Minivans Are Hot

Why we’re both scarred for life

November 14, 2011 By Kelli 20 Comments

First things first: To the individuals responsible for deciding and implementing the change in policy that allows children to leave their shoes on while going through airport security, please send me your name and address. I would like to send you cookies.

Or…no, I want to send you a fruit basket.

An Edible Arrangement!

If I could kiss you, I would. But that would be weird. I feel compelled, however, to do something to convey my sincere love for you and your wise decision. You all don’t get praise often enough, but for this you deserve sainthood.

Oh yes. Yes you do.

Flying with the kids is always an adventure. A well choreographed dance. And when it’s just me, the ballet turns into tap and I am the MASTER. This last adventure with the kids was just short of peaceful. They each had their own backpack, which they were able to carry with nary a complaint.

Suh-weet!

On top of that, I packed nothing but a small bag containing only my wallet, my sunglasses and my ipad. That was it. No sippy cups. No diapers. No snacks. No toys. It was so easy and my bag was so light that I spent half my time looking around in panic, sure I’d left something behind.

Turned out it was just my sanity, but I’ve long since been able to find that so no worries.

Once settled on the plane, things got a little more interesting. There were four of us travelling, but only three seats to a row and everyone wants the window seat. After the heat of my flaming dagger eyes calmed everyone down, we came to the not so convenient decision of me and the boys sitting in one aisle and Tia sitting next to the window in front of us. I watched as person after person looked at her and passed on by until finally a mercifully sweet young couple braved sitting next to the pig-tailed cherub with her nose pressed to the window.

I felt I owed them money about midway through the flight as they helped her retrieve item after item from her backpack wedged beneathe the seat. And of course, there was the dreaded, “Mom, I need to go to the westwoom,” immediately after take off.

My daughter makes it her mission in life to need to pee at the most inconvenient moment possible. Last time, her immediate need resulted in all four of us cramming into a bathroom together.

We like adventure.

When it became apparent that Tia was in imminent danger of springing a leak, we made a beline for the bathroom at the back of the plane.

“The seat belt sign is still on,” the stewardess said gently as we hustled back. She glanced down at Tia who was dancing, her eyes clearly conveying desperation. “Oh,” she smiled. “I see,” and she gestured us on by. Bless those who understand five year olds with overactive bladders!

We made it to the bathroom and I yanked open the door and that’s when time stopped for a moment too long. Yelping, I slammed the door shut again, the vision of his wide, dimpled backside forever seared into my brain.

Why?! Why the unlocked door?! And why the pants around the ankles?! Why?!

Maybe she didn’t see, I thought, slowly looking down at my daughter who had finally stopped squirming. Her eyes were wide, much like my own.

“Dat. Was. Gwoss,” she said quietly, looking up at me.

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing as I rushed her to the front of the plane, because Lord knows I didn’t want her seeing that man’s face so she could point him out to her brothers and everyone on the plane.

Let this be a public service announcement to you all: LOCK THE DOOR WHEN YOU USE THE AIRPLANE BATHROOM!

I fully expected to hear of “Air Butt” the rest of the trip, but somehow, mercifully, she never brought it up. Maybe she found it to be as disturbing (or more so…it was pretty much at her eye level) as I did. Maybe she just forgot. I certainly don’t plan to ever mention it to her again.

Sadly, the unfortunate incident only added to my alreadyunreasonable fear of airplane bathrooms. Forget being sucked out – now every time I enter a bathroom I’ll have that image in my mind.

Neat.

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Gross, Kids, Tia, Travel Tagged With: airplane bathrooms, Flying with kids, unfortunate incidents you can never forget

Takin’ Care of Business

October 20, 2011 By Kelli 22 Comments

This post comes to you with a sheepish, yet polite, request for help. I hate talkin’ shop, but wanted to just toss a few little things out there. Don’t worry, though. This post won’t be all dry. I’ve got a gem of a story to tell you at the end.

It’s my dangling carrot.

