Kick off the season of giving by…giving!

November 11, 2013 by Kelli

One of the traditions that we’ve started with our kids, which has fast become our favorite tradition, is our annual Christmas party. Every time we do this, we get more and more excited about it, and I feel less and less intimidated.

The party is more than a simple gathering of neighbors, family and friends, though that is a lovely benefit. This is a chance to unite with the people around us in a way that makes an impact. While needs and hardships are a reality every day of the year, they are often magnified during the holidays. A child in the hospital is always traumatic, but especially so at Christmas when you long for nothing more than the comfort of sitting at home.

So what better way to bless a family in need than to bring Christmas to them?

I love throwing this Christmas party. It’s so fun to watch the kids get it. Children get a bad rap for being selfish, demanding and bratty at Christmas, but I can guarantee that if you give a child a chance to give to others, they will surprise you every single time.

For the past four years, Lee and I have used our Christmas party as a toy drive. Guests bring new, unwrapped toys to the party, which we then take and deliver to The Ronald McDonald House. These gifts are given to families who experience lengthy, expensive stays in the hospital with their children. It’s hard to describe the delight we see in our children, and our guests, as they place their gifts on the growing pile.

They love to know they’re making a difference.

This year, we’ve decided to up the ante on our annual Christmas party. We want to show our children that we can make a difference in the world, and we can having fun doing so!

We will not only be accepting gifts for the local Ronald McDonald House, but we’re also asking guests to bring an old pair of jeans, and a pair of scissors. Working alongside Sole Hope, we will be making shoes for children in Uganda out of our old, outgrown pairs of jeans.

I learned about Sole Hope a few weeks ago at Allume, and I was blown away by the simplicity of this organization. Following a simple pattern, you cut out your old jeans and mail the cut pieces back to the organization. They then send the patterns to Uganda where they have trained workers who use the rubber from old tires to turn the jeans into shoes.

Brilliant and so, so easy!

So not only will our little band of neighbors and friends be impacting our own city, we also have the privilege of blessing children half a world away. Changing the world isn’t nearly as difficult as it seems, and the earlier we can show that to our kids, the better they will understand that making a difference is as easy as having a party in the back yard.

What are ways that you celebrate giving during the holidays?

Filed Under: Christmas, faith, Family, Holidays, Kids, Life, Ministry Tagged With: Christmas, Do Good, giving, Sole Hope, The Ronald McDonald House

Family Game Night at its Best

September 30, 2013 by Kelli

If your family is like ours, then you are constantly looking for ways to connect with one another and enjoy one another with as few arguments as possible, and without the crutch of the television constantly entertaining you. Family Game Night is always enjoyable, but only if you have the right game.

We totally found that game!

First a little background:

A few weeks ago, I received an email from a dear friend from the past. Thanks to the world of Facebook we can all feel somewhat connected, but there’s something lovely about getting a personal message from someone who once played a significant role in your life.

My friend, Kirk, contacted me about a game that his wife Jane developed. He sent me the game to try out with my family, and if we enjoyed it, asked if I would tell my readers about it, and oh my goodness, we so enjoyed this game.

Instructures is a fast paced game for groups, and it forces you to work together as a team, to problem solve and strategize, and to control your desire-to-win impulses and not throw blocks at your teammates when they let you down.

Jane developed the idea for the game years ago while teaching VBS. She had the children in her group stand behind a curtain with styrofoam cups and follow her voice commands to build a structure out of the cups. If they listened well, they’d build the structure correctly – if they didn’t listen well, it would fall.

The application was to show the children how Noah had to listen closely to God to build the Ark. There weren’t drawn up blue prints. God told him what to build and how to build, and Noah had to listen closely and follow those directions.

Jane noticed how much fun the kids had playing this game, and the idea for Instructures was born.

Taking her simple idea, Jane and Kirk worked together to develop an entire game. They had a friend design the blocks, and Kirk took the designs to an Amish wood working shop in Bowling Green, Missouri and asked if they would be willing to cut the pieces for them – 38,000 of them. They had the cards and game pieces printed, gathered their Amish wood pieces, and in their basement with their children, they packaged the first 1,000 games themselves.

Then they began to tell people about it.

In 2011, Jane entered the game in a contest put on by the Mensa Society – the Mensa Mind Games. Out of 59 entries, Instructures won, and it is now being offered online, and in select stores.

