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Where Two Or More Are Gathered

June 24, 2010 by Kelli

I was fifteen years old. A sophomore coming out of a time of rebellion. I was dealing with a lot of questions and deep hurts. Some of the questions are still unanswered, some were the creation of youthful immaturity. But the fact remains, my soul was ripe for harvest.

I was approached one Sunday afternoon about an upcoming mission trip to the former Soviet union with an organization called Student Venture. “Would you like to come?” he asked.

I blinked.

“Let me ask my parents,” I replied.

How does one ask her parents if she can go to the former USSR for Spring Break?

Turns out, I didn’t have to do much convincing. My parents were not only supportive but were quite excited for me to take this trip. I am indebted to them for their willingness to push my brother and I to experience life to the full.

And so it came that in March of 1994, I embarked on a journey that would forever alter the course of my life. And the man who led me on that journey was Gary Varner. For two weeks, Gary led our team through the streets of Belarus, and on a side trip to Moscow. Because we were not that far removed from the dismantling of the Iron Curtain, we were treated like rock stars. It was baffling and exhilerating to be followed and clung to. We visited schools and shared the Gospel of Christ, we put on night time events, we made friends, we traveled on public trams and buses, we visited Lenin’s tomb and stood before St. Basil’s cathedral, we played wicked April Fool’s day pranks and we laughed much but slept little.

I came home a changed young woman. Suddenly life was no longer about me. And I knew I would be back. Not just because I felt an odd kinship to that area of the world, but because I couldn’t imagine a better way to serve, learn and grow than under Gary’s leadership.

Two more times, I returned to the former USSR with Gary and his wife Carol. They became a guiding force in my life, pouring countless hours into my development as a young woman. They prayed for me and with me. They held me accountable and challenged me. And they were a grand example of living out the calling of God with passion and zeal.

I grew such a passion for that area of the world, in fact, that I decided to minor in Russian in college. I even lived in Ukraine for a time, studying the language and reveling in a culture that has become like a second home to me. Today, my children are learning Russian.

All of this because Gary took notice of my yearning heart and poured into me as a fifteen year old. He didn’t have to. He could have passed me over, assuming me too spiritually immature for such a trip. But he didn’t. He believed in me and he continued to encourage me throughout those very confusing years called adolescence.

Over the years, as life ebbed and flowed, I lost contact with Gary and Carol on a regular basis. We kept up via the cyber world and through mutual friends and I learned how Gary’s ministry in Russia grew and expanded. For some reason, the door never really opened for me to go on another trip with Gary. Part of that was my fault – I let the business of life convince me that taking off on a mission trip for two weeks was simply too difficult. Part of it was simply circumstances.

This past November, Gary was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer. And he has been in a fight for his life since that moment. A few weeks ago, I had the privilege to see my former mentor again – to soak up his wisdom and wit in person once more. And I realized how much I had missed him. And in the three hours that I spent sitting in Gary’s living room, he blessed me in a most profound way.

The cancer, and the treatment required to fight this particular brand of disease, has left him in a lot of pain and with little ability to do much other than sit, think and pray. And, of course, pour into the hearts of those who come to see him.

When my friend Lindsey, who was with me visiting Gary, asked him what his times with the Lord have been like he stopped and thought. “I can tell you what they haven’t been,” he said with a smile. “I determined from the moment I heard the diagnosis that I would not ask God ‘Why.‘ It’s not my position to question the Sovereignty of the God of the Universe. And to be quite honest, God doesn’t owe me any explanation.”

I’ve mulled over Gary’s words quite a bit in the last couple of months. And I have fought the urge to ask the question myself. But Gary is right. God is Sovereign. I don’t understand Him. I’ll never understand Him. For all of eternity, I will be in awe of Him. So who am I to question His Sovereignty?

This Sunday, June 27 has been deemed an International Day of prayer for Gary Varner. For over twenty years, Gary served overseas, working with orphans, teenagers, newlyweds, and the elderly. He has been the hands and feet of Christ and the thousands who have directly benefited from his sacrificial love want to gather now on his behalf.