So here’s the deal, friends. I stink at self-promotion. It makes me wildly uncomfortable. As I told someone recently, it makes me feel a bit like the girl standing on top of a table in a crowded room and screaming LOOK AT ME!! And I’ve never been much of a table top kind of girl.

Ahem.

But, my goal in the next few months is to beef up the readership and participation on my blog. And to do that, I need your help. If you read something on here that you like, would you mind forwarding it on? You can hit the little Facebook button at the bottom of the page, or if you’re the Tweetin’ kind, you can give a little Tweet.

You know…if you want.

Also, well I don’t talk about it much and, to be quite honest, I don’t utilize it much, but I DO have a Minivans Are Hot Facebook page that you can like by clicking riiiiiiight…here. You don’t have to drive a minivan to like the Facebook page, but I will warn you that should you choose to follow the blog AND the Facebook page, you will likely start to feel the pull of the minivan.

Because minivans are bringing sexy back.

Huh?

Whatever.

If you do read something you like and have a second or two to respond, well, I’ll confess – I’m a bit of a comment whore. I promise I will respond to you…or you can respond to one another. I like community so let’s build a community of minivan lovin’ (or hatin’ – you know who you are) women…and men, too. I know you guys are reading.

Finally in the manner of business, I would like to ask if there’s anything you guys would like me to specifically write about. Is there are particular topic you like better? Is there something you’d like me to avoid discussing (the frequency of my childrens bowel movements? DONE! – Look how accommodating I am)?

Seriously – let me know.

Now, on to that carrot:

The Scene:

A beautiful, sunny Florida afternoon. The kids are playing outside while I enjoy a few quiet moments alone to do whatever I want – which means I’m cleaning the kitchen…again. The windows are open and a beautiful, cool fall breeze is drifting in. Nothing can break the perfection of this moment. Nothing, that is, until I hear a scream that rattles the glass throughout the house.

The back door flings open aaaaaaaaand CUE DIALOGUE!

“Mooooooooommmmm!!!” Tia shrieks, running into the house all sweaty and red-faced. Sloan comes running after her with a tormentuous (this is my blog – if I say that’s a word…it’s a word) grin on his face.

“What in the world?” I say as she throws her arms around my waist and cries. “What’s going on?”

“Sloan stole my gun!” She cried. Sloan throws his hands up in mock innocence. “What’d I do?” he yells.

“What gun, Tia?” I ask, detaching her from my leg.

“My pwetend gun! I was fightin’ the bad guys with it and Sloan took it and now the bad guys are gonna kill me!”

Pause.

Uuuuummm.

“Tia, if it’s a pretend gun, can’t you just get another one?” I try my best to say this without rolling my eyes.

“Nope, she can’t,” Sloan says with a smirk. “Because I destroyed all the guns in the imaginary gun shop.”

“Yeah!” Tia cries again. “And he ate the pie I made for Justin Bieber who was gonna come over for dinner at my pwetend house! I don’t LIKE Sloan.” She stomps her foot and runs to her room, slamming her door.

“Whatever!” Sloan yells in return, huffing to his room.

Landon walks in at this moment and strolls past me with string and a crowbar tucked under his arms.

And this folks is why I am slowly but surely losing. my. mind.

The End.

Filed Under: Blogging, Family, Florida, funny stuff that happens, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Minivans, Motherhood, shameless self-promotion, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: Blogging, Building Community, mama's going crazy, Minivans Are Hot, Self Promotion

A Party for all Eternity

September 7, 2011 By Kelli 28 Comments

We laid the Bible on the table and she sat silent for a moment, the weight of God’s Word sinking deep.

“God thinks I’m important?” she asked.

We just finished reading from Genesis when Abraham, obeying God’s command, took Isaac to the mountain and lay him on an altar. He raised the knife high, willing to sacrifice his son yet heartbroken to do it.

“Abraham, Stop!”

A lamb.

A thicket and an altar of thanksgiving.

