Hi, My Name is Kelli…

And I’m addicted to skin care products. 

Hmmm…addicted makes it sound serious.  Perhaps I should just say I’m in love with skin care products.  But that makes my relationship with all things skin related sounds healthy.  You know what?  Let’s just not qualify it. 

Hi, my name is Kelli and I have a lot of skin care products.  So much so that my husband recently commented how ten years ago when we got married, had he known how much “stuff” girls put on their face, he would have required me to open and stock a seperate bank account just for all my “stuff.”

And incidentally, can we not call it “stuff?”  It’s heaven’s nectar.  It’s youth in a jar.  It’s what’s making sure that when I’m 50, I’m still going to look 30, baby!

To which Lee would reply, “Well that’s gonna stink for you because when I’m 50 I’m gonna look 50 so you’re gonna be stuck with an older man.”

Hmph.  I’m holding out hope for Zac Efron.  Or Ryan Reynolds…

I’m kidding!

*a little*

So.  What was I talking about?  Facial products!  I love them.  I would wash my face five times a day and put on a different moisturizer if I knew it was good for me.  But it’s not, so I settle for the more common twice a day washing.  Then I pull out my awaiting stash and breath in its lovely scent.  I have morning mositurizers with antioxidants.  I have a nighttime moisturizer with some kind of ingredient that’s supposed to keep me looking young.  Plus, I think it wards off vampires.

I have masks, my newest being a Vitamin C peel and it’s A-to the-MAZING.  It might be my new favorite.  I love how my skin feels when it’s been scrubbed and slathered.  I feel refreshed and awake and ready to conquer the day.

Okay, I think it’s safe to say I’m an addict.

Here are a few of my favorite products.  You know, just for fun…

Arbonne NutrimenC – I order a full set almost once a year (at a discounted price) and it usually lasts me a whole year, which is why I feel no guilt.  NONE.  Why would one feel guilty about wonderful, glorious face products?

Neutrogena – This lotion smells amazing, has antioxidants in it – which, I don’t really know what that means but it sounds like it’s really good for you – and has spf 15 to keep the sun’s rays at bay, but not out completely because who doesn’t look better with a tan, right?

Philosophy: When Hope is not enough – This is my new vitamin C peel.  Actually it’s called a Microdelivery Peel.  Doesn’t that just sound amazing?!  Seriously, this stuff is spectacular.  I love it.  Love it, love it, love it.  This may be an unhealthy love… 

Hugo Naturals – I was recently introduced to this product line for the kids.  Particularly Landon who has got some pretty nasty exzema issues.  As in the pediatrician told me, “His skin is going to be your job.”  Lucky for Landon, I LOVE SKIN.  Their products are 100% natural and organic.  They’re gentle on his skin and the lotions are amazing.  I also got a couple of the sugar scrubs and body butters for me and Sweet mercy!  I’ve found a new love.  You can find these at Whole Foods and I highly recommend them, especially if you have kiddos with problem skin…Or if you are addicted to skin care products.

Wexler MMPi: I don’t know what is in this stuff but it makes my skin feel as soft as the day I was born.  Or as soft as I imagine my skin was the day I was born.  It’s a jar full of magic made by fairies at the base of rainbows.  Hint: You can get it at Bath and Body Works on special several times/year. 

This is not, of course, an extensive list of my facial loves.  You don’t even want to get me started on eye cream, or on the When Hope is not Enough oil I got for Christmas that makes me feel like I’ve been swimming with the gods.  If I believed in ‘the gods’ of course…

Is there a 12 Step program for this sort of thing?

Never mind.  Don’t answer that.  I don’t want to give it up…

So with that, I’m going to hop out of bed and scrub my face.  The excitement I got from writing that last sentence is almost embarrassing.  Except, I LOVE TO WASH MY FACE! 

If any of you have skin care tips or products you love, do share.  Because clearly I’m a junkie who needs more. 

*Incidentally, I was not paid or asked to write about any of these products.  I share my skin care secrets out of the goodness of my heart.  You are SO welcome.

Friday Links

– Shaun Groves wrote this post yesterday that made me laugh out loud.  If you’re not reading Shaun you really should be.  He’s a great writer – genuine and funny.  Plus, who doesn’t love a guy in his thirties with a mohawk, right?  Or is it a faux hawk?  Anyway, read the post.

