of Nutella. I’m thankful that my seven year old still thinks it’s cool when I accompany him on field trips. I’m thankful that my four year old still wants to hold my hand and sit in my lap. I’m thankful that my two year old tells me I’m beautiful almost every day and then squints his eyes in a mischevious grin because he knows it melts my heart.

I’m thankful for my soft bed and thick pillows even though I don’t get to enjoy those as much as I would like to.

I’m thankful.

I’m also now craving Nutella.

I’m thankful that Target is only a couple of minutes away and they faithfully stock Nutella on their shelves.

What are you thankful for?

Filed Under: Family, Holidays, Lee, Life, Thanksgiving Tagged With: God's Creation, Italy, Motherhood, Nutella, Thankfulness, Thanksgiving

I need your advice

November 9, 2010 by Kelli

Post edit: This post is not meant to condemn anyone who has given their child a Nintendo DS or DSi. I do not oppose gaming devices in general, however, at this point in time they are not right for our family. My intent in posting this is not to make anyone feel bad but to get feedback on what the heck to buy my children for Christmas!!!

Carry on…

Hey guys. So Christmas is around the corner. I’m not sure if you were aware of that fact. I mean, you know, if you’ve been hiding under a rock you might not have realized, but for the rest of us who are already being bombarded with decorations and music it’s pretty dang hard to ignore.

Christmas is coming and somewhere someone’s goose is getting fat. Poor Thanksgiving…it is the forgotten holiday.

So here’s my yuletide dilemma. My seven year old is at the age where gift buying is becoming a bit difficult. He still likes toys (praise God), but he’s not as easy to please as he once was. I believe we have one more year before buying gifts to satisfy his maturing tastes will become harder…and more expensive.

This year, he has his sweet little heart set on a Nintendo Dsi. He talks about it incessantly. He wants to check them out every time we enter The Holy Land Target and he tells everyone he sees that he’s getting one for Christmas. Here’s the thing, though.

He’s not.

Lee and I have decided that right now we are not ready to introduce hand held gaming devices into our children’s lives. There are a couple of reasons for this:

1.) I just don’t think it’s necessary at seven to have a Nintendo Dsi. I’m not opposed to them, but I find it to be an awfully expensive gift for such a young child.

2.) I think there are better things to do with one’s time than play video games. We have a Wii and it gets played some, but repeated and extended periods of play are off limits.

3.) I am not ready for the battles that will inevitably come with a NDsi (don’t want to type it all out again). Sloan is actually very responsible when it comes to TV and video games. He does not have much of an addictive personality and he is not one to sit for hours with his eyes glued to the tube. He gets bored and loses interest quickly and can go months without playing the Wii at all. Landon, however, is already showing addictive tendencies in that he wants to watch TV or play the Wii all the flippin’ time. It’s already a daily battle with him resulting in many tears shed. A NDsi would inevitably become a battle zone between Sloan and his siblings and, quite honestly, I can’t handle one more battle.

Are we being unfair? I don’t feel like it, but it really does break my heart not to give Sloan what he wants because he’s such a good kid. I tried to break it to him gently the other day that this year would likely not be the year he received an NDsi. His reponse?

“That’s okay. I’ll ask Santa to bring it to me!”

Crap! Am I going to crush his dreams and destroy Santa all in one year? Hey…welcome to the Stuart home where we take your dreams and roll them inthumb tacks then light them on fire.

Thanks for stopping by!

When I told Lee of Sloan’s reponse he came up with the brilliant solution of telling Sloan that Santa doesn’t bring such expensive gifts – he lets the parents buy those presents. I have tasked Lee with preparing Sloan to not find a NDsi under the tree this Christmas while still preserving the magic of Santa for one more year. I’m counting on my man to come through on this one!

My question is, though, what should we get the poor boy for Christmas? Yes, he will receive clothes, a few books and probably some new art supplies. But what do we get him for that one special toy that’s going to light up his face when he walks around the corner Christmas morning?!

I need your advice! What are you getting your kids for Christmas? I have a few ideas, but nothing seems to take the place of his beloved NDsi, which he will likely receive at some point, but just not now.

I do hereby open the comments up for suggestions. This is my sad attempt to see if I can break the ten comment barrier I seem to have on my posts. Come on, folks, don’t let me down. I am officially begging for your comments! My motherly angst has reduced me to this…a comment whore mooch.

…

Okay, I can’t let the last word of a post be whore mooch so I’m going to share a picture that has nothing to do with this post but I just want to share it. It’s Tia, in her Little Miss Matched tights, which I told you about here and her glasses which make her look way too old.

