Kelli | Page 55 | Minivans Are Hot

Spring Break

March 18, 2011 by Kelli

Today begins Spring Break. What are we doing so far?

We’re counting our Spring Break money, drawing on the ipad, learning to read, being goofy and playing with the basketball that was signed for us by Zac Efron himself.

I am also in possession of a signed photo. The kids think “Troy” signed them for him, but we all know Zac signed them for me. I have good friends – good friends who know people…

Yes, today starts Spring Break and much fun awaits us. In just four days we’ll be here:

Happy Weekend and Happy Break everyone!

Filed Under: Kids Tagged With: Spring Break

His face was pock marked, the divets in his cheeks glinting in the moonlight. He wore skinny jeans before skinny jeans were in and his dark windbreaker hung loosely on his gaunt frame. His frizzy hair was cut into a mullet after mullets were in style.

Were mullets ever in style?

He sauntered up to us and we froze. The still night air thickened and for the first time we questioned our decision for coming out. It was 1:00 am and our group was comprised of eighteen year olds, all of us wearing our newfound freedom like a superpower.

We were in college, man. Why wouldn’t we go out at 1:00 am?

We were standing right in the middle of a field where history and tragedy had met only three years earlier. Where crazy met the FBI. We were standing on David Koresh’s burned down Branch Davidian compound, a group of 8 or 9 college freshman who decided at the last minute to tour the compound…in the middle of the freaking night.

As we walked through what was mostly an overgrown field we saw him walking toward us and we froze. “What the BEEP are you kids doing out here?” he asked, the butt of the cigarette stuck between his lips dancing in the dark like a firefly.

We didn’t answer because we didn’t have a good answer. What the BEEP were we doing out there?

Finally someone spoke. “What are you doing out here?” he inquired.

“Aw, I was a reporter when everything went down here a few years ago.” And that’s it. That was his explanation for visiting this site of horror at 1:00 am. His reason was worse than ours.

“C’mon,” he offered, puffing smoke into the already thick Waco air, “I’ll show you around.” And with that we followed him. Why didn’t we decline and turn away? I don’t know. Why were we there in the first place?

For the next 30-45 minutes we were taken on a fascinating tour of David Koresh’s compound complete with the most colorful tour guide I’ve ever known. His name was Michael. I don’t think he was a reporter. My first clue was when he took us to what looked like a fox hole in the ground and regaled us with tales of David himself hiding there. He showed us bullet holes in the back of a burned out bus and told us about the children and wives hiding throughout the compound.

He knew more than what an average news reporter should have known. And suddenly I knew more than an average eighteen year old should have known.

There were a couple of voices of reason who were persistently trying to convince us to leave. Girls who were uncomfortable with this man’s in depth knowledge and offensive language. Maybe we should have listened to their reasoning and left, but the rest of us were so intrigued that we squelched wisdom and followed curiosity.

We all know what happened to the cat who did the same, right?

At one point, one of these voices of reason spoke up as Michael set forth an obsenity filled rant on what went down on the land on which we stood.

“Um, sir?” she said, her voice small but defiant. “Could you please watch your language? I find it very offensive.”

Insert very awkward pause.

And on we went, Michael not toning down his color and no one else daring to say another word. Finally we were back where we started and we stood huddled together, a group of foolish youth who had just had an unexpected adventure.

“It would probably be best if you kids didn’t come out here in the middle of the night again,” Michael said. “Sometimes people come out here to defend the land and the people in the house over there have guns.”

He gestured to a house a few meters from the property. For the first time it dawned on me that maybe we weren’t even supposed to be here in the middle of the night. I do believe we all suffered from freshman brain – you know where common sense flees for a period of time and that which once seemed crazy now seemed perfectly normal.

We nodded, thanked him for showing us around and quickly drove back to the Baylor campus, all of us talking a mile a minute. Was he really a reporter? Was he a Branch Davidian? How did he know all of that?

