Archives for 2011

The In-Between

July 24, 2011 by Kelli

He didn’t want to try it. Fear prevented him from true joy, from enjoying to the fullest that which stood before him. The vibrant blue waters of the pool were enticing and he tasted the joy when he stepped into the water.

But fear held him back.

He couldn’t bring himself to put his face in the water. The fear of the unknown was too much and so he simply watched in longing. Every once in awhile he put his chin beneath the surface, delighted to feel the cool water – such a contrast to the blazing heat of the sun. If, by accident, water splashed into his eyes he cried and dashed for a towel, wiping it away before realizing how refreshing it could actually be.

I wondered if he would ever overcome this fear. I wondered if he would ever experience the miracle and joy that comes with taking the plunge and diving beneath the surface. I wondered if he would ever realize that conquering fear leads to freedom.

And then one day he did it. He stepped off the edge and took a leap of faith. Faith that he wouldn’t sink, but would indeed return to the surface as promised. Faith that fun awaited if he just took a chance. And do you know what happened?

Photo courtesy of my sister-in-law, Becke'

Inexplicable Joy. Freedom. And he hasn’t looked back.

We’re stuck in the in-between right now. We’re in Arkansas for a week visiting family, which simply feels like any other vacation. I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that we won’t be going back to St. Louis from here.

We head to Clearwater to stay in my parent’s condo until we either find a house or decide to rent. That, too, will feel like a familiar vacation, which in the past has always ended in us returning home. But Florida is home now. It doesn’t feel that way yet, but that’s what it is.

Mark Twain once wrote, “Change is the handmaiden Nature requires to do her miracles with.” I so hope for miracles as we make this move. What does a miracle look like? I don’t know. Maybe it will be something big and measurable. Maybe it will be something that can’t be seen but only felt…realized only upon looking backward after time has propelled us past this unsure moment.

Maybe the miracle is our willingness to take the plunge – to face our fear of change and dip our head beneath the cool waters of the unknown. We would have been fine splashing in the waters of familiarity, but then we might have missed out on the joy and freedom that comes from taking a plunge beneath the surface.

Maybe the miracle will be my children suddenly waking up each morning with smiles on their faces and nothing but kindness on their lips. Maybe the miracle will be my children sleeping past 6:30 every morning!

I can dream can’t I?

Change leaves your heart and spirit in a vulnerable place. When you’re cut off from the passivity of the familiar, suddenly a whole new world of options are opened before you. There are no schedules to keep up with, no obligations to meet. Those will likely develop quickly, of course, but in the beginning, when life has finally, mercifully, slowed down the prospects of a clean slate leave me excited. What will we finally do that we’ve been dreaming of but lacked the time? What lies in wait for our fragile hearts?

It’s terrifying and exciting and wonderful. A tightly woven ball of “What if?” What if we had the time to finally do that? What if we were closer to finally participate in this? What if we finally set aside the resources to accomplish that dream? What if we watched in grand expectation and looked for the miracles?

While the in-between has given me a touch of vertigo, unsure of which way to turn, it’s also left me excited. I love what ifs. I love to see miracles happen and for the first time in a long time, I’m finally watching for them.

“Change is the handmaiden Nature uses to do her miracles with.”

Have you seen any miracles lately? Let’s share and all join in the excitement!

“For I know the plans I have for. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

For more pictures by my awesome sister-in-law, visit her blog. We’re having some wonderful, sweet cousin time.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Florida, Life, Moving Tagged With: Conquering Fear, faith, Freedom, moving, thoughts

Dispelling the myth

July 21, 2011 by Kelli

On our drive from St. Louis to Arkansas yesterday (where we are staying with family for a week), we had the privilege of stopping in Branson for swimming and hot dogs with a sweet college friend. It was the perfect midday break in our drive and gave all of us a chance to stretch our legs a bit.

While the kids swam, Rachel and I discussed all things mommy and blogging. She said something that I hadn’t necessarily thought through before. “I think blogging can sometimes give Moms a false picture of motherhood,” she said, her voice all sugary. Seriously, you’ll be hard pressed to meet anyone sweeter. “We only get to see a small glimpse of someone’s life online and from that we make assumptions.”