A promise kept.

To me, it was just another story. But the message she got?

The words whispered to her soul?

God thought Isaac important. So important, he was to be spared.

God thinks her important.

So important, she was to be spared.

A Sacrificial Lamb sent to take her place.

“I think I’m ready,” she said, very matter of fact. No doubt, the voice did not waver.

And later that day, nestled on the bed between us…she answered the knock.

Confident.

Joyful.

Beautiful.

She understood. The acceptance holds weight.

Truth.

The dirt…

Made clean.

Daughter.

A Princess.

And when the prayers were finished, she smiled wide.

“Heaven’s having a party for me now, right?” she asked with a grin.

And they are. I imagine it to be a grand feast with birthday cake, Nutella (naturally) and M&M’s – all her favorites.

We had our own party.

At a restaurant on the beach we celebrated over chicken fingers and shrimp.

An altar of thanksgiving.

As we wrapped up and the low lying clouds began to shine with the rays of the sun breaking through their surface, she turned to me. All eyes. Big and bright.

Crystal Blue.

Redemption.

“Mom, is my heaven party over now?” she asked.

“No, baby. They’ll be celebrating you for all eternity.”

“Yet to those who received Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God.” John 1:12

*A profession of faith in Christ is really important to us and knowing our children have come to that point brings us to our knees. If you are unsure as to why that’s important to us or you have any questions about why we believe what we believe, please feel free to email me. I would love to chat with you. kellistuart00 (at) hotmail (dot) com.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Florida, Kids, Motherhood, Tia Tagged With: faith, God, Salvation

And Then We Wept

August 23, 2011 By Kelli 11 Comments

An iron will combined with pure determination make her beauty a little tougher to penetrate. Life ebbs and flows under her watchful eye and she pours forth emotion only when unaware that anyone is watching. Fierce love and sheer delight dance in her eyes, though, and it’s here that her tough exterior shows weakness. The best kind of weakness.

Compassion.

Her white blonde strands dance in the wind and her baby blues swim with concern. Her brother has just been punctured by a catfish – his first fishing wound. As blood seeps and he cries, she makes her move unaware of my observance. She slips an arm around his shoulder and squeezes tight. Concern. Fear. Pain.

She feels it all.

She feels my watchful eye and turns to look at me. I nod, showing as little emotion as I can and for a moment, I see her compassion falter. But a maturity is setting in – one that hasn’t been there before. She is five and a half now. She reminds us every day.

What I see is more than an age, though. It’s God. It’s a given nature settling in, begging to be watered and fed. She is seeking and questioning. Who is God? What is Grace? What did Jesus do for me? She asks and I answer. Then we wait.

“I want to know Jesus,” she says from the backseat. “But I’m not ready yet.” And that is okay. We will let her wait and question and seek, because the time is coming when faith will call and she will make it hers. But it will be in the time that feels right to her. She would have it no other way.

I would have it no other way.

He would have it no other way.

Her younger brother cries. In a fit of laughter he took the corner too fast and head met wall with force. He wails and I looks down. Her hand on his ankle and tears in her eyes. She looks entirely surprised by this reaction. Empathy has never been her first reaction. But lately…she’s changing.

“I don’t know why I’m cwying,” she says, her eyes bright.

Compassion.

I say the word to her. Over and over we discuss it. Compassion. I tell her every day now. “You are compassionate. You care. And that’s a good thing.” She needs to know. Because by nature, her independence prefers distance. She likes control and predictability. But compassion…it is unpredictable. You don’t know when it will strike and the tears will flow. Compassion requires surrender.

Late in the evening as a storm meanders off in the distance and the clouds paint the sky in a Master Tapestry of shape and color, she and I walk hand in hand. “Do you want to call her?” I ask. She has been talking about her friend Noelle for several days. I hear the ache in her voice. The tender age of five has not tempered her longing for companionship. She misses her friend.