– Another blogger I love is C-Jane.  Her perspective on faith and God are very different from my own, but I love reading her thoughts, learning more about what she believes and laughing at her posts.  She’s an amazing writer and is very engaging.  She’s a daily read for me.  I particularly enjoyed this post.  (A few Cliff’s Notes: She calls her husband Chup or Chupa, her son is the Chief and her daughter’s name is Ever Jane.  This will help when you’re reading the post.)

– Nicole has an awesome advent plan for her boys.  If I were crafty, I’d be all over this.  But I’m not.  So I just look on in envy…

– A few years ago I had the privilege to work alongside the awesome Dana Loesch.  While doing this I got acquianted with her husband who is a wickedly talented musician and producer.  Recently Chris and his team at Shock City Music filmed this music video to go along with a song that he co-wrote.  Becky Kelly is the singer.  The song is really beautiful as is the video.  It’s a great reminder of what the season is about.  Enjoy.

 
Happy Friday everyone.  I’m headed into a week of insanity.  Taking deep breaths today. 🙂

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

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

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

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

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

Date night!  I love date night.

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

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

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

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

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

The Ribbons and the Ribbon Maker

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The day I questioned everything I knew to be true

Saturday night found Lee and I in the minivan, kids in tow, heading out to the mattress store to purchase two new mattresses.  Never mind that the kids desperately needed them.  Never mind that Tia’s mattress was so cheap that is was literally falling apart and becoming a potential hazard.  Never mind  that both mattresses had been peed on so many times they could be deemed a health code violation.  Never mind any of those things.  The fact is simply this:

I went out on Saturday evening to buy mattresses and thought it was fun.

Hi, my name is Kelli and I am a  bona fide minivan mom.

Ah, but we haven’t even got to the best part of the story.  What?  Surely you know there would be more to this story than the fact that I had a hoot buying twin mattresses on a Saturday night, right?  A hoot!

It was the incident that occurred when we returned home that sent my world aspinnin’.  It started simple.  We came home so Lee could drop the kids and I off and return to the mattress store to pick up our most exciting purchases.  We had to remove the car seats and fold down the back seats and clean up a bit.  And it was during this event that I began to question my entire identity.

The title of my blog is Minivans Are Hot.  With the operative word being Hot.   I know, I know…Minivan and Hot together in a sentence is an oxymoron.  And most days I would beg to differ and would launch into a diatribe about how it’s sexy to be a mom and how minivan moms have it goin’ on and I would work my hardest to convince you that I was right.  Until Saturday night…

What I found in the back seat of my minivan was anything but Hot.  Let’s start with what I found under the seat, shall we?  It was sticky…it was brown…it had flecks of leaves and dirt stuck to it.  What was that?!

From there I removed the kids car seats to find enough dried, crumbled food to feed a small pack of wild baboons.  It was sealed into the lining of the seat fabric and had to be scraped out with my fingernail.  *heave*  Don’t even get me started on what  I found in their seats.

But the piece de resitance came when I crawled into the way back and looked inside the cup holder.  It is here that I gasped, looked at my husband and exclaimed, “Gross!  This is why minivans are NOT. HOT.”  Then I clutched my chest with the gravity of my statement and fell in dramatic Disney Princess fashion onto the seat, the back of my hand against my forehead…

No I didn’t.  That last part didn’t happen – mostly because I wouldn’t want to lay on those seats for $100.  Maybe for $1000, though.

In the cup holder sat dried, crusted, molded bread.  It appears my children are stock piling food in the back seat of our minivan in the event that a giant meteor should come crashing down to earth and we need to seek shelter inside the car for a significant amount of time.  It also appears that they have eaten portions of a sandwich and then shoved the remaining portion in the cup holder and have, every day for who knows how long, been looking at this rotting sandwich and ignoring it.

It’s like I’m raising little cave people!

I promptly dug out the rot and marched to the trash can.  My husband, sensing my impending melt down went dashing for the Shop Vac in the basement.  Being the super hero that he is, he spent the next half hour sucking the muck out of our minivan while I went inside and lectured my children on the importance of throwing away rotten food.  I also tried to talk myself out of changing my blog title from Minivans Are Hot to Minivans Are A Place Where Horrors grow Beneathe the Seats and in the Cupholders While You Yourself Obliviously Drive From Here to There Thinking You Are Looking Fine When Really You Are Controlling a Moving Science Experiment.