How right she is. Blogging can easily set us Moms up for frustration. This Mom plans a rocking birthday party, that Mom does amazing crafts with her kids, the Mom over there manages to work full time from home and the Mom in that corner is teaching her kids Latin.

I’m exhausted.

As I’ve thought about it, I’ve wondered what kind of glimpse I am giving people into my life. Because I share a lot here – but I don’t share everything. Some of life isn’t meant to be shared. As the kids get older, I will share less about them because really, how many of us would have died a horrible death if we knew our mothers were broadcasting our every awkward tween move for all the world to read?!

*shudder*

I’m not a perfect mother. I don’t cook organic – heck, I don’t really cook much at all. I’m what you could call a “thrower together.” I throw together meals, often beginning them around 5:00. It’s kind of pathetic. I am, however, a good baker and I’m passing that love on to my children. I consider that a score because how awesome that my daughter will know how to make a killer scone when she’s fully grown?

I hereby apologize to my future grandchildren for the innumerable scones and petit fors they will likely consume instead of meat and potatoes.

I don’t throw killer birthday parties, but I throw decent ones. I’m all about simple. Make it look elaborate, but keep it simple. That’s how I roll.

I don’t read to my kids every day. And my kids don’t love to read. I’m hoping to change that this year. It has been a failure on my part. My kids just don’t love the written word and I hope to show them the magic of a good book. But it will take work and, dare I say, training. Something I don’t excel at.

I don’t shower every day, nor to I wear make up most days. I look better with make up and I smell better when I shower, but those things take time and effort that I simply don’t have many days. I do, however, wash my face two or three times a day and apply my magic lotions. Because, as I’ve said, I’m a face product addict.

I don’t always enjoy having my kids friends over and I get increasingly annoyed when I feel my kids are encroaching upon my personal space. I am selfish and easily frustrated and have been known to raise my voice, none of which make me in the least bit proud.

I am terrified of homeschooling my kids, but I feel like it’s something I need to do. I don’t do it because I think I can teach them better than someone else. I don’t do it because I have some kind of beef with the public schools. The opposite, in fact. I think that our schools and teachers deserve much more respect and support than they’re given, especially from the Christian community. Is the public school system flawed? Yes. Without a doubt. Is it an evil place to send our children? No. Without question.

I am homeschooling my children this year because the Lord has made it obvious that’s what I’m supposed to do. I do so with plenty of nerves, but also a bit of excitement. I won’t be perfect at it. I might even be really bad at it. But I won’t know unless I try. So I’m trying. And part of the reason I feel I need to try is linked to what I mentioned above. My kids don’t love to learn. And I want to teach them how exciting learning can be. Only I can do that.

I’m not a perfect mother and this isn’t a perfect blog. I don’t promote it as much as I could and I don’t work as hard on it as maybe I should. But I love this little space that I’ve created. I want it to be a fun place, both for me and for you. I want you to be encouraged as you read here, not the opposite.

And now I will take my greasy, non-showered, non make-upped face back to my in-laws house where I left my children in their care so I could ~~escape for a little while~~ get a little work done.

Sometimes being not perfect has benefits, she says as she sips her Iced Chai while listening to Frank Sinatra croon in the background.

Filed Under: Blogging, Motherhood Tagged With: blogging myths, imperfection, Motherhood

On the horizon

July 19, 2011 by Kelli

It’s late and I am weary. I have said my goodbyes and I have cried my tears. A few weeks ago, I thought that this final night in the town that has long been my home would be filled with emotion and anxiety, but right now I feel neither of those things. I think I am done. I don’t have any more goodbyes left and my eyes are, for the moment, dry. My throat isn’t burning and my stomach has finally settled. I’m ready to move forward.

It’s still hard. If I think too long about the people we are leaving behind, the emotion wells up again so I am choosing to not focus on that. What’s the point? It’s time to move forward and you know what?

I’m excited.

It took me a little while to feel comfortable admitting that. To do so somehow felt like a betrayal to the city and the people I love so dearly. But I also dearly love the state of Florida and I am thrilled to be able to call it my home. I’ve always wanted to be a true Floridian (I was born there so somehow I think it’s in my blood). I can’t wait to be close to my family. And the beach. In that order, of course. I’m excited to meet new people and make new friends but, of course, keep the old – I hear that one’s silver and the other gold.

I’m nervous, too.