Would you consider joining with us in prayer for Gary this Sunday?

Here are a few ways you can pray:

Pray for a miraculous healing of Gary’s body. Medically speaking, the kind of cancer that Gary has doesn’t look good. But we serve a God who is the Great Physician – the Gentle Healer. May we pray with boldness, placing our urgent request before Him.
Pray for Gary and his wife Carol as they deal with the stresses of chemotherapy. The regiment Gary is on now is brutal – pray for strength to endure.
Pray for Gary’s children. His son, Lt Clayton Varner is currently stationed in Iraq. Pray for his safety and return to the US in August. Gary’s daughter, Jessica, is currently serving in Athens, Greece with Campus Crusade for Christ. Pray for her safety and protection in that unstable environment.
Pray that Gary, who is also an accomplished writer and author, would be able to finish the second installment of his popular novel. Outside of missions, Gary has a deep love for writing, but the chemo has left him unable to finish his book. Pray that he would have miraculous moments of clarity throughout his days to be able to release the creative giant inside. As a writer myself, I know and understand how desperate it feels to have pent up creativity and no way to release it.

I’m sorry this post was so long, but my urgent and desperate hope is that thousands of people would unite and lift this man up on Sunday and that together we would all be partakers in God’s unfailing miracles.

If you would like to join the thousands who will be praying for the Varners, would you do me a favor and leave a comment letting me know? I’d like Gary and Carol to have tangible evidence of the working and moving of the Spirit through the faithful prayers of many.

Thanks everyone!

Filed Under: Blogging, Life, Random, Russian Tagged With: Gary Varner, International Day of Prayer for Gary Varner, Miracles, Portage Perspectives

One Year

June 23, 2010 by Kelli

One year ago I was doing a bunch of this on the beaches of Turks and Caicos:

I’m not going to lie to you. I wish I was back there right now…

Filed Under: Life, Random, summer fun, Wordless Wednesday Tagged With: Beach Pictures, Relaxing on the Beach, turks and caicos

Toy Story 3: Better Titled “Let’s Tear Mom’s Heart From Her Chest and Stomp On It”

June 22, 2010 by Kelli

Thank you, Pixar and Disney, for making me a blubbery, sobby mess. Thank you for gently forcefully ripping my heart from my chest and using it to play ball for 109 minutes. Thank you for making me so emotional that my husband, when asking what I thought about the movie, had to make a hasty retreat as tears shot out of the corners of my eyes like daggers.

Thank you, Pixar and Disney, for Toy Story 3.

I took my kids yesterday to see the final installment of the Toy Story saga. It’s been 15 years since I saw the first Toy Story. I was a senior in high school. Now I’m a mom of three. And the message of this movie was not at all lost on me. Especially given the fact that Tia sat on one side of me clutching her beloved Lovey Bear and Landon sat on the other, his Sock Monkey nestled snug beneath his arm. I couldn’t help but look at those two little toys, both so loved and content at this moment. What will it be like in fifteen years when they are cast off – no longer needed for comfort and companionship?

Excuse me for a moment while I go sob in the bathroom…

It didn’t even dawn on me when we left the house that they were carrying those toys with them to the theater to see a movie about the fate of beloved toys. But looking at my babies as Andy drove away on the big screen with his faithful companions left to watch his tail lights fade in the distance, I got so terribly emotional. It doesn’t help that I’m slightly hormonal, or that it’s been a tough week parenting.

As we drove home after the movie, I glanced in the rearview mirror at these children of mine – children who I love desperately. Time goes by so quickly. Yesterday (or so it seems) I married Lee. And then I blinked and it’s suddenly ten years later. If I weren’t such a prim and proper lady I’d let out an expletive. Instead I’ll settle for a simple, WTH! How does it move so quickly?