“No,” she says and shakes her head hard. This is her sign. She doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want to process. The tough exterior is up. We return to the condo and I watch her move.

“Tia. Why don’t you want to call Noelle?” I ask, when the bustling movement of masculinity dashes to another room and we two are left alone. She looks at the floor, then at me. Again her eyes are full and bright and sad. She shrugs. She won’t talk because the emotion threatens and waversand her first reaction is to fight for control.

“Are you afraid that hearing her voice will make you sad?” I ask. And she crumbles. We lay on the bed and weep together. Me for her…and for myself. I miss them too. The friends and loved ones. I miss them. And so does she. She’s only five, but also…she is five.

We spend some time talking about our friends. We remember all the fun we had with them and we rejoice in the blessing of dear, sweet friendships. Then we pray. She clutches to my chest, her hot tears dripping off her nose and together we plead for new friendships to fill the void. For me.

For her.

And one more time before the lights go out we discuss compassion. I stroke her silky soft hair and tell her again. It’s okay to feel. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to love. She possesses all of these emotions in full but letting them out is the trick. It’s the magic.

It’s what makes her so unique and wonderful.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Florida, Kids, Moving, Tia Tagged With: children, compassion, faith, Love, moving is hard

It’s raining today

August 10, 2011 By Kelli 8 Comments

She’s walked around the house whimpering and clutching her ear. She hasn’t slept a full night in four days nor has she eaten much of anything.

This is the child who never says no to sleep and food. Ever.

More than once when she was younger, she would vomit in the middle of the night and go right back to sleep in it and we wouldn’t know she was sick until the next morning when the house smelled like death. Hope you’re not reading this while drinking your coffee.

So we knew something was wrong. The Walgreen’s Walk In clinic nurse lady said Swimmer’s Ear. It was a best guess since she couldn’t see past the impacted wax in Tia’s teeny tiny ear canals. So off we went with drops and an Icee, because Tia didn’t scream bloody murder when the nurse lady looked in her ears.

But…

She spiked a fever and her ear hurt so bad she couldn’t even eat a Wendy’s Frosty for lunch. This was bad. So we made a phone call to a local ENT and I bribed her a second time in three days.

“Be brave and I’ll get you a little treat,” I promised. Because in the past it’s taken me and two nurses to hold her down for an ear exam. Bribery is my only defense.

“That is a nasty looking little ear,” the doctor said as he peeked inside. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she took big deep breaths to keep herself calm. “Most adults wouldn’t be able to function under the type of pain she is probably experiencing.”

Her ear canal has swollen shut, a negative reaction to the medicated drops. Does she have an inner ear infection in addition to the outer ear infection? No one can say because she has so much wax in her ears and it’s packed in tight like cement.

“I’m surprised she can hear anything at all,” he said. I told him we repeat things a lot.

So Friday morning, we are headed into a local surgery center to have her sedated and have her ears roto-rooter’ed (Yes, that’s a word…it’s a verb). From there we will better be able to determine exactly what’s going on inside her ears and hopefully relieve her of this nasty, ugly pain.

Until then, it’s lots of Tylenol and hugs and probably a few more sleepless nights. The little radiator climbs in bed with us around 1:30 when her current dose of medication wears off and sleeps on top of me the rest of the night. The good news is that last night, for the first time in several days, she hasn’t cried throughout the night. And she’s still asleep this morning.

Probably because it’s raining and dark outside.

Look at that, I somehow managed to tie that random title into this post after all. Go me…

How is your week going?

Filed Under: Kids, Tia Tagged With: Earaches, Pain, Swimmer's Ear, Tia

Childhood

June 1, 2011 By Kelli 11 Comments

I am going to post some pictures, but before I do, I feel compelled to offer this warning:

The photos you are about to view contain images of extreme cuteness. View with caution, particularly if you are sensitive to happiness, small children and unabashed joy. These images should not be viewed by the faint of heart or anyone with an aversion to the following items: babies, puppies, rainbows, sunshine or happiness as they will not be emotionally equipped to handle the cute. If you suffer from hard heartedness, view with caution and with full awareness that you may be forced to smile. Proceed carefully and it is advisable to let out a hearty “Aaaawww” while viewing to prevent your heart from exploding.