But in typical Hero fashion, my man came inside just as I was certain that my entire online identity was going to have to be realtered and yelled “Ta-Da!”  I walked outside to see the seats clean (hey look!  The fabric’s grey…) The cup holders clean…er.  They still have a sticky substance that I can only assume will need to be chisled out at some point (probably just before we decide to sell the car).  And it smelled much more pleasant too.  It was actually quite nice in there.

I smiled at him and jumped into his arms.  Small birds flitted about our heads as he spun me around and when we kissed little animated hearts floated up into the dusky sky. 

Alright…that last part didn’t happen either.  Sometimes I wish I lived in a cartoon.

Despite the cleanliness of my car, however, I couldn’t shake the fact that I had outwardly acknowledged the un-hotness of my minivan.  And so I’m here to retrain my mind.  And if any of you are having a hard time believeing that Minivans Are Hot like I am, then why don’t you join in with me as we repeat the mantra over and over.  

Minivans are hot, minivans are hot, minivans are hot, minivans are not, minivans are not…

NONONONONO!!!!

Let’s try again.

Minivans are hot, minivans are hot, minivans are hot…

Do you believe it?

It’s Friday! Let’s Partay!

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The bug sprayer came today.  Because I almost died three days ago trying to get away from a cricket in the basement and I called them with instructions to come asap or I would likely leave the house and never return.  We also had a lovely little colony of ants trying to make a home on our fireplace and a few spiders thinking it was okay to seek shelter in our living room. 

Let it be known, I don’t run a hotel for critters. 

Tia has a friend over and Landon is fulfilling his pesky little brother role by toddling after them and being…a pest.  They are exascerbating the situation by goading him.  I’m pretending I don’t hear any of it.  Because it’s Friday and I figure I deserve the day off from umpiring duties, yeah?  No? 

I am slowly but surely becoming convinced that Landon is never going to get the hang of using the toilet.  I know everyone always says they won’t go to college in diapers, but I’m not all that convinced with him.  The child doesn’t care.  There’s no ambition.  He’s all, Dude I’m cute and I have a smile that melts hearts so who cares if I drop a load in my underwear?  I’ll just grin and squint and go on my merry way because I’m the free spirited third child and that’s how I roll.  Word.

I am still wearing my dotdotdash clothing…have been since Tuesday.  But today is laundry day so I’ll probably wash it so I can wear it all week next week too.  I left my coat at the store the other night so I need to go back and pick it up.  Oh darn…I might need to shop a little more.  Have you had the chance to go yet?  Don’t forget to mention Minivans Are Hot for 15% off!

We’re having dinner with the sweetest of sweet group of friends tonight.  These women have been my accountability group for almost two years now and I love them to the core of who I am.  One of us is moving to Cincinatti in a couple of weeks and we’re having a family gathering to celebrate friendships.  Oh how I’m thankful for these women who have allowed me to pour my hearts out to them every other week and have encouraged me and spurred me on to be better and work harder and love my husband, my children and my God deeper.

I took a picture of myself to show you what it looks like when I I haven’t had a shower in a couple of days.  Do other moms have a hard time showering every day or is it just me?  Don’t answer that.  While I’m on the topic of motherhood (at least I’m sort of on the topic) do any of you moms struggle with mom guilt like me?  I wrote about it the other day at STL Family Life.  I’m trying to take my own advice…

Um…I think I need to go.  I hear crashes, squeals and laughter.  They’re having too much fun.  I need to see what’s happening.  I think I should feed them too because I hear you’re supposed to feed children multiple times a day every day. 

Crazy, huh?

Remember When?

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Remember when you could wake up slowly and relish the morning?

Yeah…me neither.

Remember when you could look at the clock and smile, then roll over and sleep another half an hour.

Nope. No recollection.

Remember when you were first married (if you are married, of course) and you would look lazily over at your spouse then burrow deeper beneath the covers just because you could?

It’s vague.

