Snow Day Seymour

This is the view outside my window today. Snow. Cold. Ice. It's still snowing as I write, and should be continuing for a bit. This, of course, means school was cancelled today. I'm still holding out hope that school will be in session tomorrow, because that means Jackson's Parents Day Out program will be open and I can be child-free for a day. Besides, today was supposed to be Katie's big 100 Day celebration at school. You know, the one I sewed one hundred tiny buttons onto a shirt for? Yeah, THAT 100 Day! I know the celebration will just happen whenever she goes back to school, but I want it to be tomorrow. I'm excited for her! We've already counted out 100 oyster crackers for her to take to school, and her shirt is ready to wear!

We've had a pretty good snow day so far. Cabin fever hasn't set in (yet), and both kids even slept in a bit today. Our neighbor (three streets down) and her two daughters came over to play. Katie is in the same class as one the daughters, so they had a grand time playing under the dining room table and in the basement fort and with toy cars. After they left and Jackson went down for his nap, Katie and I snuggled in to the LoveSac to read a new book we bought yesterday, called Can You See What I See? Seymour Makes New Friends. We recently got hooked on these books through the library, and I took the kids to Borders yesterday and bought Katie her very own edition (along with a great kids' Bible). The books are kind of like Where's Waldo, but with photos of real items. There's usually this little beaded dude hidden in the photos, but this book is specifically about Seymour (the little beaded dude). He starts the book reading his own book about bunnies on a seesaw and decides to make his own bunny and seesaw. Each page thereafter has a photo with some sort of supply that Seymour uses to make the bunnies. The goal is to search the photos for a list of objects that is printed on the side. After we read for about 20 minutes, Katie and I had the brilliant idea to make some Seymours of our own!

I trekked down to the basement to find pipecleaners, beads and some old pompoms I bought years ago. We set everything up on the kitchen table and got to work threading pipecleaners through the beads. It was so easy, and we were both squealing with our final results.

After our first two, we made two more for Dan and Jackson. Did I mention we named them Penny, Seymour, Bob and Charlie? Yep, we did. We even wrote their names across their bellies.

I had been talking to Katie about making Valentines for her classmates, and this led to our next brilliant idea: let's make Seymours for all 18 kids in her class! Turns out it wasn't that hard. We used the pompoms that were already "pre-drilled" with plastic tubes inserted through them, and opted not to use any beads. They turned out pretty cute too.

Now, I'm catching up on the blog and other computer work, and Katie is at the kitchen table making personalized Valentine hearts to go along with her pompom Seymours. The house is quiet, the snow is still falling, and we are happy.

An Apology

Dear Dan,

You know I love you, right? I'm sure you do, even though I don't show it as well as I'd like to these days.

Take last night, for instance. You came home from work, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. I asked about your day, and you told me. You. Told. Me. Something I remember begging you to do years and years ago: "Why don't you ever talk to me?" And so, you did. And yet, what was my reaction? Some heavy sighs. Some nods of my head as if to say, "Come on, hurry it up." Because, as usual, I was wearing the Mommy Hat since it was dinner time and the aliens needed to be fed.

They consume me, honestly they do. And sometimes, like last night, I worry that they won't leave enough leftovers for you or for me. I didn't have the time to devote to listening to you like I should have. I let your words just roll through my ears and snagged only enough to get me the gist of the conversation. Yes, I heard you, but I didn't listen and converse with you the way I wish I could. The way we used to. The way we still do when I'm wearing the Wife Hat, and baths are done and lights are off and we use whatever's left over to nourish our starving souls.

I hate this. I hate that we are put on the backburner in order to survive the early childhood years. I miss consuming each other, and the fulfillment that gave us. Instead, now we have the wild banshees clamoring for crumbs of whatever we can dish out to keep them satisfied. Don't get me wrong: I don't hate them, and I don't hate our life. I just miss you. I miss us. But the consolation in all of this is that I know neither of us is going anywhere, that we are there to catch each other when we trip or fall down from exhaustion. Sometimes, I glance at you and know you are trying to tell me, "Don't worry. I'll be here still when the craziness has died down." For that, I am eternally grateful to you. Thank you for not giving up on me, on us.