Merry Christmas.

No! Happy Thanksgiving.

Filed Under: Christmas, Holidays, Kids, Landon, Lee, Motherhood, Sloan, Thanksgiving Tagged With: Age appropriate toys, Little Miss Matched, Motherhood, Nintendo Dsi, When should a child get a Dsi?

Cry me a freakin’ river

November 7, 2010 by Kelli

I’ve told you before…I’m a cryer. Crier? Yes…I think it’s crier.

I cry a lot.

I cry easily, I cry loudly, I cry ugly. And if I try not to cry, I eventually burst like a dam spilling my ugly all over whoever is closest to me. Sometimes I laugh to cover the cry, which tends to make the cry louder and even more embarrassing. I blubbered throughout my entire wedding ceremony.

I don’t know why! Weddings are happy right?

I’m off topic. I’m reeling myself back in. I said all of the above to lead into the fact that I cried this weekend. I cried a lot, I cried hard and I cried ugly. This is the part where you all need to feel sorry for Lee, the unintended target of all my crazy.

It started Thursday afternoon when Lee came home from work to find me wrapped in two blankets in front of the fire place trying to thaw out after a frigid morning at Purina Farms on Sloan’s field trip. The conversation went something like this:

Lee: “So what’s the plan Saturday?”

Me: “Mom and Dad are keeping the kids overnight Friday night and are bringing them back Saturday around 3:00.”

Lee: “Well, I forgot to tell you, but the elders are supposed to do XXXXXXXXXXXXXX on Saturday morning and we’d really like our wives to come along.”

Me: “No! I can’t. That’s my one day off.”

And then…the dam broke. It was a face in hands, over the top, Sweet Mother of all that’s Holy cry from the gut. And here is why:

Every single second of my life right now is scheduled. From the moment my feet hit the ground to the second my head hits the pillow I have things that need to be done and places I need to be. Every single evening of the week is occupied and by Thursday afternoon I had been burning the candle at both ends for so long that I was dangerously close to burn out.

And I snapped.

Poor, sweet Lee. He didn’t even see it coming. Again my fault. I haven’t been communicating because I didn’t want to complain since I’m the one that committed to all of these responsibilities and I hadn’t really communicated to him how desperately I needed a day to myself. But being the Wonder Man that he is…and given that I freaked him out a bit with my impressive meltdown, he immediately told me not to worry about it, he’d go without me and youjuststayhomeandgetalittlerest.

Amen.

So I did and it was bliss. I edited 30 pages of the book I’m working on, did six loads of laundry, got my house relatively cleaned up and never once changed out of my pajamas. I didn’t wipe anyone’s behind or take out a single sippy cup. By the time they all came home I was completely rejuvenated.

Until…

We decided to take down the crib this weekend and put Landon in a big bed. Good grief, just writing that sentence brought tears to my eyes. I took the mattress out of the crib while Lee went to search for a tool box and I just looked down into it and literally seven and a half years of baby floated through my head.

I remembered myself a brand new mom holding Sloan on the floor next to the crib because we had just moved in and I had no place else to sit. I remembered walking in and seeing Sloan coo at his mobile hanging above the crib. I remembered walking in to find a fat, happy little boy staring at me for two years until he was replaced in the crib by a tiny, precious surprise of a baby girl.

I remembered buying new, girly bedding and excitedly putting it in the crib despite the fact that I had purchased “gender neutral” bedding the first time around. I remembered staring at that sweet baby in pink for hours, her tiny little backside up in the air as she slept. I remembered the sound of her climbing out of the crib before she was even two…

I remembered placing Landon in the crib and looking down at him, wondering if he really would be the last to sleep in it. I remembered the long nights as I rocked with him in the chair next to the crib. I remembered the dread I felt as I thought of disassembling the crib.

Then Lee came back in the room and sat down on the floor. He stopped for a minute and looked around. “This is sad,” he said.

Cue breaking dam.

I tried to laugh it off like, Hahaha- isn’t it so silly to cry over this? But I couldn’t laugh and I turned away so he wouldn’t see my ugly cry face and I sobbed those deep, soul wrenching sobs. Kind of like I’m doing right now.

Then Lee got all choked up, which made me cry more…and made me feel better. I wasn’t crazy to cry. It is sad. It was time to do this, for sure. But it was also sad. That season of life went by so quickly and I’m not ready for it to be over. Of course, it might not be. There is always the possibility that we’ll have to pull the crib back out at some point…but for right now, that’s not the case. For right now, that crib is lying in the basement, a reminder that life is flying by in solitary blinks.