When we sat down to play with the kids, I wasn’t sure if we would like it, but within minutes I realized that this game is Fun with a capital ‘F’! By the end of the game, one person in our family (who shall remain unnamed) wet their pants from laughing so hard.

We all also realized that should we ever play this game again, we want to be on Tia’s team, because this game combines two of her greatest strengths – Competition and Bossing People Around.

There are 72 pairs of “blue prints” inside the game, and they are broken up based on difficulty. You split up in two teams, and one person on the team acts as “foreman.” The foreman from each team take one set of matching blue prints, and they look at the picture on the card and tell their teammates how to build the structure. The first team to finish shouts DONE! and the other team inspects. If the structure was built correctly, you roll the die to move forward on the board. If it was built incorrectly, you roll the die to move backward.

There are challenges on the board that up the ante, such as the foremen giving instructions without speaking, or turning around and giving instructions without looking to see if the team is doing it correctly. These added a level of suspense to the game that made it even more fun.

The game was a little too hard for Landon. He couldn’t quite keep up, so we designated him the roller of the die and mover of the pieces. He also shot this video of us playing. Notice how focused Tia is in her instructions. Lee began to worry she was going to harm him if he didn’t quickly and efficiently heed her instructions. (And yes, they won. I want to be on Tia’s team next time…)

I cannot recommend this game more highly. It is great for adults and children. It requires you to think quickly, to listen hard, and to use your wits to beat your opponent. If you’re looking for a great new addition to Family Game Night, this is it.

(Click here to order.)

Disclaimer: I was given Instructures for the purposes of review. I am not being compensated for this post. All opinions expressed are my own.

Filed Under: Family, Kids Tagged With: Family, Instructures, Jane's Games, Kids, Mensa Mind Games, playing games with kids

Crazy is as Crazy does so don’t miss the Crazy, Yo!

September 20, 2013 by Kelli

Daddy has been out of town for a week. Five solid days of crazy without the buffer of a male voice to TAME SAID CRAZY!

I’ve done fairly well, but last night I hit a wall. Tired, I was. Exhausted. I wanted the small children in my midst to go to bed. To sleep. Because honestly I was starting to feel a bit like this:

So we made it home from soccer practice, had the obligatory ice cream snack, then I asked the small children to stop screaming (why with all the screaming?!) and go get ready for bed. Instead, this happened:

Now my first reaction was to get angry because HELLO?! Did you not hear the words that came from my mouth? I said get ready for bed, not put on cheesy music and have an air guitar jam session.

But then I took a breath and simmered down a minute to actually watch them, and a strange thing happened.

I laughed. I laughed because these small children are freaks in the best sense of the word. They’re so weird and I do really love their weirdness.

It became quickly apparent that however ready I was for bed, they were not ready to the same degree. So we put on our shoes, grabbed the dog, and took her on a walk. In the dark. In the rain.

They ran around the block yelling and somersaulting through every. single. yard. (Sorry neighbors.) And we all laughed, which felt good because this solo parenting thing can be a drag.

We made it home and through the bedtime routine quickly and when the house was finally, mercifully quiet I whispered a prayer of thanks before falling into bed. I’m glad I didn’t miss that moment last night.

That crazy moment, with my little freaks.

Happy Friday, friends. May your weekend be filled with just enough crazy to keep you laughing. *wink wink*

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: Crazy town, Exhausted Mom, Family Guy, Kids, we are freaks

When you wish you could see Him face to face…or back

September 18, 2013 by Kelli

A few weeks ago, on a whim, I decided to join the Tuesday morning Bible study at our church. The bratty teenager in me had been battling this decision for some time, because somehow I still feel like I’m young enough to say that the only people who attend Tuesday morning Bible studies are women who are older. And then I looked in the mirror, tallied up the wrinkles, remembered that I have three elementary age children and swallowed the pill of reality.

But I was apprehensive.

We are going through Beth Moore’s The Patriarch’s, and you guys we are three weeks in and it is completely wrecking my already tender heart. I feel like it was written just for me to experience at just this time. Had I done this study a year ago, I wouldn’t have been nearly as moved as I am today.

Last week’s lessons were particularly challenging, especially given the fact that last week was when I finally, fully laid down the adoption and said so out loud. Oh how my heart ached through the week. My soul was weary and weepy.

Then I read the story of Hagar and for a few days my spirit grew restless and anxious.

For those who may not know, Hagar was an Egyptian slave who lived in the house of Abram, serving as his wife, Sarai’s maid. Though Abram had been promised an heir by God, he and Sarai had yet to have a child and Sarai, in her grief and impatience, commanded Abram to take her maid as his wife.