I never visited Koresh’s compound again. I’ve never seen it in the daylight. I’ve heard that they have since built a museum on the grounds and that it is better protected than it was back then.

But I saw all I needed to see that sticky Texas night. It was night that I can honestly say was not one of my finest life moments…

But what an adventure, huh?!

Filed Under: blast from the past, funny stuff that happens, Kids do the darndest things, Life, Random, things I don't need to hear Tagged With: Branch Davidians, David Koresh, things you shouldn't do

Images

March 16, 2011 by Kelli

This morning I stepped outside and smelled spring. She is fighting back at Old Man Winter and this morning I do believe she won. It smells fresh, new and warm. According to Tia, “It smells like Florida.”

The Plague that settled upon our house finally caught up to me. I thought that I just might escape it, but alas, it wasn’t to be. It appears that some unknown force has deposited two ton sandbags in my sinuses, has jackhammered behind my eyes and has run a cheese grater down my throat. I do believe that someone then lit a match and tossed it up my nostril, laughing maniacally as everything from my neck up began to burn.

How’s that for imagery?

I’ve been taking so many vitamins that I practically glow in the dark so I was quite certain I would laugh in the face of this crud. Instead it is laughing at me and my flaming sinuses.

Nyquil gives me strange dreams. Two night ago I spent half the night trying to outrun a very cunning snake. I climbed trees and hid under beds but everywhere I turned the snake was there, licking his lips in anticipation. I finally woke up and had to convince myself that I wasn’t actually being chased by a 50 foot python.

I then fell back to sleep and dreamt that the President of the United States was the target of an assassination plot and I was the one tasked with thwarting this plot. Greg Kinnear was the President and I was bound and determined to save him.

Uuuuuummmmm….

Last night’s dreams again involved critters chasing me as well as preparations to welcome a new child into our family. This was all in the same dream. It was as if I would switch from one scene to another and neither related to the other. I woke up very confused.

And no, I’m not pregnant. I’m just sick. And a little drugged up.

I found a Russian App for the iPad and the kids are playing it right now. It does my heart good to know that they are enjoying the language that is so near and dear to my heart. They are by no means fluent and I don’t expect them to be, but I do hope that someday they will share my love for all things Russian/Ukrainian and that can be something that we share as a family.

My house exploded this morning. Yesterday it was clean and today it’s…not. I’m not sure how that happens but it seems to happen multiple times a day. I clean up, the house throws up and so on and so forth. I don’t know how we’re ever going to sell this house.

On Tuesdays, the kids and I take a Russian theater class. The teacher is hilarious and takes her craft seriously. Yesterday she asked us to pretend we were holding a flower and wanted us to breathe in slowly through our noses then exhale through our mouths. We were to imagine the smell of the flower.

Sloan misunderstood her directions and after a couple of breaths leaned over to me and stage whispered, “Are we pretending to smoke?! ‘Cause that’s bad for you.”

Speaking of images, like everyone else I am horrified by the scenes coming from Japan. The damage is spectacular and horrifying and my heart goes out to the thousnads of people who have been so devastatingly affected. For a great way to help out Japan, go to my friend Nicole’s blog.

Want to see some truly beautiful images? Visit my sister-in-law, Becke’s blog and look at the pictures she took on her photo walk. She’s just a tiny bit talented with a camera…

This is the part of the post where I sign off. I have to hop in my smokin’ hot minivan and play mom for the rest of the day.

Peace out.

I’m a dork…

Filed Under: Random, Sickness Tagged With: images, Japana, Random, sick

On Earaches and Mary

March 14, 2011 by Kelli

On Friday night Landon asked to go to bed. This was after he asked to take a nap on Friday afternoon and he slept for two hours.

Not normal.

At 11:00 Friday Landon woke up crying. He was at the tail end of a cold so a little medicine, a kiss and a cup of water and everyone settled once again. Until…

One O’clock rolled around and we heard the desperate pleas of our little one. And he never went back to sleep.