Phew. Now that I got that disclaimer out of the way, you’re free to look. Does anything scream childhood more than this? Tell me. Anything at all?

Aaaaaawwww…

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Landon, summer fun, Tia Tagged With: Kids, sprinklers, summer fun, things I love

Happy Birthday, Mom

May 17, 2011 By Kelli 11 Comments

So this video isn’t nearly as cool as I wanted it to be. But as we all learned yesterday, I’m not really that cool anyway, so this actually fits quite well.

Today is my awesome Mom’s birthday and she’s half way across the world. I so wanted to fly to England and surprise her for her birthday, but alas, it wasn’t to be. Instead I had the kids write down 60 reasons why they love their Byshka (short for Babyshka – Grandmother in Russian). And here they are, all 60 reasons.

Unfortunately you can’t understand a word Landon says due to his lisp and inability to say several letters but he’s painfully cute so it doesn’t matter.

(A small disclaimer: I promise I bathe my kids, although in this video they are visibly dirty. The bruise on Tia’s chin is the result of an unfortunate run in with a parked car as she sped down the hill on her bike. We’re still working on riding without training wheels. The mark on Landon’s nose is the result of me not clipping his nails soon enough. I have no idea what’s on Sloan’s face. Carry on…)

Mom, I love you and I hope you’re having a grand time in London today. We’re sending kisses from across the pond. I think we’ll even pick up a little birthday cake and eat it in your honor today. So thanks for having a birthday – it gives us an excuse to splurge on a cake. And cake is good.

Love you and see you in a few weeks!!!

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Motherhood, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: Kids, Mom, video

On the wings of love

May 9, 2011 By Kelli 2 Comments

Before we get started, I’d like to give you a moment to let the cheesy ’80′s ballad wash over you. Go on, sing it out. You know you want to…

…

Feel better?’

Great.

There is no great way to transition from obscure ’80′s music to prayer, but I’m gonna give it a try. Consider yourselves transitioned.

Once upon a time I was an early riser. While the rest of my generation slept until noon, I could often be found at sunrise jogging through the streets of my neighborhood. This was pre-baby when I still enjoyed jogging and my body moved in a more coordinated rhythm to make it possible, of course.

In college, I spent many an early morning watching the sunrise as I crammed knowledge into my over-functioning brain. In early motherhood, when it was me and one tiny baby, I watched the sunrise as I whispered prayers into his ear. I prayed he would grow into a man of character, a man of grace, a man of stature and wisdom and knowledge. I prayed that he would be strong and courageous, filled with love and a desire to help those in need.

But something happened to me in the seven years since I three times became mom. I lost my sense of wonder at the morning. My bed grew warmer and more comfortable. My children pitter pattered their way through the house at such an hour that in order to beat them up I really needed to rise while it was still night, just so I could welcome the morning.

With this unfortunate phenomena, I also lost my ability to passionately cry out on their behalf. My prayers for them became kernels of popcorn, popped up here and there throughout the day and rarely scratched the surface of my true desires for them.

“Help him understand love.” “Give her the courage to fail.” “Show him who You are.”

Generic.

A series of issues has brought me to a place of longing once again. Longing for the morning. The smell of life rising. The glint of dew on green grass and the painted reds, oranges and yellows stretched across the sky. Of darkness fading into morning light. Of fatigue mixed together with anticipation, staving off the sleep that still lingers. Longing stillness enough to hear.

To hear the wind blow. To hear the birds sing. To hear the Voice, still and small, waiting on the wings of love for my heart’s cry.

(How’s that for blending the ’80′s with prayer, eh?)

And my prayers are rising once again. A new song, a new desire, a new longing. I lay them down and wait. Sometimes I fall asleep in the pool of desire and heartache that I’ve only just surrendered. Sometimes I wait and listen.