Remember when you could slowly eat breakfast and maybe even read a little or watch TV in the morning?

Not so much.

Remember when mornings were relaxing?

Kind of.

Remember when you didn’t have to hit the ground running, making sandwiches, gulping down the breakfast off of the plate of the kid who refused to eat, making beds, brushing teeth, breaking up fights, keeping potty training little ones from peeing on the couch, waiting-for-the-bus-in-the-freezing-cold-without-shoes-or-undergarments-on-and-hoping-the-neighbors-don’t-drive-by?

Remember those days?

They’re long gone now.

It dawned on me this morning that it will probably be 25 years before I have a leaisurely morning again.  That’s a little depressing.  Not that mornings are horrible.  They’re just hectic.  I look at the clock each morning and give myself a pep talk:

You can do this.  You are in control.  You are strong and confident.  You will survive.  Today’s gonna be a great hair day.  You’re good enough, you’re smart enough and doggonit – People like you.

Some mornings it really works.  I hop out of bed and I am on.my.game.  Like a ballerina I float through the house leaving peace and cleanliness in my wake.  (And my hair looks fabulous!)  Most mornings, however, I’m more like the proverbial bull in a china shop.  I’m stumbling from here to there and by 8:00 it appears that a natural disaster has swept through our walls.  I’ll give you one guess as to how this morning has been.

Thank God for caffinated tea (and sometimes coffee)!  I couldn’t move without a cup of hot, legalized uppers to get me through the mornings.  Can I get an amen?

Top of the mornin’ to you all!

It’s a Mash Up – Boogie Woogie Woogie

*You should be forewarned…this post is as random as they get.  It couldn’t be MORE random.  I’d like to think of it as a mash up post.  You can mash up songs so why can’t you mash up a post.  Let’s see how it goes…

This first section will find me fulfilling my mom blogger duty in which I talk about my hair.  Every mom blogger is required to talk about her hair in at least two posts every year.  It’s in the contract…

Shortly after we got married, I returned home from work one evening to find Lee sitting on the floor in our tiny apartment bedroom.  He had our hair dryer in his hands, pieces of it scattered about the floor around him.  He had a Q-Tip and was gently swabbing the inside of the hair dryer, his tonge sticking out of his mouth just slightly.

“Um…what are you doing?” I asked.

“This hair dryer is a fire hazard!  Have you seen all the crap inside here?”  And back he went to picking the dust out of the disassembled hair dryer.  It was then that I knew I had married someone slightly OCD.  And if you think I’m kidding, you should see the way he tackles projects.  I’ve come home to see him in a suit and tie painting a wall because it just needed to be done.

After he finished his hair dryer deep cleanse, he put it back together…and it never really worked properly again.  So a few days later I headed out and bought a new and improved (and clean!) hair dryer.  And she’s been with us ever since.  She’s seen me through a lot of hair tragedies over the past decade, with the worst being this one.  And she stood by me, never failing.

Fast forward ten years and you’ll see us in present day still using our trusty old hair dryer.  She’s like 842 in hair dryer years now, but she’s still kicking.  Of course, she doesn’t have as much punch as she once upon a time did.  And she makes a weird clickety click sound when you use her.  And it takes roughly 23.7 minutes to dry my hair.  But she’s so comfortable.  Still…it was time.

I bought a new hair dryer this weekend.  I felt like a traitor.  But this one has a turbo button.  I push it and BAM! My hair’s dry.  It’s dry and actually looks good.  And when I flip my head, my hair swings to the side in slow motion…

I gingerly laid old faithful in the trash can yesterday.  And when I flipped my hair over to dry it with the turbo charged new girl I could swear I saw a tear of resentment trickle down the side of her scratched and beaten nozzle.  I tried to tell her it was me and not her…

I don’t think she believed me.

Switching gears.  Now I will transition into another mom blogger must – talking about my child’s weird and random rash.  Mash up, folks…it’s a mash up.

Last weekend I posted this photo of Landon’s leg on Facebook with the caption: Landon’s had this random rash for a couple of weeks now. Should I be worried?”

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Across the board the concensus was that this looked like ringworm, which was what I was already concerned about but I’ve never seen ringworm so I wasn’t sure.  So thanks Facebook.  Once again you have confirmed that the world needs you to keep on spinnin’.