“My eeaaaw huwts,” he cried all night, clutching at his left ear. We rocked and sang and he’d slowly drift to sleep only to jolt awake again with a cry. Back and forth we went between his room and our own room, Lee and I alternating trying to sleep and holding our hurting boy. We debated heading to the ER but knew it was an ear infection and decided to wait it out until morning.

At 5:30 we put in High School Musical and I dozed on the couch. By 9:00 we were in the pediatrician’s office where it was declared he had a nasty inner ear infection with a painful looking bulge and by 10:30 we were home with a little boy who looked like this.

Not only did he look exhausted, he also look abused due to an unfortunate run in with the corner of the iPad the night before that left him with a shiner. He was pitiful and in pain most of Saturday but by Sunday morning had perked up considerably thanks to numbing drops, antibiotics and twleve hours of solid sleep. We were on the mend, and we were happy.

When his ear began dripping blood on Sunday morning we began fast and furiously treating what we think may have been a slight perforation in his ear drum with both antibiotic ear drops and oral antibiotics as we are flying a week from tomorrow and we need his ear healed. So far the pediatrician has cleared us to fly and is confident that he will be fine by the time we leave. This is a good thing because if she said he wouldn’t be I was already planning the car trip.

Sunday afternoon I went to a practice for an Easter drama that a few of us are putting on on Easter Sunday. It’s a beautiful piece of work and I found myself very emotional at one point when the character of Christ speaks the word, “Mother?” This happens during the crucifixion scene.

And my heart broke a little as I pictured Mary watching her baby suffer. My heart crumbled just seeing Landon suffer through ear pain, but Mary watched her son beaten, bruised and hung. She watched the blood drain from the very hands that she held as a small child. She saw the flesh torn from the back of the boy she bathed as a boy.

She suffered.

As my children grow I’m realizing more and more that I will always and forever see the infant form of them. Sloan is developing a man-child look about him and yet I still see the expressive toddler who marveled at the moon. Tia’s face matures a little more each day and yet I still see the big-eyed infant who couldn’t wait to conquer the world.

Landon is right where I want him right now. He is today who I will never forget.

Mary felt the same way. I understand that more and more the longer I parent. She saw the man who hung on the cross, but did her mind flash to him toddling into her arms? It most surely did. Did she remember sloppy kisses and delighted laughter? I’m sure of it. As she stared at his arms stretched wide across the beams, did her own arms ache with the memory of the weight of her infant? Did she smell the stench of the stable and see the dark, round eyes of her firstborn nuzzled against her chest?

What kind of memories flooded her mind’s eye?

And as he suffered and died slowly, did she experience pain herself? What was swirling through her heart? It pains me to even think about it, as it pained me to watch my toddler clutch at his ear in pain.

When they hurt, we hurt.

And then, when she heard He was alive – what did she feel? What kind if disbelief and shock and fear and joy coursed through her veins? When she saw His resurrected body, did she still see the little boy she raised or was He different somehow? Did He give her an extra long hug and a kiss on the cheek, a balm to the wound she had suffered three days before?

I wonder about these things.

Mary was a mother.

I am a mother.

And so I ponder.

Filed Under: Easter, faith, Family, Holidays, Kids, Landon, Motherhood Tagged With: Christ, Crucifixion, Easter, Mary, Resurrection, thoughts

The Spoils of His Booty

March 11, 2011 by Kelli

Last Saturday, Lee and I joined sweet friends at an auction/fundraiser for their kid’s school. We spent the first hour and a half perusing the silent auction items, wishing we had the money to bid on every item and reminding ourselves that we’re trying to sell and buy a house so keep your hands to yourself and don’t get into a bidding war because By God you might win!

When our friend Lauren, a sophomore at this high school, offered us the chance to purchase tickets giving us the opportunity to play the game Heads or Tails we decided this was a fun way to invest in the school without feeling guilty later. So we bought two tickets for forty bucks.

And we were happy.

Midway through the auction, as we were sitting on our hands not bidding on items and trips and others such delights, the game of Heads and Tails was introduced. Everyone who had puchased a ticket stood up and had to choose: hands on your head or hands on your…tail. Lee chose tail, I chose head.