I wish we had a house to go to. That’s been a bit of a struggle. God has been so faithful in this entire process and every single detail has worked out smoothly and easily and perfectly. Until we began house hunting and then suddenly the flow came to a screeching halt. But one thing I know – He hasn’t forgotten that tiny little detail. And the right house is out there waiting for us.

I’m trying to be patient as I wait for it.

So tomorrow we hit the road. And it’s going to be an adventure. We’ll go to Arkansas first to stay with family for a week. From there we’ll head to the Sunshine State. Just me, three kids and the dog. Alone. I can’t decide who will need to be sedated more – them or me.

I kid.

Maybe.

You’ll never know and I’ll never tell.

St. Louis will always be home. I have duel citizenship. I consider that a blessing. We have been blessed abundantly beyond anything I could have ever asked or imagined in this town. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would so enjoy coming back here after Lee and I had lived in Dallas for two years. We didn’t want to leave Texas either.

Funny how things work out, isn’t it?

Yes, I’m excited to see what comes next. We’re going to be alright. This process, more than any other, has shown me the value of clinging to one another. We have each other. It’s really all we need.

Friends are nice too, though.

I am saying see ya to most of my friends. I value friendship deeply and I am not one to move on and not look back. The people in my past have shaped who I am today. And I value loyalty. To me, friendships are not dispensable. I’ve never fully understood how they could be such to others. And so I look forward to continuing to grow and love the people God has placed in my life, both past and present. I cling to those relationships.

It makes me grateful for Facebook. The value of the internet is also very real to me now.

I do covet your prayers as we travel. Safety, Sanity and other such necessities. And we long to establish ourselves quickly into a new community. A new church family to serve and be blessed by. A new house to make our home and neighbors with whom to create memories. Will you pray for us? And every once in awhile shoot us an email if you’re so inclined. It would bless us greatly to hear from you.

And now I’m off to sleep. Tomorrow a new chapter begins.

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Life, Moving, Random Tagged With: adjusting to a move, Florida, Moving cross country, St. Louis

July

July 18, 2011 by Kelli

July, 2000 – Lee and I tie the knot

July, 2001 – We go to the Bahamas for our first anniversary

July, 2002 – We move from Dallas, Texas to St. Louis, Missouri

July, 2003 – We have our first child. And move into our first house. All in the same week

July, 2005 – We find out we’re pregnant with baby number two

July, 2007 – I am finally able to come off of bed rest after a month due to almost losing child number three

July, 2010 – Lee and I celebrate ten years of marriage

July, 2011 – We move from St. Louis, Missouri to Tampa, Florida

Apparently big things happen to us in July…

Filed Under: Family, Life Tagged With: Life, moving, Stuff that happens

You’re Welcome

July 14, 2011 by Kelli

May all of you enjoy life as much as these folks. This has hands down made my weekend.

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Random Tagged With: Awesome, Clark Retirement Center, LipDub, Michael Buble, YouTube

The Ribbons and the Ribbon Maker: A Repost

July 14, 2011 by Kelli

It’s only been a year since I first posted this, but I wanted to post it again. We are headed into a hard week. It’s time to say our official goodbyes. On top of that, we did not find a house while we were in Florida and we’re discouraged. It’s just going to be an emotional few days and as I think about the people who have been so tightly woven into our lives here in St. Louis, my heart breaks and my stomach twists. I am the ribbon being tugged away this time, preparing to be placed alone in a new town and await the beauty that comes from being rewoven.

We covet your prayers these next few days. And I pray that you can identify those who are woven into the fabric of your own life with deep gratitude and thanks.

THE RIBBONS AND THE RIBBON MAKER

Six ribbons, each a different length, a different size and all quite unique. The Ribbon Maker looked at His ribbons and decided that they would be better if woven together so He carefully and skillfully began braiding them. One over another with careful precision He wound the ribbons until they were a cord.

It was a strong cord and the weaving made each ribbon stronger. Until one day one of the ribbons felt a tug. She looked up and watched as the Ribbon Maker began pulling her away. She looked at the other ribbons in the cord. “I think the Ribbon Maker is calling me away,” she said. The ribbons looked up and saw that it was so. Though it saddened them to see a piece of the cord leave, they were thrilled when the Ribbon Maker left behind a thread – a splash of the ribbon He was taking away.