“Since the Lord has prevented me from bearing children, go to my slave; perhaps I can have children by her,” Sarai told her husband, and Abram agreed. (Genesis 16:2)

It’s so easy to pick apart this passage and point out the blatant and glaring errors in this plot, but it’s good to remember a few things. First, as wrong and ugly as that practice sounds, it was not uncommon in those days. A female servant becoming a second wife for the purposes of bearing children was not considered wrong then, and though not a designed or desired practice by God, to Abram it could have seemed like a practical solution to what seemed to be a real problem.

Second, God uses flawed people who struggle in their faith to carry out His plans and promises and thank goodness He does, amen?

So Hagar and Abram conceived a child and Sarai, naturally, writhed in jealousy and bitterness because she got what she wanted but did not consider the outcome of such an ill conceived plan. Things got so uncomfortable that Hagar fled the house, escaping her mistress’s cruelty and this is where the story took the breath straight from my lungs.

As she rested in the wilderness, an Angel of the Lord found her and comforted her in her emotional suffering. He told her to return to Abram’s house and that the child she carried, who was to be named Ishmael, would receive a promise of many offspring.

There, in that wilderness place, Hagar became the only person, male or female, in the Old Testament to give God a name. The God who Sees.

“I have now seen the One who sees me,” Hagar said when the mist of the moment faded away. (Genesis 16:13)

God saw her pain and her distress and He met with her. It is generally believed that the Angel of the Lord referred to in Genesis 16:7 was God Himself and, as Beth Moore so beautifully explains, the literal Hebrew translation of Hagar’s words is “Have I really seen the back of Him who sees me?”

In Exodus 33:20, God allows Moses to see Him, but He had to do so from inside the cleft of a rock and he could only catch a glimpse of God’s back as He passed by because God’s glory is too great for our feeble human eyes. “You cannot see my face,” God spoke. “For no one can see me and live.”

I was so struck by this lesson. First, just the reminder that God sees us in our distress, when the wilderness closes in, was something I desperately needed because I have felt so terribly lost and alone this year. But He sees and He knows and the comfort that brings is difficult to describe.

But I had another emotion, one so great that I almost felt a panic well up inside me – I wished I could see Him. I longed so desperately to see His back, to have a physical, real and tangible glimpse of Him. I wished that He still revealed Himself to us today the way He did in Old Testament times. I wished I didn’t have to listen so hard for that still small voice because what I wouldn’t give for a burning bush right now.

It took me a few days to work past that before I could embrace the Truth of today: We have the revealed God available to us in scripture, and His power ignites from the pages of His word. We glimpse His back when we read His Words in scripture. He hasn’t need to issue in person promises anymore, because all of His promises were complete in the life, death and resurrection of Christ. And so what now?

I look up and praise the One who sees me. He has revealed Himself to me, and His glory is evident every day. I will likely never have a moment when I come face to face with Him incarnate on this earth, but that does not diminish His power or glory, and oh does it make the prospect of heaven seem so much sweeter.

If you, like me, are longing to see His face today, take comfort in the fact that He Sees yours, and rejoice in the knowledge that you are not alone. I am praying for everyone who reads these words, that they would have a fresh encounter with the God who Sees.

Happy Wednesday, sweet friends.

Filed Under: Adoption, faith, Family, Grace Tagged With: Adoption, Beth Moore, faith, God, Grace, grief, The God who Sees, The Patriarchs

Drive Mercy

September 13, 2013 by Kelli

It’s hard to put into words the admiration I hold for Kristen and her husband. It would make her uncomfortable to know I admire her. Though I’ve never met her personally, I know from a few shared emails and from years of reading her blog that she doesn’t want any credit for the amazing work that’s being done through Mercy House Kenya.

My admiration for her and her husband does not come from the results of their work, but rather from the evidence of their obedience. They said “yes” to a really, really hard thing. They chose to follow the path of, as she calls it, a “God-sized dream.”

There’s a true beauty in obedience. When we’re willing to sacrifice everything, to lay it all down and follow the hard path, amazing things can happen. We’re all on the path to obedience in some way or another, whether we know it or not. It could be choosing to raise our children a specific way, following a dream, or simply living in a way that inspires others.