Tails won.

And on and on it went with Lee doing his best to read the odds and somehow managing to choose right every time. And then it was down to two – Lee and another woman. Being the gentleman that he is, he let her choose first. She put her hands on her head, he put his hands on his backside.

The coin flipped and spun in the air, glittering and giggling as it danced back in the palm of the MC. He flipped it over on top of his opposite hand and slowly pulled his hand away as one of the teenagers stepped forward to read the results.

Tails!

Everyone cheered. I had a minor heart attack. Lee turned red and laughed and nodded his thanks then came back to our table to sit down as everyone congratulated him. “What are the odds?!” I said. “Well, they’re 50/50,” said a man across the table. Hardy, har, har…

“So what did I win?” Lee asked.

Well…

It’s a terrible picture, but that there is our brand new iPad! We are now the proud owners of a Mac product and we feel terribly cool because of it. The kids are certain we won it for them and Lee has quickly come to realize that he actually won it for me.

This totally beats an oversized stuffed carnival animal.

So given that Lee won this by holding onto his backside, it’s safe to say his booty is a bit of a lucky charm. Go ahead and rub it for luck next time you see him, if you want.

I’m kidding! Don’t do that. That would be weird and uncomfortable for everyone involved.

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Lee Tagged With: iPad, Mac

A few of my favorite things

March 10, 2011 by Kelli

As I begin seriously working on my novel again, I’ve spent some time reading through the books that bring me the most inspiration. Books that move my heart, make me laugh, make me cry and make me think that I could maybe, possibly write prose so poetic you feel as if you’re standing in the middle of the action. Here are a few of the books that move me:

The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver: I read this book in college and remember being stunned at the magic that sprang forth from each page. This book is a tragedy from start to finish, but it’s also poetry in motion. It’s so beautifully written that you don’t notice the heartache until it’s right on top of you.

The Girl with the Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier: I love this book. It is also tragic, but in a less blatant form. It’s a historical novel, which is my favorite kind of book and the imagery is so vivid that you feel like you’re a part of the Vermeer painting yourself.

Anna Karenina by Lev Tolstoy: I love this novel. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. This book makes me happy. And sad. But mostly happy.

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte: Another beautiful tale of love and tragedy. After reading this book I often find myself writing Thee and Thou as if it’s natural, every day language…

Aside from books, here are a few more of my favorite things.

Coffeemate Peppermint Mocha Creamer: I was positive that this was only a holiday flavoring offered for Christmas so every time I go to the store I buy more of this in the fear that they’re going to yank it off the shelves. So far they haven’t, but I’m not taking any chances. I’ve got seven bottles of it in my fridge.

You know that moment when you walk into your kids’ rooms after lights out and they’re sound asleep, their mouths open and their faces peaceful? You lean down and smell their hair and breathe in the scents of lavendar and lotion, then you gently kiss their soft, squishy cheeks.

That is so my favorite thing.

My seven year old says the funniest things. My favorite from just this morning was when I pulled out the nail clippers to tackle the claws he likes to call toes.

“No! Don’t clip my toenails!” he cried. “Why?” I asked. “Because they’re my weapons,” came the reply. “I need them in case Tia and Landon start attacking me.”

Listening to his reasoning is definately one of my favorite things.

Sleeping. Last night I slept eight and a half hours uninterrupted. I’m fairly certain I didn’t move the entire night. And that is one of my favorite things.

What are a few of your favorite things?

Filed Under: Random Tagged With: anna karenina, books, favorite things, jane eyre, Kids, the girl with the pearl earring, the poisonwood bible

The one with the bags under my eyes

March 9, 2011 by Kelli

The clock read 4:32 am.

“Moooooommmmmyyyyyy,” came the pitiful cry. I quickly got up and went to Tia’s room. She is my sleeper. She is the child who could sleep through any illness, the one who once vomited then went back to sleep in it.