I went to the doc the day after I posted the picture and he was completely baffled by this bizarre rash.  So he brought in another physician who was also baffled.  This was a Saturday so it wasn’t our own pediatrician we were seeing.  Because the circles resembled ringworm he decided to treat it as such with instructions to call if it didn’t change in a week.  I walked unsure for a few reasons.

A.) The doctor couldn’t tell if it was ringworm.  This isn’t how ringworm presents itself.  Ringworm is usually one circle that spreads larger and larger.  All four of these circles appeard over night and none of them got bigger.

And,

B.) Ringworm is apparently contagious but Landon sported these lovely marks for a solid two weeks and no one else was showing odd crop circles on their limbs so it didn’t appear to be spreading.  I’m not sure if ringworm spreads like chicken pox, though, where it takes a couple of weeks to show up. 

Speaking of chicken pox, I kind of wish I could get my kids exposed to it so they could build up a natural immunity…

This is the part where I remind myself to stay on topic.

So I called our personal pediatrician back on Thursday and wished I would have just waited to see her in the first place because she pretty much diagnosed him over the phone without the co-pay.  And that is why I love her.  I’ve been putting Tinactin on his leg for a week.  No go.  It’s still there.  Ah…but that’s because he probably has Nummular Eczema, which can present itself in small circles but is really an irritation of the skin. 

Hydrocortisone cream has become our new best friend.  And it doesn’t sting when I put it on his skin…poor kid.

Insert pithy transition here.

On any given night you can find our family piled up on the couch listening to this cacophony of…I guess we could call it music.  It is a family musical mash up and I think it’s the perfect way to end my mash up post.   

Sloan is singing a song he made up.  He likes to write music.  I find it terribly adorable.  Tia was fresh from her bath and not yet dressed so she’s wrapped up in a blanket strumming her guitar.  Naturally.  And Landon is just so adorable you’ll want to cry.  I give you: My children.

Boogie Woogie Woogie!

Linky Loo’s

There will be no post here today.  I’m buried under a mountain of work.  You can read the post I wrote for STL Family Life, however, and I really hope that you do because I want as many local folks as possible to go see this show!  An organization called Variety the Children’s Charity has initiated a first of it’s kind theater experience merging children with disabilities with professionals to put on a Broadway style production.  Last year they did Tom Sawyer and this weekend they are doing OLIVER!  I spoke with some of the kids the other night and they are amazing.  I really hope that a lot of people have the chance to see the show because these kids will bless you!  Read more about it here.

I will be writing more in depth about this group and the kids I spoke with tomorrow on Tonic.com where I’ve been brought on as a contributor.  I will also have a post up tomorrow on Artistic Sensations.com where I’ve been contributing for the last several months.  Lots of work to do, which is good but makes for a tired mama.  I planned on getting up at 5 (in the MORNING) today to get some things done but apparently my body had other plans as I involuntarily shut the alarm off and no one woke up until after 7.  Yeesh!

A couple other links for your viewing enjoyment.  A friend of mine recently started a new church here in town called Broadcast.  Their button is on the sidebar.  Check out the website and I encourage you to visit one of their services if you’re looking for a new place to get plugged in.

Also, if you’re not reading Shaun Groves blog…you should be.  He is such a great writer, both funny and poignant, and he has a real depth to his writing.  I always finish his blog posts and walk away thinking a little more deeply.  So add him to your daily reader if you haven’t already.

Alright, I’m off!  I have pumpkin bread in the oven and it’s making my eyes water it smells so good.  I need to peel the kids away from that electronic babysitter called the television and get Tia to school.  Onward!

Dream a Little Dream

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I am a dreamer.  A day dreamer, night dreamer, all the time dreamer.  A dreamer with an active imagination.  With all this dreaminess there is often quite a bit of disappointment.  Because dreams don’t always come true.  Of course, the fulfillment of dreams all depends on how you view things.

When I was little I dreamed of being a famous actress.  This is a common dream for most young girls, I suppose.  At least most young girls who like to be on stage…and I did like to be onstage.  I learned at a young age, though, that being famous would mean a lot of elbowing around, jockeying for position in a pool filled with talent.  I may be a dreamer, but I’m not a big fighter.  It only took a few experiences of rejection to scare me away.  Maybe I should have tried harder, but the fact is this dream was just that – a dream.  It wasn’t a passion.  You have to have dreams combined with passion to power through that type of rejection.