This week, Lee and I took a final step of obedience. Actually, this step was more mine than his, but he’s walked each step of the way with me. This week we officially acknowledged, out loud, our decision to stop pursuing adoption for the time being. In making this decision, we felt like the best way to lay this dream and longing down on the altar of obedience was to return the funds that were donated to us for the purpose of adoption.

It no longer felt right to keep those funds for something that may never happen.

I hate writing these things. I hate that I’ve had to lay this desire down. I wish this wasn’t my lot of obedience. And yet…

There’s something beautiful about sacrificing for obedience. There’s a new hope that’s birthed from fully dying to self and opening your hands wide – to saying “Yes” when it hurts.

Kristen and Terrell said yes to what God had planned. They felt a calling that, at first, seemed ambiguous and cloudy. Help women and babies in Africa. Where do you even go with a desire like that? If you’ve read along with Kristen’s journey and the start of Mercy House Kenya, then you know that what started as an ambiguous idea has turned into a huge dream that is currently changing the lives of 12 young mothers and their babies.

Mercy House Kenya is more than a maternity home – it is a place where mothers and children are kept safe, and are kept together. Mercy House is orphan prevention, and in this time of uncertainty in our own family, Lee and I feel passionate about remaining at work in the process of orphan care. If we can’t bring one to our home, then by God I want to make sure children remain in their own homes.

Right now, you and I have an amazing opportunity to do something big – something huge. And we can do it from right here, in our own homes. We can go to Kenya today without leaving the comfort of our own homes.

Mercy House and (in)courage have teamed up with a group of bloggers to kick start a four month campaign to help provide essentials to the safety and sustainability of Mercy House and it’s 12 moms and 12 babies.

There are five projects that we would love to see completed just in time for Christmas and Phase 1? The phase you and I are jumping in on? It’s perfect.

We are going to be a part of raising $8,750 that will help purchase a new van for Mercy House.

What do you think? Can we bring a little Minivans Are Hot to Kenya?!

I THINK WE CAN!

As of yesterday, we are almost half way to this goal. Today, by the end of the day, I’d love to see the funds fully raised for the new Mercy House van. This is something worth rallying for, my friends! This is a powerful testimony of the amazing things we can do together when we’re willing to say “yes!”

Will you join us as we help buy a van for these 12 mothers and their young ones? Will you help us change lives on the other side of the world? Will you be a part of the miracle? Here’s how it works:

Click this link to head over to the Pure Charity page, which will allow you to give directly to the purchase of a new Mercy House van.

You can see the other projects that are coming up in the next few weeks by clicking here. By Christmas, we’d love to see $74,000 raised to complete all five necessary projects. This is huge. This is the power of social media at it’s very finest. This is the way to bless and be blessed.

So who’s in? Who wants to be a part of this one really big thing?

Would you do me a favor and share what’s going on here? Would you tell your friends? Let’s work together to see this first phase of (in)Mercy completed by the end of the day.

May your “yes” and my own be blessed today. Happy Friday, friends.

Filed Under: Adoption, Blogging, faith, Family, Grace, Kids, Ministry Tagged With: (in)courage, (in)Mercy, Mercy House Kenya, Obedience, orphan prevention, Pure Charity, Saying Yes to God

I’m Just a Mom in a Minivan

September 12, 2013 by Kelli

Last night, my husband read me an Op-Ed written by Russian President Vladimir Putin and published in the New York Times. Upon hearing the first few paragraphs, I couldn’t help but shrug my shoulders and reluctantly find myself nodding in agreement with his assessment of the current situation with Syria.

By the end of the article, however, I was angry. When we’ve been publicly chastised by a foreign leader inside our own newspapers, something has gone drastically, drastically wrong.

All day long yesterday, I had a knot in my stomach as I considered the current political situation of our country and the unrest around the world. I felt frustrated and angry. I tried to push those feelings aside, because really who am I to be angry? I’m a white, middle class mother of three who lives in a nice house, has plenty of food and drives a (smokin’ hot) minivan across town. My husband has a good job and we are healthy.

Somehow I feel like these things give me less of a right to be angry. Who am I to complain? What have I got to be angry about?

It dawned on me this morning, however, that I have every right to be angry. In fact, I have three solid reasons to feel anger. I kissed them all good bye this morning and as the bus drove off a deep sadness joined the anger burning in my chest. I’m both sad and angry – two equally distressing emotions that lay heavy against my heart.

I have been severely let down by the men and women who were elected to serve our country – the people who are supposed to be my voice. I shudder to think of all that could go wrong in the remaining three years of this president’s term. I’m frightened to think of all that could change leaving my children in a permanently neutered world.