Gross.

So when she cries out in the middle of the night, there’s usually a good reason for it. Usually.

“What’s wrong,” I asked, kneeling by her bed. Her eyes were closed. She was asleep. Like a cruel joke she roused me from my bed then fell back into a deep slumber. I stumbled back to bed.

The clock read 4:36 and I felt the heat of little eyes staring at me from the bedside. “Tia, what’s wrong, honey?” I mumbled.

“I had a bad dream about tornados,” she wimpered. We can all thank her big brother for that phobia. I got up and walked her back to her room and put her back in bed. “Think about happy things,” I told her. “Think of the beach and ice cream and gymnastics.”

I fell back into my bed a minute later.

The clock read 4:40.

“Moooom?” Her call floated down the hallway like bad alarm that won’t go off. I waited. Maybe she would think I was asleep and she’d give up. All rationality had left my weary body at that point. “Moooom?”

I sat up and hissed, “Tia, hush!”

A few minutes later. “Moooom?” With less sympathy and a modicum more frustration, I flung the covers off my body and briskly walked to her room.

“Tia! What?!”

“I sneezed,” she said, her tiny face peeking out from under the mountain of blankets.

I did not respond. I held onto my own advice of When you don’t have something nice to say, Ssshhh! Say nothing.

That was two nights ago. Last night the same situation played itself out only she complained of leg and head pain (I believe she’s growing) and she woke up crying because she had a nightmare that Sloan was scratching her.

So if you run into me today and notice the bags under my eyes, or think you can make out Route 66 in the red lines criss crossing my eyeballs, now you’ll know why. I have slept all night in more than two weeks.

T-Minus 13 days until we leave for Florida. I may not sleep anymore down there, but at least I’ll get a little tan to mask the bags. That’s my happy dream…

Filed Under: Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Motherhood, things I don't need to hear, Tia Tagged With: kids sleeping through the night, Mom fatigue, Motherhood

The Debate of our Generation

March 6, 2011 by Kelli

I try to keep things light around here. I don’t like starting fights and I don’t like confrontation. I tried all of that some in the past and, honestly, wasn’t crazy about the drama that followed. So I stopped.

But this is not something that I can keep silent about any longer. I think this is an important issue that we should be discussing. I think it’s time we all took a deep breath and had a reasonable conversation like the grown ups that we are. This issue is very sensitive to some and I’m not sure that there’s a right or wrong answer, but I do know we need to discuss.

Watch the video and then let me know YOUR thoughts. How do you feel about this issue? This may be the debate of our generation so I want to hear what you have to say. And remember, we are all entitled to our own opinions. Don’t be afraid to share how you really feel. This is a safe place…

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Minivans, the debate of our generation, the great debate

Digging Down Deep

March 3, 2011 by Kelli

Today is one of those days when I feel like I’m done. I have nothing left. I gave so much of myself last week and I used every bit of my reserve energy to survive and get through that I have little left this week. Lee is home now, which helps, but unfortunately work is such that I’m still alone a lot, with sick children, a house to pack (we’re hoping to put it on the market in a few weeks) and a long list of other responsibilities staring me in the face.

And I am exhausted. So tired that my eyes actually ache. And given the fact that I have a three year old who refuses to nap, afternoon rest is likely not in my forecast. *sad face*

This is one of those days/weeks that I am going to need to dig down deep. One of those days/weeks when I have nothing left of my own to offer. One of those days/weeks when my time with my Bible is like lapping from the sweet stream waters after an arduous hike.

I’m digging down deep. I am in survival mode. In this fog I honestly don’t see an end in sight, but I know there is one. In three weeks I’ll be in Florida. The Beach is waiting for me. And my mom will be there. Ah! Suddenly there is a small light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s called Spring Break.

What do you all do when you have to dig deep? What gets you through those longs days/weeks/months/years when life is overwhelmingly full?

Filed Under: Family, Life, Motherhood, Travel Tagged With: digging deep, mommy fatigue, Spring Break