Cry with me, won’t you? It feels good. And it hurts.

After a few moments of sobby sobs, I reigned myself in and handed Lee the screwdriver he needed. Of course, my tears quickly turned to laughter…or at least mild chuckles…when we realized we weren’t at all prepared with a big bed to move Landon into. We have to round up box springs, which we hadn’t even thought about when we decided to make this move.

Oh and, incidentally, who in their right mind decides to move a child out of his crib the night of daylight savings? I think we were so focused on ripping the bandaid off that we didn’t think clearly and logically through what we were doing. So for now, the boy sleeps on a mattress on the floor, which suits him just fine.

And me? I have a feeling there will be a few more tears shed over this little milestone. Ugly gopher tears. Lee – prepare yourself.

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: children growing up, mom's crying, Motherhood, taking down the crib

Kids Say the Darndest Things – A New Edition

November 5, 2010 by Kelli

It’s high time I recorded another installment of Kids Say the Darndest Things because my kids have ripped out some doozies lately. Parenting is seriously entertaining…you know, when it’s not stressful.

Me: “Hey Sloan, can I throw away this ribbon?” I hold up his Dare to Stay Off Drugs ribbon from the D.A.R.E. program at school.

“No!” He exclaimed.

“Why?” I asked. “What are yo ugoing to do with it?”

“I’m going to save it and set it out in case Daddy decides to do drugs.”

At which point I almost fell over laughing.

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For over a year Tia has been telling us how excited she is to turn five so she can climb the rock wall at the gym. A few weeks ago she had this conversation with my mom.

Mom: “Tia, you’re going to be five soon.”

Tia (grinning): “Yep. I’m donna be five.”

Mom: “And what happens when you turn five?” Obviously prompting her to say she gets to climb the rock wall.

Tia: Pauses and thinks…”I get heavier?”

____________________________________________________________________

Eating breakfast a few weeks ago, Landon started freaking out as only a nearly three year old can.

“I not wanna sit by dat door!” he cried, pointing at the back door.

“Why not?”

“It’s thcawy (scary)!”

“Why is it scary,” I asked.

“Betause. A monthster come frew dat door.”

I laughed and moved him and thought nothing else of it, until…

I picked him up out of his crib at the crack of dawn a few days later as he cried.

“What’s wrong?”

“I thscared of dat door,” he cried, pointing at his half open closet door.

“Why?”

“A monthster in dere.”

“Honey, there aren’t any monsters,” I siad hugging him tight.

“Yeth! Wike in Monthster’s Inc.”

Note to self…help him find a new favorite movie and tuck Monster’s Inc. away for a long, long time.

I love my kids.

Happy Weekend everyone!

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things Tagged With: kids say the darndest things

Drowning

November 3, 2010 by Kelli

First of all, I am very pleased with the way that elections turned out last night. There were a couple of issues that disappointed me and the fact that Harry Reid is still in office annoys me to no end, but more than anything I’m glad that there is a better balance of power in Washington now. Perhaps we can finally have reasonable discourse and work toward the good of the people. For a great analysis of how I feel about all this, visit Nicole’s blog. She essentially said everything I want to say and said it better than I could have.

I’m going to have to bail on a post today. I’m trying to do a better job of not posting bad, rambling posts on the days when I don’t really have anything good to say. Actually, I’ve got a couple of posts rolling around in my head but I just don’t have the time to write them well right now. You see, I’m smack in the middle of a little editing project. My deadline is 13 days away so I need to hunker down and dig in my heels. Let me just tell you – trying to work from home when you have small kids is hard. I have a newfound respect for working moms. And I have a newfound respect for the 5:00am hour. Me and 5:00 are becoming well acquainted.

I don’t like 5:00. AM or PM, come to think of it.

On top of that it’s Holiday season which means there are class parties, birthday parties, Christmas parties and every other kind of party you can imagine to plan and prepare for. And rehearsals for our church’s Christmas Musical (which is going to be amazing – tickets go on sale this Sunday!) And field trips. And big, fat giveaways on 5 Minutes for Mom coming your way – be on the lookout!

There’s also election night coverage to watch, which I know I don’t have to do but it’s so entertaining to listen to husband pants yell at the TV that I can’t pull myself away. There is food to be cooked, lunches to be made and boo boo’s to be kissed. I am speaking on a panel in a couple of weeks at the St. Louis Women in Media’s Fall Networking Event alongside several other amazing women so I need to prepare myself for that, and I need to find a baby sitter and I need to find a babysitter for a date night next week.