I’m angry because the leaders who were supposed to represent me and my family have ignored us. They’ve turned their backs on us. They are more interested in political games and popularity posturing than they are in my interests. They’re busy trying to put round rolls on square pegs.

And in the meantime, I’m sitting on the sidelines, hands folded patiently, knuckles growing white as I try to maintain control. I’m looking at my children and praying they stay healthy because the current landscape of healthcare has changed so much that visiting the doctor outside of our regular well child visits can quickly become a financial burden. And don’t even get me started on antibiotics.

I’m listening to news of a potential involvement in a war that doesn’t belong to us and my hands begin to tremble. I resist the urge to run to Facebook and air out all my pent up anger ALL IN CAPS FOR EFFECT, because what good will it do? It doesn’t matter how I feel – they’re going to do what they want to do and isn’t that sad?

I read the news articles and shake my head at the back and forth between our leaders who I no longer feel are working in the best interest of my family. They’re posturing themselves for the next election. They’re playing chess, drawing red lines in the sand, trying to save face.

They’re playing roulette with my children’s future and I don’t appreciate it.

By nature I’m a glass half full kind of girl. I’m prone to hope, prone to look for the best, always assuming that things can only get better. I try hard not to speak ill of my leaders. There is so much noise in the world right now. So many people flinging their opinions out in a way that is hateful and spiteful and disrespectful. I don’t want to add to the fray.

I have a deep amount of respect for the office of President. I don’t for a second assume it to be an easy job. I respect anyone who even has the aspirations to become president because I know that the path is marred with stress, difficulty and a huge amount of responsibility.

Because I have such a deep respect for the office, it pains me to think ill of the man in office. Though I did not offer him my vote, when it was all said in done, I hoped to see him succeed, because his success would directly impact my family. Perhaps he thinks he has succeeded. I don’t really know – I don’t know what to think anymore.

I know what I can do, though : I know that I will continue to chauffer my children in my (smokin’ hot) minivan, and as I do I will teach them the things that made our country great. I’ll tell them what it means to serve your country, to serve God, to serve others. I’ll teach them the Constitution and try to help them decipher it in a world that is hell bent on tearing it apart.

I will teach them to be kind and generous. I will teach them to care for others and love well. I will teach them what true leadership looks like. I’ll teach them to respect their leaders even when they disagree. I’ll teach them to stand up for what’s right even if it isn’t popular.

I’ll do all these things and I will continue to cling to the little strand of hope I have left that things will get better – that maybe the politicians will hear me and will want to earn my trust back. It seems unlikely because, after all, I’m “just” a mom in a minivan.

But I can hope…right?

Filed Under: faith, Family, politics Tagged With: Disappointment, Minivan Mom, politics, Putin's Open Letter, Syria

The Post About Hair

September 9, 2013 by Kelli

We tumble out of the car after church and rush into the house, a bundle of nerves and excitement.

“I’m scared,” she says, her eyes a little bigger than usual. “What if I mess up?”

“Go put on your leotard and your warm ups and we’ll talk about it,” I answer.

Ten minutes later she sits at the table and I begin brushing her long, kind of thin, white-blonde, mousy hair. Bless her precious little heart, she is the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen, but she definitely drew the short stick when it came to hair.

As she talks through the nerves she feels about competing in her very first gymnastics meet, I deal with my own nerves. Naturally, I was a little nervous for her, but my bigger issue came in the form of what on earth should I do with that hair?

See, I read the team manual. I know the rules. That hair has to be up and back and off the face and it cannot come loose under penalty of death. Or loss of a few tenths of a point. Whatever.

The point is, getting the hair right for a gymnastics competition is of the utmost importance.

And we all know who gets judged on the hair – she’s seven, folks. I’m on the hot seat for hair that refuses to stayed tied tight.

“Let’s put your hair up in a bun,” I suggest, and she immediately balks. I forgot to mention – she hates having her hair done. It ranks right up there with getting a shot. She does it because I say she has to, but she’s not happy about it.

I pull her hair back as tight as possible when it’s spun of pure silk and tried to secure it in a ponytail holder.

“You’re hurting me!” she wails. She grabs at the bottom of her head and yanks a chunk of hair out of my fingers.

“It’s supposed to be tight,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Well I don’t want it in a bun!” she cries. “My hair doesn’t work like that. I have small buns!”

I snicker as I tried to regroup the hair on top of her head because the twelve year old in me cannot hold back.