I read this on Nicole’s blog yesterday:

“When you’re holding your baby and he’s falling asleep in your arms slowly and the evening is slipping away and your mind is racing through the thousand things at the top of your list, and you begin to feel – as all fathers and mothers inevitably feel from time to time – that you’re wasting your time taking care of this little kid, try to remember that next year you won’t be able to hold him in the same way, he won’t go to sleep in your arms, and after a few more years, you’ll be happy to get a hug on the run. Our children are here to stay, but our babies and toddlers and preschoolers are gone as fast as they can grow up – and we have only a short moment with each. When you see a grandfather take a baby in his arms, you see that the moment hasn’t always been long enough.” S. Adams Sullivan, The Father’s Almanac

This parenting thing is hard. “Enjoy it,” everyone tells you, “Because it goes by so fast.” Even a bunch of animated toys told me the very same thing yesterday. What no one tells you, though, is that sometimes you have to work really, really hard to enjoy it. And that is, perhaps, what had me most emotional. I know it goes by fast, I know I need to enjoy it, I know I need to cherish the moments because they’re over in the blink of an eye – but to be quite honest, I don’t always enjoy being a mom. I love my kids, of course. They are so much a piece of me that I hardly remember life without them. But raising them…it’s hard.

Of course, it’s supposed to be hard now. “Put in the hard work when they’re young so that when they grow into teenagers you can reap the rewards of that hard work.” This is another piece of sage advice I cling to. On the days when it feels like all I do is battle, I remember that it’s better to battle them now when the environment is controlled than to battle them as teenagers when the battlefield is full of hidden mines and has a much larger scope.

But I would be lying if I said that I enjoy every moment of every day. Because I don’t.

I do, however, enjoy more than I don’t enjoy. Stay with me…Yesterday, and the few days leading up to it, was a hard day. There were many battles, many fights, many tears. And I was battle weary. Today, this morning, has been filled with sweetness. The kids have played together this morning without argument (and when I say argument, I mean screaming bloody murder at one another – sorry to any neighbors who were awakened by Sloan and Tia’s death match on the front porch Sunday morning). They’ve been pleasant and sweet, obedient even. And it hasn’t been a stretch to enjoy them. Yesterday, I had to search a couple of times for ways to like them.

So I was partly grateful to Toy Story for reminding me, yet again, that the time I have with my children when they’re young is fleeting. Yesterday was one day. There will be more days like it – days when loving my children is easy but liking them is hard. But I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I dread this time in our lives coming to an end. There are sweet days to come, moments to celebrate, birthdays to rejoice in, milestones to accomplish – but the days of them sitting in my lap, a stuffed animal tucked beneath their arms…those days won’t last forever. And it’s those moments that I cherish the most. I tuck each one away in the crevices of my heart.

And I will now commence to crying once more. Dumb cartoon movie…

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Life, Motherhood, Sloan, summer fun, Tia Tagged With: Crying through Toy Story 3, Motherhood, parenting, Toy Story 3

Happy Blistering, Sweltering, Melt Your Face Off Father’s Day

June 21, 2010 by Kelli

We celebrated Dad yesterday. It was a day meant for eating, sleeping and watching golf, just how Dad likes it. And so we ate, we slept, we watched golf and we enjoyed the day together as a unit. We missed being with our own fathers – two men who are the hero’s that Lee and I look up to with all the esteem that can be given to men of wisdom and stature such as they are. Without either of them in town, Father’s Day seemed a bit lacking this year. But we still enoyed our time together doing what we love to do – playing together.

Of course, what better way to celebrate Father’s Day than to watch the US Open together? And as we watched, Lee got the itch to go hit golf balls. I wanted nothing more than to support his desire to do just that – but I also didn’t want to be left alone with the kids who were threatening my sanity, so we packed everyone up in our (rockin’ hot) minivan and trekked to the driving range. And under the sweltering, blistering sun, we made a memory.

Or, as Landon put it, “We hit da baw hawd.”

This smile comes from hitting the ball past the 75 yard marker.

I really, seriously, truly, madly and deeply love this family of mine.