Last night, I fell in love with you again because I saw with perfect clarity what a strong, amazing man you have become. (I say that only because I can still remember our early days when we were both learning to stand on our own feet as we navigated college, first jobs and first moves.) Last night, you spoke words of encouragement and experience to a friend who is where we were five years ago. Overhearing your conversation (yes, I eavesdropped for about four minutes), reminded me of the number one reason I love you. It's your tenderness. Every single one of your good qualities flows from your unending tenderness.

I love your heart. I love that The Color Purple always gets to you. You are oh, so strong! But that tenderness is never buried very deeply. You are an old, experienced soul, created by God to bring constancy to our world. And I'm not trying to be sappy, romantic or melodramatic, but you have rescued me. You, my dear, are the epitome of God's love for me. You have turned the intangible into tangible. Your love is transcendent, inspiring, and uplifting. You make me want to be a better person, just so I can live up to the view you have of me. As long as I live, there will never be enough ways or words for me to properly thank you. I've turned to God instead, trying to thank Him for you, because I know you are His gift to me. You are the person He knew I'd need to weather the storms I've face in my life: divorce, cancers, deaths, anxiety attacks, moves, postpartum depression, and lupus.

I have three major fears in my life: ending up like my mom, dying alone, and surviving you. I know I could survive without you, but it is unimaginable to me. Whenever I discuss that fear with you, you always reassure me that it will never happen. And for some reason, I have the wildest belief that you are right. Maybe you are psychic (as you've tried to convince me), or maybe God just knows my breaking point.

So, now, I have an apology to make. I am sorry for all the times I've put you last on the list. For all the times I was glued to the computer or TV when I could have unplugged and interacted with you. For all the moments I let slip by when I should have thanked you for busting your butt for us. I am sorry for taking you for granted. And I'm doubly sorry because I'm pretty sure I'm going to take you for granted again. Thank you for being resilient and loyal to me, and for always sticking around when I do that.

I love you, more deeply and purely than I've ever loved anything or anyone before. Thank you for the love you give me in return, every single day.

Elizabeth

Warmth

I never mentioned what a warm Christmas I had, did I? I am lucky enough to have friends and family who noticed my issues with the cold weather. Namely, my Raynaud's Syndrome keeps cutting off the circulation to my fingers. I am amazed at how thoughtful everyone has been about that. Jen gave me a paraffin wax machine. My mother-in-law has made at least 13 different hand warmers for me to microwave. (She went and bought different types of filler and sewed me a bunch with cute fabric she picked out - even Mizzou fabric!) Michelle gave me mittens and hand warmers, the kind you use for hunting, along with the sweetest note about how I make the world a warmer place. My sister gave me an electric warming throw for Christmas, and I got a second one from my in-laws. Dan gave me adult-sized footie pajamas.

But I have to admit that my favorite "warming" gift was one I wasn't even sure I would wear. Beth and I had been shopping in the past and I said I'd like one of those puffy vests that are popular right now, but I was afraid that it would make me look even fatter than I already do and I might be mistaken for a marshmallow. I hemmed and hawed over it on a good two or three separate shopping trips with her. Well, she went ahead and bought one for me. And the coolest part is she had it monogrammed for me through our friend's embroidery business, Missy Doo's. The truth is I HAVEN'T STOPPED WEARING IT for about a month straight. Seriously, y'all. I have worn the vest almost every single day because it keeps my core body temp pretty toasty. I love it! And I feel so cute and "with-it" since it has my monogram on it. I haven't had a monogrammed item since the monogram fad in grade school. (Don't you love my pink sweater with the navy blue embroidery?! How about the hair? Ah, I was so young and innocent then.)

So if you see me wearing that same old vest over and over again these days, now you know why. (Seriously - go look through recent photos of me on my blog and you'll see the vest a few times.) My fingers are still losing circulation from the recent bitter cold weather, but at least I'm a little warmer these days.