“Well what about braids? Your coach said braids are a great way to keep your hair out of your face.” I set to work weaving her hair into tight braids down the back of her head as she whines and groans about how much I’m hurting her and it doesn’t have to be that tight and sweet mercy if this child ever decides to become a dancer, she’s going to have to employ her own hair dresser because I will not survive such shenanigans!

I tie the braids, but they hang funny over her shoulders. It’s a bit Pippi Longstocking, and while I find it mildly adorable, I can envision her lying on a counselor’s couch one day lamenting the fact that she could have been an Olympian if only her mother had been able to come up with an acceptable gymnastic’s meet hairstyle.

I fold the braids under and secure them with ribbons and enough hair spray to chip out a small hole in the ozone layer, then tell her to do a couple of back walker overs and make sure it will work.

“It hurts! It hurts so bad! Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow! Why is it so tight! It hurts.hurts.hurts.hurts.hurts!!!”

It’s at this point I begin humming Jesus Take the Wheel while wondering what she would look like with a shaved head. (She’d look precious. I’m sure of it…)

She waffles back to the kitchen table, clutching her head as though I had woven thorns into her braids and we set back to work. The only issue is I’ve put so much hair spray into it, that it’s not going anywhere. So I twist, pull, tug, and pray until I have it tucked it in a way that allows her full movement of her head. She hops off the table and rolls her neck around.

tia meet

“Fell better?” I ask. She nods and runs to the bathroom.

She looks in the mirror, side to side, then looks at me.

“I look weird,” she says.

I drop my head, shrug my shoulders and wave her outside where I spray glitter into her hair because glitter covers a multitude of sins.

And we’re on our way.

She ended up tying for third in her meet. It’s probably easy enough to attribute her success to her hard work and dedication, but after the fiasco we went through to get her there, I’m going to take full credit for her success.

Gold medal for Mom.

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Sports, Tia Tagged With: Gymnastics, Gymnastics hair styles, Keep it together Mama!

The One With the Slippers

September 3, 2013 by Kelli

When Tia was nine days old, I took her to have pictures made. I wanted to go all out on her newborn pictures, so I naturally went to Picture People and paid $10 for 150 pictures of the exact same terrible shot. (I paid an extra 10 bucks to get 150 of a second shot because I felt like splurging.)

In my defense, digital pictures were just now beginning to take off. Lee and I had only gotten our first digital camera less than a year earlier. I still preferred a camera with actual film because…I don’t know why. Because change is hard? And for all you young ‘uns reading this blog who don’t remember life without digital images, this is how fast technology can change the world. I also had a flip phone back then that I could never remember to keep charged and I didn’t text because tapping out the alphabet was a torture greater than trying to nurse an infant in a crowded room.

In short, I am old enough to remember the good old days.

I have digressed mightily, though. This post isn’t about technology, nor is it about the terrible pictures I got at Picture People. This post is about motherhood, obviously.

Back in those days (seven and a half years ago…feels like a lifetime), I did not yet have a minivan, I didn’t blog and I only had one and a half kids. An infant only counts as half, that’s how those census people are able to determine that the average American household has 2.5 children. Infants. They aren’t full people until they can support their own body weight.

Sometimes I think back to those early days with little littles and I laugh at how difficult it all felt. Just getting up and out of the house felt like a momentous task each and every morning, and indeed it was. Try getting half a person ready while a two year old (who should really count as three people if we’re being honest) terrorizes the house. Those days were hard. They were really hard.

Our lovely, off-centered picture. I still have about 120 of these left so if anyone wants one, just let me know…

The morning I took Tia and Sloan to Picture People for those awesome of awesome portraits, I did it all on my own. Lee was out of town (because his company had impeccable timing and adored sending him away for a week and a half every time I had a baby) and I was on my own. I got up extra early that morning. Actually, if I remember correctly, I just didn’t go back to bed after the 4 am feeding. I took a shower, fixed my hair, put on make up (make up!), dressed two small children (one and a half, whatever…), changed diapers, fed said children breakfast, got them bundled up (February in St. Louis is cold in an evil, diabolical sort of way) and got out the door.

As I walked into the mall – the mall! – for our 9:00 appointment, I strolled confidently up to my mom. I had the car seat popped securely in the stroller and Sloan held tight to the side. I was rocking that motherhood gig. I felt like shouting LOOK AT ME, EVERYONE! SEE ALL MY AWESOME! BEHOLD, COME GAZE UP MY TOGETHERNESS AND MARVEL AT HOW EASY I MAKE THIS LOOK! I DID THIS ALL ON MY OWN! LOOK AT HOW GREAT I AM!