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Landon, Lee, Life, Sloan, summer fun, Tia Tagged With: Dad playing golf, Father's Day 2010, Kids playing golf, US Open 2010

Girl and Boy Become Man and Wife

June 11, 2010 by Kelli

It is time to tell you the rest of the story. Grab a steaming cup of hot tea, will you. Sit back, kick up your heels and prepare to swoon. Get your lungs ready because you’re going to heave a sigh of utter contentment in a few moments…

Okay, this story isn’t that great. I might be exaggerating slightly. My wedding was hardly a fairy tale. There were no fluffy white bunnies who tied bows in my hair. Tiny sparrows did not flit about my head whistling in perfect harmony. Clothes-wearing mice did not sew my glistening white wedding gown and my groom did not break out in song when I walked down the isle (just the thought of that makes me laugh).

All of that would have been cool (except the mice part; clothes or no clothes, I don’t like those furry little creatures), but that is not what the day held for me. It was, however, in the immortal words of Mary Poppins herself, “Practically perfect in every way.” I was ready to marry the boy. For eight months I had been his fiancee. I wanted to be his wife. I was ready to be a Mrs. I wanted to walk down the isle on my dad’s arm and say “I do.”

And I did.

I am blessed cursed with plenty of neuroses. But one thing I am not is a girly girl or a perfectionist. This makes planning a wedding very, very easy. I bought the first dress I tried on, because I loved it. I tried on a few more, but I knew right away that the first one was it. It was me. It was simple, elegant and comfortable. I also knew from past experience that I wanted to look natural. I’m not a heavy make up person, because I’m well aware of the fact that too much make up makes me look like a child who played in her mama’s bathroom cabinets. If I attempt the smokey eye I don’t look elegant so much as I strongly resemble a two cent hooker.

And I’d had enough up-do’s in my school dance days to know that my hair in a French Twist makes me look like an ’80’s era creature from Alienation.

I like Daisy’s and Lilies, and I like photographs…and lots of them. So the photographer and the florist were easy decisions to nail down. I didn’t want anything elaborate. I just wanted comfort and familiarity because as much as I wanted to marry the boy and as excited as I was to become his wife, I also wanted to be surrounded by the comforts of simplicty. It made the idea of marriage seem less daunting.

So I stuck with my simple hair, my simple make up and my simple dress. My simple flowers, my lots of pictures, my simple hors de veurs and wedding cake (none of that nasty raspberry filling stuff – nope, white cake, white icing…the way the angels like it). But I felt anything but simple and ordinary. I felt as if I had been adorned by woodland creatures and singing cherubs. I felt…like a Princess.

To be honest, I remember few details about the day of my wedding. I know I was up early all jittery and happy. I know I had my hair done and my bridesmaids (all nine of them) had breakfast with me. I don’t know what time we headed to the church or where everyone got dressed. I do remember my grandmother making me laugh out loud at some point.

“Kelli,” she said, “I heard that you and all of your bridesmaids are wearing thongs today.”

“Uh…Mimi! What?! I…maybe. I haven’t asked them…”

She stared back at me completely confused. And my mom burst out laughing. “They don’t call them thongs anymore, Mom,” she said. “And yes, all the girls are wearing flip flops.”

Sweet Mimi.

I was a bit of a traditionalist when it came to my wedding. I didn’t want to see the boy before the ceremony, I wanted the Wedding March played when I walked in and I wanted hymns sung during the ceremony. Somehow that just seemed right to me. And it all went off without a hitch.

Well…except for the tears. I’ve told you about my penchant toward crying. I don’t get the cute little single tear drop that streams down the cheek like you see in the movies. Oh no…I cry like an ugly gopher. And if I try to hold the tears in I end up bursting like the Hoover Dam.

So mid-way through the minister asking who would give this woman to marry this man, I broke. And I was mic’ed. Then I tried to laugh to cover it up, which only made me sound a bit like a machine gun filled with snot balls. A blushing bride, I was not.

But sobby sobberson’s aside, the ceremony itself was beautiful. My uncle and my high school youth minister, two of the most unorthodox, craziest men in ministry I’ve ever known, led the service and they injected the right amount of humor and sweetness to balance out my crazy. The music was sweet, the boy was sweet (and terribly, terribly handsome in his tux with tails. Oy!) And it ended with me becoming Mrs. Lee Stuart. A name I was happy to take on and I am even more proud to bear today, nearly ten years later.