For Sloan I pray Hebrews 10:19-24. May he be free from the guilt that so often weighs him down and pulls him back, his tender heart torn over sin, yet wrestling with the flesh. I pray Galations 5:22-23 and 1 Peter 1:5-6: self-control to make the right choices. I pray for wisdom in mothering such a strong willed, lion hearted child. I offer praise for being chosen for a clearly difficult task.

For Katya I pray 2 Timothy 2:10, that her heart would be turned toward the Savior and she would desire to know Him. I pray Colossians 3:12, that she would be free from the apathy that her spirit seems bent toward and would be filled with compassion. I pray 1 Thesselonians 5:15, that she would find more joy in kindness than she does in torturing her brothers.

I pray that I would have the belief that that last prayer could possibly someday be answered…

For Landon I also pray 2 Timothy 2:10. I pray that even at a young age, he will know and understand how high and deep and wide and vast is the Father’s Love for him. I pray Ephesians 6:1. I pray that he will delight in obedience and that the mischief that brings that twinkle to his eye would be harnessed, but not snuffed out completely. Because the mischief makes him oh so fun.

I pray verses over my husband that are sacred and are between me and God.

I don’t always give in to the call of the morning. Though I desperately love it, sometimes the call of my bed is more tempting, more comfortable, easier and warmer. But as spring is bringing change and decision, I find myself with a bit more urgency to reaquaint with the earliest hours of the day. And to pour over my children in the quiet that comes so rarely. I don’t whisper it in their ears anymore, as I am no longer cradling them in the rocking chair. But I pray that as I release my pleas, they take off on the wings of love and settle within the hearts and spirits of the little ones I love so dearly.

When and how do you pray for your children?

Filed Under: faith, Kids, Landon, Life, Motherhood, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: '80's ballads, faith, Motherhood, prayer, praying for young children

A Royal Tea Party

April 29, 2011 By Kelli 9 Comments

No time to blog today. The Princess and I are taking tea as we watch the wedding of the century. The Prince accompanied us for awhile, but quickly got bored and headed outside to ride the royal tricycle.

Toodles!

Filed Under: Kids, Random, Tia Tagged With: Motherhood, princesses, tea party, The Royal Wedding

Handstands in Heaven

April 26, 2011 By Kelli 5 Comments

Alternately titled: Car Ride of Random

We were heading home from Russian school, altogether as a family (in our smokin’ hot minivan that we now officially own, no less. HAWT!). It was raining. Again. We were tired and a little hungry since I failed in my mom duties and forgot to pack us dinners to go. But we were together as a family and that made everything a little bit better.

“Hey Mom,” Sloan piped up. “Why do girls always pick on me and bully me?”

“Probably because they like you,” I replied. I know the girls in question and I’m not entirely sure that’s why they’re picking on him. I think they’re just ornery, but I felt compelled to give the standard issue Mom answer as clearly directed in Article 16, Section C of the Mom’s Bylaws for Dealing with Difficult Questions.

Lee turned around and grinned at Sloan. “Told ya,” he said. It’s the standard issue answer for Dad’s as well, apparently.

“But why do they like me?” he asked.

“Because you’re cute and you’re smart and funny. Why wouldn’t they like you?” I answered.

“Hey Mom,” Tia yelled from the back seat. It was raining hard, we had to yell. “When I go to school and I wike some boys, I’m donna bully dem, okay?”

*This is the part where I desperately thumb through the Bylaws. There are no instructions. No INSTRUCTIONS!*

“No, you shouldn’t pick on boys,” Lee answered quickly.

“Why?” Tia asked. “You said dats what girls do when dey wike boys.”

DARN THOSE STANDARD ISSUE ANSWERS!

“Just don’t pick on boys. Treat others the way you want to be treated.”

WAM! The Golden Rule. Works every time…

“Hey Mom,” Tia yells again.

“Yes.”