“I’m going to make a new cord using this beuatiful ribbon as my starting point,” the Ribbon Maker said as He lovingly carried away his ribbon.

Then there were five ribbons. They were still strong and with time they grew tighter and tighter as a unit. Until one day one of the ribbons looked up. She felt a tug and noticed that the Ribbon Maker was looking at her. “I think the Ribbon Maker wants to take me away,” she said to the group. The other ribbons were sad. How could they remain a strong cord if another ribbon was pulled away?

Once again, as the Ribbon Maker carefully unwove His ribbon from the rest, he left behind a thin cord. Next to the other four ribbons, the two cords left behind revealed a lovely pattern. “Don’t worry,” He told his ribbons. “I’m going to take her someplace new and begin a new cord. And you all will be stronger for it.” And with that He carried the ribbon away.

For some time, the four ribbons remained and just as the Ribbon Maker promised, they grew stronger and tighter. The threads of those who were carried away remained a strong presence in their unit and they each grew strong individually as well. But one day the Ribbon Maker looked at His cord and decided it needed a new ribbon. So, as only the Ribbon Maker can, He brought in a new, vibrant ribbon to weave into His cord. It took a bit of work to fit her in just right, but with time He had her woven in such a way that it was as if she had always been there. And the cord was strong.

Until…

One of the ribbons looked up. She felt the tug and knew it was time. All of the ribbons began to wonder why the Ribbon Maker continued to pull them away when they were so strong together.

“Trust me,” said the Ribbon Maker. “I need her to start a new cord, but her presence will always remain within this cord.”

And He carefully pulled out a thread and left it behind. The cord was beautiful and strong, though the ribbons left behind felt sad as they looked around and saw how many had been tugged away. What began as six ribbons had become five, then four, then five again and now four. Four ribbons with three vibrant threads woven in. What was the Ribbon Maker up to?

“I am weaving you together to make you strong,” He told them gently. “I need you strong so that I can use you to start new cords, strengthening my other ribbons. If I leave you all together too long what use is that to the ribbons who have no one to join with them? Don’t you know that there are threads of each of you left behind in different cords? Don’t you remember how I’ve tugged you away and used you to start new cords? My ribbons are each created with a unique beauty and that beauty is only enhanced when they are woven amongst one another. But I can’t leave my ribbons in one place for too long or they get tired, comfortable, and they lose a bit of their shine. You are a beautiful cord and you have grown into strong ribbons. I am using you to weave a beautiful tapestry. Trust Me.”

“If one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart.” Eccelesiastes 4:12

To the women who have been woven into my heart by the Ribbon Maker over the last year and a half, I love you. I am stronger because of you. I am grateful for you. The threads of those who have gone on (or are preparing to move on) are still visible and we continue to pray for you as you begin braiding a new cord of ribbons. You are being delicately woven in Costa Rica, in Dallas and, soon, in Cleveland. And for those who remain, I’m hanging on for ride because it appears to me that the Ribbon Maker has a grand plan for our braided little group.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Life, Random

House Hunting

July 12, 2011 by Kelli

It’s not nearly as fun as it looks on HGTV. But we’re encouraged. That’s what we’re up to this week! We’ve found several houses that we like that could be strong potentials for our family, but it’s a very daunting thing to try and pick a house in a town you don’t know with only a three day window. We may take some time. Or we may buy a house…we found several we liked today. We’ll see them again tomorrow.

We want to make the right decision for our children, for ourselves. It’s different down here – different in a good way and in a bad way. It’s just hard.

Hard to say, really. We don’t know what we’re doing. This is part of the adventure. The best part of all of this, though, is that we KNOW God is in control. We have no doubt and we are excited about that…if not intimidated. And nervous. And grateful. And in awe. We’ve been praying the He establish us in the area that He needs us most. I trust fully that we will see the answer to that prayer in time.

We’re also dreading the goodbyes to come.

So that’s what we’re doing this week. What are you up to?

Filed Under: Family Tagged With: moving

Eight

July 10, 2011 by Kelli

“Mom.” Hot breath on my cheek stirs me from the deepest of sleep. “I have a stomach ache. Can I sleep with you?”

I mumble something incoherent that he and I both interpret as a yes and he burrows under the covers. His hair smells clean, freshly washed just before bed. I’m poised to drift back to dreamland, but for a conscious moment, I relish him close.