Date night! I love date night.

I’m not complaining. Life is full right now. I love it. I go to bed knowing that my day was packed and productive. But life is also tiring right now and I’m learning to say no. It’s hard to say no. But I am doing it. I said no twice today. It hurt because they were big no’s. But for now, no will do.

Oh, I forgot to add that I need to do laundry. I feel like I mention my laundry woes here quite a bit. It’s probably because I’m always waist deep in laundry. How does that happen?

Speaking of laundry – for those of you who are the mother’s of little girls, you must invest in several pairs of socks from Little Miss Matched. It’s the most brilliant idea ever conceived. Sell socks in packs of three, all of which coordinate but don’t match. This way you never have to worry about trying to match socks. There are leg warmers and underwear and shirts and tights and even dresses like this one:

I am going to sign off now because the whole point of this post was to tell you that I’m not going to post today. See? This is exactly the type of rambling, boring post I’m trying to avoid.

Clearly I need to work a little harder on that goal of mine.

Filed Under: Christmas, Family, Holidays, Kids, Life, Motherhood, Random, Thanksgiving Tagged With: Little Miss Matched, Random blog posts, WAHM, Working Mom

The Cutest Little Four Eyes You’ll Ever Meet

November 1, 2010 by Kelli

Neither Lee nor I have ever had problems with our eyes. I wore glasses for about ten minutes in high school. They were supposed to be for reading. I think I wore them as an accessory until I got bored with them and I never saw them again. Other than that, I’ve never even been to an eye doctor and Lee’s only been once.

So imagine my surprise two weeks ago when a letter came in the mail telling us Tia failed her vision screening at preschool. Poor kid. Genetics are definately not on her side. She’s got the wonky ear issues from her father and now she has vision issues that were apparently passed down from a grandparent (ahem…thanks mom).

At first I assumed that perhaps she was just having an off day. For those who know my gregarious daughter, you know that when she wants to do something she usually excels. *When she doesn’t want to do something, however…ahem.*

So out of parental duty I made her an eye exam. They plopped her up in the chair and I learned two very important things:

1.) My child is not seeing well out of her right eye. She has an astigmatism and couldn’t distiguish the pictures one from another. Her left eye is fine and is overcompensating a bit, which puts her at risk for lazy eye. Who knew?!

2.) My child does not know her ABC’s. They originally tried to have her read letters, but it quickly became apparent that that wouldn’t be effective when she simply said the russian sounds of the letters that were familiar and she had no idea what G, V, Q and U were. She did know A, B, C and H, though…except she called them Ah, Veh, Seh and Nuh because those are russian letters.

I hang my head in shame.

She knows her russian alphabet forwards and backwards so, you know, kudos to me for that one. I’m going to get right on familiarizing her with her own alphabet, though.

So out we walked with a glasses order form in hand and the promise that in a few short days she would be seeing much more clearly.

A little frame disclaimer. When we were picking out her glasses, I tried several really trendy, square shaped frames on her. She was like a little Sarah Palin, all sassy and au courant. But she would have nothing to do with the hip styles I picked out. (*see above note). She has definate sensory sensitivities in that if something doesn’t feel exactly right the first time she puts it on, she wants nothing to do with it.

Do you know how complicated that can make life sometimes?

Instead she picked out these purple and green frames. But wait…there’s more! On one side is a purple and green flowered pattern, but you can actually flip that bad boy around to reveal:

Solid green! Yes, the bands on the side are reversible, a feature that she thought was the coolest. thing. ever! She’s decided to wear one side patterend and the other side solid. And I love her for it. 🙂

So I swallowed my mom pride and placed the trendy glasses back in the case. I did manage to talk her out of the first pair she picked out which were a metallic purple and were hideous. They also looked like they would break the first time she came tearing through the house.

But the glasses ladies (what do you call them…technicians?) encouraged me to let her pick out what she liked so that she would be more prone to keeping them on at all times.

And so I did.

When the glasses lady technician fitted them to her face today she told Tia to “make sure and let mommy tell you all about how to take care of glasses.” To which I replied, “Absolutely. And listen right now as Miss Bridgette tells mommy how to take care of glasses.”

Truth be told, it wouldn’t matter what we put on her tiny little face, she’s so dang cute. And the glasses make her look a little bit older, which I’m not sure I like. But most of all she’s proud of them and she’s excited that she has them.