After what seemed forever in photographs (We had a wedding party of eighteen! We’re not good at narrowing down…) we hopped in our limo and headed off to the reception where we had one heck of a party and a huge surprise waiting for us.

To be continued…

Read the rest of the story here.

Filed Under: blast from the past, Blogging, Family, Lee, Life, Marriage Tagged With: Lee and Kelli Stuart, Love Story, Wedding plans, Wedding Story

Bits and Pieces

June 10, 2010 by Kelli

Yesterday was the big day. Landon got his cast removed. I’ve never had a cast before, but I imagine that had my arm been wrapped in plastic for almost a month I would want to bend and straighten my elbow over and over and rub my hand up and down my arm like he did. It was really adorable. He seemed quite thrilled with his ability to once again move his arm. He now has a removeable splint that he’s supposed to wear while he’s playing (so essentially all day long) for the next month.

Right. Good luck with that. He’s already figured out how to take it off.

I had to take all three kids with me to have his cast removed. I was worried. But they did great. They didn’t freak out when the saw was turned on and niether one of them asked if they could have a cast put on.

I cleaned out the bins of old clothes in the basement yesterday. I filled four oversized garbage bags to be dropped off at Goodwill and a fifth garbage bag filled with clothes that had apparently been home to our mouse family last year. Do you know what it does to someone like me to have to stick her hand in a bin that has obviously harbored small furry creatures? I’m surprised I didn’t go into cardiac arrest. I kept expecting little zombie mice to start crawling out of the box and up my arms. I didn’t even try to see if any of the clothes were salvagable. I just dumped them in the trash bag.

*shudder*

Lee and I are still attempting to keep up with P90X. The workouts themselves, while hard, are not that bad. Finding the time to do them, however, if proving to be a bit of a challenge. I can only get up at 5:00 AM so many days before I turn into crazy-psycho-needs-some-sleep mommy. I figure I’m of better use to my kids awake and alert but slightly flabby than super fit and walking in my sleep.

And finally, to cap off this most random of posts, I will let you know that it appears someone got a hold of my new camera yesterday and took several pictures. I’m not going to name any names, but the evidence is compelling.

To read my latest post for STL Family Life, click the tab on the right or right here.

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Life, Motherhood, Random, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: Funny Kids, Kids and Cameras, Kids and Casts, P90X, STL Family Life

I’m looking for Jiminy Cricket

June 8, 2010 by Kelli

Disney makes it look so easy. You wish upon a falling star and anything your heart desires will come to you. But even Jiminy Cricket realized that it took more than wishing for a dream to come true. You have to listen to your heart and follow. Let your conscience be your guide.

Of course, I try not to take theological guidance or direction from an animated cricket, but I do believe there is a nugget of truth buried in there. But from my point of view as a believer, I believe my Jiminy Cricket my conscience to be the Holy Spirit. It is this still small Voice, the Voice of God Himself, that I must listen to. And it is this still small Voice that I often ignore, or worse yet, simply don’t hear at all.

Life is noisy. Bills, responsibilities, work, commitments – all of these contribute to the noise. And sometimes the noise gets so loud that it’s difficult to hear the Voice. But there are moments when the Voice breaks through the noise. Usually these moments are relatively quiet moments – in the still of the morning, or late at night, when the noise of life is in a brief slumber. It’s in those moments that I’m reminded that wishing upon a star is not really going to get me far. I might need to get up and start walking toward the star instead.

Lately, Lee and I have felt stirrings within us. The moments come at different times for each of us, but the thoughts, dreams and ideas are the same. Some of the stirrings require small, but meaningful, planning and action on our parts. For those of you that know Lee and I well you know that planning isn’t, ahem, our strong suit. We tend to fly by the seats of our pants and, while we always have the best of intentions, this means that many big plans get dropped along the way. We’re working on this.