Thank you to all of you who love me so much and are trying to keep my body warm, my spirits high, and my heart full. You are warming me, inside and out!

History

Dear Katie & Jackson,

One day, a long time from now, I will tell you about the way life used to be for me. I will tell you about growing up in the South, and how people hated others for their race and sometimes even their religion. I will tell you how I saw it happen, with my very own eyes. And once I even saw some people turn the hate right back on a person and shun them for their racism. It was pretty powerful. Maybe I'll tell you about my parents and how even they held beliefs that you might consider ignorant and archaic.

My hope is that when I tell you these things, you'll stare at me with wide-eyed wonder and surprise. Kind of like I used to stare at my parents when they told me about their lives without television. I'd scoff at them, hardly believing their descriptions of life before TV. Maybe you'll scoff at me when I tell you how someone was ostracized for being friends with a person of another race, or hated for daring to (gasp!) like someone of another race.

Today is a day you won't remember. Katie, you may have a flash of memory about today, but Jackson won't remember it at all. God, I hope and pray that you won't remember today, that it won't be much more than a blip on your radar screen in years to come. And here's why: I hope that the celebration of today, the inauguration of our first black president, becomes commonplace for our country. As shocking and appalling as that thought might seem to some people who are so incredibly PUMPED that today has finally arrived, I am hoping that it will be nothing big or special when you grow older. Because I'm hoping that a day like today will help racism become a thing of the past, and will help our country move deeper. My dream for you and your generation is that you'll be able to look beyond a person's outer shell and see what lies inside of them. I dream that not only for you, but for my grandkids too.

Katie, last week you told me about Martin Luther King, Jr. and said to me, "Mommy, did you know that some people used to not like brown people?" It was a confusing concept to you. For that, I am grateful. I pray that it continues to confuse you, and that you'll never fall into that trap of hate. Look deeply, learn compassion, and practice generosity. Let January 20, 2009 be a day of new beginnings for us all.

Love,
Mommy

A Celebrity Comment!

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I am thrilled beyond thrilled. You won't believe this! I just checked my in box and I GOT A COMMENT on my last post by a real, honest-to-God published author, Kelly Corrigan. I am giddy! And what's even cooler is that I. Am. Reading. Her. Book. Right. Now. Can you stand it?! Yes, this is the book I stayed up way too late reading last night, and the book that is talking directly to me in almost every chapter. (I about fell out of bed when I read that her dad used to recite The Cremation of Sam McGee too!!! Did he also recite Casey at the Bat like mine too?) This is the same book I was buying at the mall today to send to my sister, but I forgot my coupon. (Don't worry, I'll go back!)

Now it will take some major willpower for me to do the tasks on my To Do List that I already had planned for naptime (clean the kitchen, refresh my memory on Lost before it starts tomorrow, watch the Inauguration on Tivo, log Girl Scout cookie orders, make phone calls, update my mom's club roster, check my sister's Facebook account like I promised), instead of going and sitting down and finishing her book, The Middle Place. I am just thrilled. (Did I already say that?!) How did she find me? Oh, wow. Please tell me I'm not a dork for being so excited about this. Y'all would be too, right? I swear, it's made my day now. Maybe she'll come back again? Maybe she'll start lurking at my blog? Woo hoo! Okay, it's official. I have crossed over into Dorkdom.

Georgia On My Mind

I'm back home from my trip back home! (How's that for confusing?!) I returned from Georgia at noon today, and Katie and Dan were there to greet me at the airport. Katie ran to my arms, and I hope she saw the joy and exaltation in my face. I missed my three loves! Absence does...

But I had a good trip to Georgia too. My high school friend/bridesmaid Sarah picked me up from the airport Friday night, and we grabbed dinner so we could catch up on our lives. I love that we fall so easily back into our friendship, after talking less than once a month and seeing each other about once every three years. I like talking to her because she knows my history and the person I used to be, but also encourages and likes the person I've become. That's a good type of friend to have.