“You made it!” Mom cried. As if there was any doubt.

“Yep, and I got everything done! Look, I even got a shower!”

We stepped onto the escalator and as we did, I tripped slightly so I looked down to catch my balance.

I was still wearing my slippers. These were not slippers that looked like shoes, either. These were slippers that looked like slippers. I looked back up at my mom and she threw her head back and laughed.

“Well, if that’s all you forgot, you did okay,” she said with a grin.

Motherhood is exhausting and every season of child-rearing brings a new set of crazy. Sometimes the online world can make it seem like we all have it together. We’re coiffed and showered. Our clothes are clean and our children are picture perfect. The world online can look like sunshine and rainbows, and for the exhausted Mama getting up at 4 am so she can get out of the house by 8:30, it can feel like the entire world has it more together than you.

Just don’t forget that we’re all wearing slippers in some way, shape or form. Raising kids isn’t about having it all together, or looking put together, so don’t give into the pressure, because honestly?

Slippers are so very, very comfortable.

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Motherhood, Photography, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: Life, Motherhood, no mother is perfect, Sloan, surviving motherhood, Tia

Win 4 Tickets to the Tampa Boat Show: A Giveaway

August 29, 2013 by Kelli

There are few things I love more than spending an entire day on the water. I love the sound of the ocean lapping up against the side of the boat. I love the way the seagulls shout their praise from the skies. I love that when we are on the boat, we are together.

Boating with family is basically forced together time. There’s nowhere to go. If you’re on a boat, you’re required to actually interact with one another. Basically, boats are the minivans of the sea. There’s no technology to distract you, no separate rooms to escape to…at least not on the boats I’ve ever been on. Boating is, perhaps, one of the best ways to enjoy being together as a family. It’s fun, relaxing and the scenery can’t be beat.

Living in Florida, it is imperative to either own your own boat, or be friends with someone who has a boat. I mean, I guess imperative might be a strong word, but it’s a shame to be surrounded by ocean and never have the opportunity to float on said water. Which is why The Tampa Boat Show is kind of a big deal.

See how happy he is to be on a boat?!

The Tampa Boat Show is the region’s premiere boat show, showcasing the best of boating plus the latest marine accessories and aquatic activities. I love going to boat shows because every year the gadgets for boating get cooler, plus the boats are so shiny and pretty. Honestly, boats are better than minivans, mainly because minivans usually smell like moldy sandwiches and stinky feet while boats smell like paradise.

Ride on a boat, then ride in my minivan and tell me I’m wrong.

In addition to seeing and experiencing all the latest and greatest that marine sports have to offer, The Tampa Boat Show offers attendees the chance to have a little bit of fun. John Hillstrand from Discovery Network’s Deadliest Catch will be on hand for interviews, guests ages 10 and older can try their hand at diving in the heated 15,000 gallon Be a Diver pool, and attendees can experience seminars and different interactive learning events throughout the arena.

The Tampa Boat Show is coming to the Bay Area September 6-8. Tickets are $12 for adults ages 16 and up. Children 15 and under are FREE when accompanied by an adult. This makes the event the perfect weekend outing for families as you look, dream, and enjoy all that boating has to offer.

If you’re in the market for a new boat, or are simply interested in seeing what is new and cutting edge in the world of marine life, then I highly recommend The Tampa Boat Show. The good news is, I get to offer four tickets to one lucky reader today! Simply leave me a comment, any comment, and you will be entered to win four tickets to the upcoming Tampa Boat Show.

You can tell me your favorite boating memory or why you think boating is the perfect family activity. You can tell me your favorite color or your dog’s name, or the name of your favorite Aunt.

The point is, any comment will do, and if you’re anywhere near the Bay Area, you should enter because your chances of winning will be pretty good!

Comments will remain open until tomorrow night, Friday, August 30 at 5:00 PM, at which point I will draw a winner. Be sure to check your email to see if you won so that I can get your information and get the tickets in the mail to you quickly. And please share this with your local friends!

So who’s ready to start boating?

Disclaimer: I was not compensated for this post. I received Complimentary tickets to the Tampa Boat Show for my participation in this giveaway. All opinions expressed are my own.

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Giveaway, Kids Tagged With: Complimentary tickets, family boating, Giveaway, That Tampa Boat Show

When the land before you seems dry

August 22, 2013 by Kelli

This was a summer of healing for me.