Other stirrings, however, will require a significant amount of prayer, hard work, diligence and faith. And the faith part? It’s a doozy. I have personally never been much of a skeptic. Faith, in it’s simplest form, comes fairly easy to me. I’m not one to question or doubt. In some ways, this is a very good trait. But other times I have to remind myself that it’s necessary to think critically and not operate on blind faith. In other words, I sometimes have to make myself question the concept of faith so that I can better defend my faith. If that makes any sense at all….

All that to say, some of the stirrings within my own soul require a depth of faith that I haven’t yet grasped. A complete, life altering, Here Am I Lord type of faith. It’s the type of faith that may require me to be uncomfortable. I may have to sacrifice some of my comforts. I might even need to let go of some dreams and desires.

Can I do it?

I recently read this post from Shawn Groves. It only further spoke to my already softening heart. If my life were a home movie, what would it look like? Hmmm…

So I’m not being totally cryptic, we’re not considering selling all our possessions and moving to far east Siberia to live in a cabin and start a slavic revival. No need to worry! We are, however, trying to open ourselves up to the What If’s.

What if God called us to far east Siberia?

What if God called us to serve in missions?

What if God called us to go serve a meal to the homeless in downtown St. Louis?

What if God called us to adopt a child?

What if God called us to have another child?

What if God called us to rise in the early hours of the morning and pray over our children instead of sleeping in?

What if God called us to move to small town USA simply to minister to our neighbors?

What if God wants us to stay right where we are and continue to serve those around us quietly and effectively?

What if God wants me to drive my smokin’ hot minivan with pride all the while pouring His Truth’s into my children’s hearts as I shuttle them from here to there?

The bottom line is this: We want to be ready for the What If’s, no matter what they might be. Lee and I each have hopes, dreams, desires and vision. Some of them line up and will be easy to implement – some do not match entirely and will require joint prayer. But we want to stop ignoring the whispers that have grown louder over the past few months. We want to quit talking and start doing. Which takes planning.

*sigh* If only Jiminy Cricket could serve as our family manager…

Filed Under: discipline, Family, Heritage, Lee, Life, Marriage Tagged With: Family and Parenting, Family Planning, Hearing the Holy Spirit, Jiminy Cricket

The Carpenter’s Son

June 7, 2010 by Kelli

On Friday the kids were doing what kids do…fighting.

Well that, and playing outside. At one point I looked out the window and saw Sloan surrounded by several pieces of scrap wood, a hammer, nails, the electric screwdriver and a saw. Um…that seemed like a good moment to go check on them.

“What are you doing, bud?” I asked as I stepped out onto the driveway.

“Oh I’m just making a chair for Tia and me to sit on,” he replied. He balanced a piece of wood precariously on another and raise the hammer high above the tiny nail pinched between his fingers.

“Uh…Sloan?”

“Yeah?” he asked, squinting up at me.

“I think we should wait for daddy to come home before you start hammer nails into boards.”

It took a bit of convicing, but he finally agreed to hold off on smashing his fingers and sawing his arm off. And when Lee got home, Sloan pounced.

“Canwemakeachairdad, IreallyreallyreallywanttomakeachairformeandTiatositin. Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeaaaase?” Lee agreed to help make a chair…on Saturday morning.

And make a chair they did. When it was all assembled, we threw down a piece of plastic and opened up some cans of leftover paint and let them have at it.

It turned out quite nice:

Yep. We like our new chair…

We like it a lot!

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Landon, Lee, Life, Sloan, summer fun, Tia Tagged With: building with dad, Carpentry, Kids and prjects

As luck would have it

June 4, 2010 by Kelli

Part of my Craig’s List money went toward a minor room redecoration. I never liked the bedding I bought for our king size bed a couple of years ago and last year when we recevied our new furniture it just accented the ugliness of our bedding. So I bought new bedding.