As a young adult, I was made aware of a tiny little gift I had with words.  That’s nicer than saying I am long winded and just happen to be able to spin my wordiness in a way that’s comprehesible, right?  About this time I did my first Beth Moore Bible Study and I determined that I would one day write Bible studies like Beth Moore.  I dreamed of holing myself up for hours at a time with nothing but my Bible and computer.

It didn’t take me long to realize that God created only one Beth Moore.  That’s not to say I couldn’t write a Bible study or two someday, but trying to match the spunk and verve with which Beth Moore writes is like saying I’m going to go out and be a 7 time Tour de France winner like Lance Armstrong.  Just because I can ride a bike doesn’t mean I can win the race, ya know?

As I’ve gotten more mature (notice I didn’t say older) my dreams have evolved a bit.  I dream more realistically.  I dream about what my children will think of me when they’re grown.  I hope it’s good things as a result of happy memories.  I dream of seeing my children grow and mature in wisdom and knowledge.  I dream about what they will be like/look like/act like as teenagers and adults.  (Sometimes I fear this to!)  I dream of where life will lead us as a family.  I dream about the experiences I want to give my kids – where I want to take them, what I want to expose them to, who I want them to see and meet.

I dream of living in a mansion and having two maids – one to clean my house and the other to do my laundry.  I dream of handing my personal shopper a grocery list and having her return an hour later with bags in tow, then handing them to the cook who prepares all our meals for us.  I dream of the private jet that will shuttle us to our private island in the Carribbean…

Um…not all of my grown up dreams are realistic.

I do dream of exposing my kids to a world outside their own.  I dream of taking mission trips as a family.  I dream about serving our local community together as a family.  I dream about introducing my children to the concept of missions in a real and tangible way, passing along the heritage that is so rich in our family’s history.

I dream of sleeping through the night.

I dream of having a greater involvement in the Russian culture with my children beyond simply teaching them the language.  I dream of having a greater impact through my writing  beyond simply sharing the mundane moments of our days.  Even when the mundane moments are pretty funny. 

For example as we drove in the car yesterday Sloan asked me when our dog, Sadie, would have puppies.  I told him she wouldn’t because she was fixed to not have puppies when she was a baby.  “Oh,” he said.  “Did you fix her because it’s so messy and gross for dogs to have puppies?”  “Um…” I answered.  “Yeah,” he continued.  “When dogs have puppies they shoot ’em out all goopy and black…like a rocket.”

I dream of better monitoring what my children see on TV.

I dream of touring Europe with my husband…. I can check that one off the list!  The only problem is now that I’ve done it once I dream of doing it again and again.  Gonna have to reign that one in.

I like dreaming.  Sometimes it’s all that gets me through the long days.  Other times, however, it breeds discontentment so I have to keep the dreaming in check and be as realistic as I can, while still allowing the occasional hope to peek through (like the private maid and personal chef – I’m not letting go of that one too easily).  The thing with dreams is that so often you can look back and see God’s hand in them and see how they came true.  Sometimes they are realized in a way that’s a bit different than you imagined, but often they’re even better than what you imagined.

Dreams are good.  Dreams are scary.  Dreams sometimes require action.  And that may be the scariest part of all.  I can’t sit back and lay out my dreams before God and then wait for Him to make them happen.  Sometimes I might have to chase a dream without knowing if I’m supposed to trusting full well that He will make that clear to me in time.  This sometimes requires a rather frightening leap of faith.

The best part about trusting God with your dreams is looking back and realizing He gave you far more than you could have asked or imagined.  Even in the heartaches of the past, I see how He carefully wove the fabric of my life to bring about the fruition of dreams I didn’t even dare to dream.  Perhaps that’s easy for me to say as my life is abundantly blessed.  I would be remiss if I didn’t confess that there are hidden heartaches and unrealized dreams that are hard to let go of.  But if I’m willing to look beyond those circumstances and really stare into the face of what’s before me I could say this without a single doubt:

My life is a dream come true.  And I never even tried to dream this up.

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