As we close it out, I find myself somewhat reminiscent of the last few months. They’ve been good. Really, really good.

For reasons I can’t explain because I don’t understand, God has led me to a place in life that feels very dry. It goes beyond the terminated adoption. There are other hopes – other desires – that have been removed. The big prayers that I’ve uttered for over a decade all fell apart at the same time. Literally on the same day – January 11.

I’ve built an altar on that day as I think it’s important to remember the place of destruction because I still have hope that dreams can be rebuilt. Perhaps they’ll look a little different. Maybe they won’t be what I thought they’d be, but I don’t believe God will leave me in this wilderness forever.

Adding to what has felt like a very dry time has been the fact that for the first time since I was fifteen I have no contact with Russian speakers. No day to day contact, that is. When I first went to the former Soviet Union as a fifteen year old, I had no idea what was in store for me, but I realized almost immediately that I was supposed to be there.

Since that time, no matter where I’ve gone or lived or traveled, I have always been in contact with Russian speakers. Even when I went to Tanzania last year with Compassion International, I met a Russian girl in the airport and shared a lengthy conversation with her. This is what has always seemed to happen.

Everywhere we went, Lee and I would run into Russians and Ukrainians. From my time working at WOGA in Dallas, to our many years at the Russian-American school in St. Louis, I’ve always had the opportunity to listen to, and speak, the language that is so magical to me. Even after moving to Tampa, we met a sweet Russian woman and got to be quick friends with her and her family. We went to birthday parties and spent time on the ocean, and it seemed that, once again, I had tight community with the people I love so dearly.

Unfortunately, these friends had to move rather suddenly, and right around the time that the adoption fell apart, we lost contact completely. Since that time I have not run into a single Russian speaker. I haven’t even heard the language.

It’s so strange to me, really. Why did God give me such a love for this language, such a heart for adoption, such a longing to be a part of His story in a child’s life only to take it all away, all at the same time?

I have questioned God and doubted Him this year. I’ve been disappointed in Him, so very disappointed in the way this part of our story has played out. A few months ago I would have been scared to admit those things publicly. I would have tried to water down how extremely angry and sad and frustrated I was with this God in whom I’ve placed so much trust. What do such doubts and attitudes say of my faith?

You know what it says? It says I’m real. For the first time I couldn’t coast on a blind and unassuming faith. I needed to swim a little in the fire of doubt to see if my faith in this God I proclaim to love could withstand the heat. It did, but there were some dark days inside the refining fire. Days when I didn’t know if God really could be good, when I couldn’t see any beauty or grace in the current landscape of life.

Many days I could utter nothing more than the words “I don’t understand” while hot tears dripped off my chin.

But I don’t have to understand. This is where the healing has come into play this summer. I don’t have to understand, and I also don’t think this is the end of the story. I think these things have been removed for a time, not forever. I feel peace right now. Genuine peace. I’m still sad, and I still cry at the drop of the hat, but I’m not devastated.

God continues to be silent right now. He is not speaking in a tangible way that makes sense…yet. I’m still walking through the desert, but there is actually a lot of beauty to be seen in the desert, and I mean this both literally and figuratively. My friend Jenni spent several months in the desert earlier this year and the photos she took there are some of the most breathtaking I’ve ever seen. God created so much to see in the dry places.

In the same way, there’s been a lot of beauty in these last eight months, and there have been moments filled with the joyous beauty of laughter, an emotion created by God to empty the dark corners of the soul for a brief moment and fill them with light.

If I sit still long enough to catalog it, I’m almost shocked at how much grace I’ve been given in what has been such a difficult year. This desert isn’t completely void of good things. I can now honestly say that I’m thankful for these dry months. They aren’t over, but I don’t feel like I’m lost anymore.

If you’ve found yourself in a desert place where life feels overwhelming and hard, can I encourage you to hang on tight? The road may be long and you’re undoubtably tired and weary, but don’t give up. It’s okay to be sad, and it’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to ask why and it’s okay to not understand. This life is a mysterious path of winding roads and bramble paths, but in the midst of it all, if we’re willing to look for it, there’s so much grace to be seen and felt and pulled in tight. Whenever you can, look for the beauty.

And if at all possible, try to laugh out loud. Laughter reveals a whole lot of pretty things in this world.

Blessings to you all today.

Filed Under: Adoption, faith, Family, Grace, Life