Here’s the thing – I don’t have a decorator’s bone in my body. Which makes the fact that I recently started freelancing for a decorator’s blog slightly humorous, wouldn’t you say? The fact is, I just don’t know how to put together a room. I don’t know what looks good where, how to hang photos, what pieces to use for accents – it’s just not my strong suit. So given that knowledge, I’m pretty proud of the minor changes I made to our bedroom.

Obviously, finding the right bedding was my first goal. As soon as I saw this bedding online, I fell in love with it. I ordered it two months ago and it just arrived yesterday due to back order issues. Just in time for my birthday. Yes, I am 29 AGAIN today. Lee seems to luck out on birthday gifts wouldn’t you say? Last year our furniture happened to arrive the day before my birthday as well.

Remember this?

So here we are, one year later, and my bed is finally outfitted properly.

I also bought new side table lamps since our old ones didn’t match and were not even remotely cute. Behold, the glory of a cute side table lamp:

Many thanks to HomeGoods for being the perfect place for non-decorators like me to shop. And naturally we needed a few accents in the room to pull it all together. Naturally.

Lee’s not overly crazy about the urn. “It’s weird,” he keeps saying. “What’s the purpose?” And I’m all, “Dude, you obviously know nothing about decorating a room…”

Weird urn aside, I like how things are coming together in there. I still need to figure out what to do in one naked corner and I need to re-hang a few pictures that don’t look right and, eventually, I’d like to repaint the walls. But what color? Those are the types of decisions that stress me out.

For now, however, I’m going to rest my head on some cute pillows and let out a sigh of accomplishment because I conquered my fear of redecorating a room!

Now if I could only get my husband to take the suitcases down to the basement as they are totally messing with my Feng Shui.

I feel like I’m living in an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond.

All photos were taken with my new point and shoot, courtesy of my parents. I love my Pentax and the quality of pictures it takes, but the thing is a mammoth and, to be honest, I wasn’t crazy about hauling it around the Zoo with me. It made me nervous. So I’m excited to have a smaller camera that I can stick in my pocket. Thanks Mom and Dad.

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Lee, Life, Marriage, Random, shameless self-promotion Tagged With: Decorating a bedroom, Echo Jaipur Bedding

What We’re Up To

June 3, 2010 by Kelli

It’s summertime. And the livin’ is easy…

But I’m not gonna let the livin’ be lazy. My kids get up at the crack of dawn. It’s not unusual for us to be up, fed, dressed and ready for the day by 7:30 – not because I want it to be that way, you see. I would give a limb for them to sleep until 8:00 just once. Heck, I’d be thrilled if they slept until 7:00! So with everyone waking up so early, what on Earth will we do with ourselves all day everyday? This week we started our summer schedule and built in to every weekday is “learning time” from 8:00-9:00.

It looks a little like this:

And Landon usually looks like this because I make him leave the room and play quietly by himself while the older kids work…something he’s not overly fond of.

This time is being spent on their Russian homework, Tia’s English Alphabet (poor girl, we’ve spent so much time on the Russian that she doesn’t know her English letters at all), Sloan working on his summer packet from school, math, reading and writing in their journals. It’s actually going really well. The kids are able to get all of their work out of the way early which frees them up to play the rest of the day.

We set a reading goal for Sloan this summer. If he reads 10 books, we’ll go to Chuck E Cheese. If he reads 20 books, we’ll go to the Magic House. If he reads 35 books in English and 5 books in Russian we will spend the whole day at Six Flags. So far he has completed one book and is chomping at the bit to go to the library to check out new books.

We’ll do that as soon as I pay off our overdue book fines. Ahem…

I think I’m going to like this schedule. It’s tough, for sure. I would much rather let them watch TV all morning so I could play on the computer, but I know this is a more productive way to spend these early morning hours. It means I will have less time to blog, which is probably not a bad thing. It will mean I need to be much more disciplined with my time, which is definately not a bad thing. But it will also mean that I will be able to send Sloan to 1st grade prepared and Tia will finally know the difference between the letter H in English and the letter H (which sounds like N) in Russian. It’s kind of important that I teach her that…

What are your summer plans?

Filed Under: discipline, Family, Kids, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: Kids, summertime, teaching kids