He sucks in a deep breath. It’s sharp. Pain.

“Are you okay?” I ask, more awake now. He clutches his side and pants. It’s probably an air bubble, but in my sleepy haze I immediately assume appendicitis and I push on the lower right side of his abdomen. “Does that hurt?”

“Ow! Yes, that hurts!”

“Oh…sorry.”

In the next moment, he is wrapped around me. Knees and elbows swathed in a narrow frame. His nose is in my neck, his arm flung across my waist. He’s hot and I’m immediately uncomfortable. I’m so tired and my first thought is to push him off on his father who is snoring on the other side of the bed.

But then I stop. His breathing slows and falls into a quiet rhythm. In, out. In, out.

It’s just as it was back when he used to fit a little more snuggly in my arms. Back when I couldn’t wear his flip flops and his hands weren’t nearly as big as mine. Back when his hair was a white blonde fuzz on top of his round head. And instead of pushing him away, my arms engulf him and squeeze tight.

Because I miss back then. I miss it.

But for a few short hours, I got to relive those moments. I didn’t sleep much…or at all. Somehow, though, sleep didn’t matter, just as it didn’t matter back then. Because the moments fade so fast. When morning light pierced through the darkness, he finally stirred and unwound his spindly body. He looked up at me, all blue eyes and freckles. And eight years passed me by in an instant.

“Hey Mom,” he said with a sleepy grin. “Can I have some Nutella for my birthday breakfast?” And as he dashed off to conquer the day, I remained behind. Tired and teary. Grateful for a night of little sleep and thankful for those brief, still moments when he snuggled close and held tight. Those moments will soon be no more.

Happy Birthday, Sloan.

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Life, Motherhood, Sloan Tagged With: children, Love, Motherhood

It’s Not You, It’s Me

July 7, 2011 by Kelli

The kiss of death for any relationship. Can I see a show of hands, ladies? How many of you actually used this cliche line when breaking a poor boy’s heart. Relentless, we ladies are. But I’m not here to talk about relationships. I snagged my man a long time ago and have never once even considered breaking things off. I know a good catch when I find one and me? I got a good catch.

I’m talking about parenting. You know…’cause I’m a Mom Blog (Capital ‘M’ Capital ‘B’). About 6 weeks ago I sat down with a friend to discuss the ins and outs of homeschooling. Have I mentioned we’re considering that for next year? I haven’t? Ah…that’s another post for another day. But, yes, we are. I began considering it before we knew we were going to move and now I’m considering it because we’re going to move. I’ll explain more later.

As I soaked in this veteran homeschool mom’s wisdom (her oldest just graduated high school) I relayed to her my fears. My biggest fear was what if I can’t do it? What if it ruins my relationship with my child to be with him all day long? What if a wall of bitterness comes between us? What if I fail?

I didn’t like her answer. I mean, I did. But I didn’t. *sigh* I’m not making much sense, am I?

“I’ve found,” she said in her sweet and gentle way, “that whenever I am having personality conflicts with one of my kids, it’s usually my heart issue that needs to be dealt with.”

BAM! Right to the gut. You mean I have to take responsibility for my own actions? Parenting doesn’t give me a free BecauseISaidSo pass?! No body mentioned this to me when I left the hospital with my bundles of joy, by the way. There was no sign on the way out that read, “WARNING: Parenting is hard work and more than likely when you lose your patience it will be your fault and not the child’s.”

But the thing is, I know she’s right. I’ve known that a long time, but I haven’t really sat and simmered with that understanding. When I lose my temper with my kids, 9 times out of 10 the problem is mine. In the interest of full disclosure, I’ll give you an example.

Yesterday I took the kids on a bit of a Tour de St. Louis. We hit up the City Garden, the St. Louis Science Center and the Loop all in the span of about six hours. And it required a lot of in and out of the (smokin’ hot) minivan. I don’t know about your kids, but something happens to mine when they step inside a van. Whatever it is is definately not hot. The second they sit in their seats, it’s starts.

“Mom! Landon’s copying me!”

“Mom, Sloan called me a dodo-head!”

“Mom! Tia stuck her tongue out at me!”

“Mom! I’m being bullied!”

And on and on it goes until I’m blue in the face. My grandmother, when her kids were making her crazy like this, used to get in their faces and say, “My name’s not Mom anymore. It’s horses butt and you’re not allowed to say that so you can’t call me anymore.” Can I tell you how tempted I’ve been to pull that line out of my back pocket? I think her sister had a little bit of a spicer version of that line that she used on her kids…

So, riding in the car? Not so fun. Sloan tends to take the brunt of the pestering because he gives the biggest reaction. Lee and I are constantly telling him to ignore them and let us be the parents. He has a tendency to…ahem…step in and take matters into his own hands. This usually winds up with him in trouble. He’s slowly learning that lesson.

So yesterday we spent some time driving and by the third time in the van everyone was a little frayed. We had been having a lot of fun and everyone had behaved marvelously, until they got in the van and it started immediately.

And I snapped. I turned into that mom. The one that looks all wild and huffy. I pulled over on the side of the road and let loose – bad mommy style. As I drove down the street again, oppression set into my chest. I glanced in the rearview mirror at my kids faces. They were quiet, Sloan had tears in his eyes and I felt terrible.

It wasn’t them. It was me. I was tired and a little fried from a long morning. Tia and Landon had been merciless in their pestering of Sloan and he had snapped, but he was tired too. And he’s only 7. I’m old enough to supposedly know how to control myself. So I pulled the car over again. I asked them to forgive me for losing my temper and hugs went around to all.

Then we sang “Kumbaya.” It was beautiful.

When I lose my patience with my kids, it’s my fault. Because the kids are just acting like…kids. Generally I lose my patience when I haven’t taken the time to really deal with an issue. I brush it aside until it escalates out of control then I look at the kids like it’s their fault. But if I would just take the time to deal with things instantly, we wouldn’t have the escalation. All it requires on my part is a little bit of time, energy and focus. Lazy parenting is not allowed.

It’s not them…it’s me. Can anyone else relate to this?

Filed Under: Family, Motherhood Tagged With: Motherhood, Patience, St. Louis

Give My Regards to Broadway

July 6, 2011 by Kelli

After some thought, I decided to take my earlier post down. I was upset and hurt and processing, but decided that ultimately I didn’t need to have all of that out in the world wide web. To those who commented, thank you and sorry I had to subject you to my crazy. To those who missed it…lucky you. And now, without further ado…I give you more of my life..

Riveting…

When I was a little girl, I had two goals in life: Grow up and become a gold medal winning gymnast and become a famous movie star/singer. Two things happened to squash those dreams – I wasn’t a very good gymnast due to my tall frame, inflexibility and terror of the high beam (do you know how narrow that things is?!). I made it to level 7 where back handsprings on the beam were a requirement and thus ended my gymnastics career. Well, that and a stress fracture in back. I typically like to give people that as my excuse for quitting – it sounds cooler.

The famous actress thing died when I discovered that I stink at auditioning. Seriously…stink at it. Give me a room of 1,000 people and I will happily sing and ham it up all day. Give me a room of two and I go mute. Odd? Yes, I would agree. It took one semester in Baylor’s theater department for me to figure out that acting would eat me from the inside out. So I waved goodbye to the dream and grew content with the occasional performance of the “for fun” variety.

In the last six months, however, I’ve had the opportunity to get a little stage time that I don’t usually get. Singing in church doesn’t count. I actually work really hard at NOT standing out on stage at church. Because I naturally lean toward the, ahem, dramatic, I have to be very careful of my heart before I walk on stage to lead worship. It’s not about me and it’s not about performing.

So when I got the opportunity to perform…well, let’s just say the little girl inside of me skipped a little. And squealed and clapped her hands while jumping up and down. Singing in this year’s VP Parade was a big slice of heaven for the little girl in me. It was fun. Lots and lots of fun. I was backed by some of the greatest jazz and blues musicians in the business. Men like Scott Alberici and “Red” Lehr, among others.

And I had fun. It was sweltering and yes, my dress did look a bit like a muumuu, but I was on stage with a microphone in my hand singing Give My Regards to Broadway.

Fu-un.

I hope the rest of you had as magical of a 4th as I did! I’m off to squeeze in as much St. Louis fun as I can before we have to leave. It’s all happening very fast now… (click on the pictures to see them a little closer up)