After dinner, Sarah drove me to my sister's in-laws' house, where we were staying for the weekend. When Mom was sick in 2004, the sister's in-laws' house became a second home to me. They let me stay with them for a good two or three weeks, and were gracious in letting me come and go as needed, on trips to and from the hospital. I really enjoyed getting to know them that summer, and kind of think of them as my additional family. And this weekend was no exception. Celia (my sister's mother-in-law) said I could adopt them as my Georgia family now. Isn't that sweet? But now I have to figure out what to call them. My sister's in-laws really is too confusing.

So I arrived at my "Georgia family's house" and my sister and nieces were already there too. We hugged and then stayed up until about 1am late talking and catching up. I crashed in bed that night, happy to be back home and with my sister again.

Saturday, we slept in a bit and then had pancakes for breakfast... which I didn't have to cook. Ah, the luxury! After breakfast, we sat around the kitchen table trying to change ringtones on about four different phones (ABBA for Celia, Beatles for Dick... although we could never find the one song he wanted). Then showers and then Mary and I split offf from the group for two hours to go visit our high school.

Aack! Words cannot express how old that made me feel. We were lucky enough to get inside and see a basketball game in the "old" gym. (Honestly, that's what the label above the door said! Apparently, they have built a new gym now too.) The flashbacks were disconcerting, and then we headed down to the cafeteria. Aack again! Unfortunately, the rest of the school doors were locked so we couldn't get a full trip down memory lane. However, we pressed our faces up against lots of windows so we could peek inside. When did the hallways and lockers shrink? Because I remember the school being MUCH bigger back in the nineties!

As if the high school wasn't enough to stretch my brain, we headed to our old neighborhood next. Let me paint the picture: the last time I saw my house was in February 2005, five months after Mom died and five days before Dad died. This photo was taken that day. The house had been "flipped" - it was in bad shape when we sold it after Mom's death, and a realtor bought it and rehabbed it before selling it again and making a profit. We saw it before the realtor sold it to its current owners. So I had seen some of the (huge!) changes back in 2005. But this is the first time I'd actually seen anyone living in "my" house. We had already contacted the owners and asked if we could come over, so it's not like we did a sneak attack.

Here's the house in 1996, on the day of my brother's funeral (which is why the flag is at half staff):

Here's the house this weekend:

My tears started flowing when we pulled into the driveway, and I kept telling myself to get a grip. We knocked on the door, and Joe and Wendy invited us inside and introduced us to their 3- and 7-year-old sons. I apologized for crying, and then that was the end of the tears. Because, truthfully? Once I got inside, there were so many changes in the house that I could hardly recognize it for what it used to be. And I was truly happy to see it so beautiful again and to know that it was loved and new memories were being made inside those walls. We got the grand tour of the house (which was immaculately clean and made me feel guilty that Wendy went to so much trouble for us), and saw every nook and cranny. How cool is that? I mean, would you allow perfect strangers in your home and let them see even the innards of your closets? And yet, they did. More than I could have ever hoped for. We chatted with them for a while, and got to see how their lives (and especially their kids' lives) are mirroring our own: the same schools, same neighbors, same activities that we did as kids. For some reason, that brought lots of peace to my heart. Finally, we took some photos (of course I did) and said goodbye because we had to meet the in-laws.

Here's Mary and I on the steps:

Here's my old bedroom, from 2004:

Here's my bedroom now (adorable!):

We met up with them and headed up to Cartersville GA to check out the brand new Tellus Science Museum. It was pretty cool to see all the new exhibits like dinosaur replicas, old cars and planes, geodes, minerals, and we even got to dig for fossils. This is Mary's face distorted in one of those magnifying glass panels.

There was even a cool pendulum in the lobby, and I tried to get an artsy photo (a la Jodie). Not sure I succeeded at that.

After the museum, we went to Mary's brother-in-law's house for a great steak dinner and good conversation. (Funny side note: Mary's brother-in-law also married a Mary, so it gets a bit confusing around them, especially since the Marys now have the same last name.) The kids put on a show for us after dinner, and we got to hear Dick's gift-giving theory after watching the Beware of the Doghouse video on YouTube. (I should post the video I took of him explaining it on YouTube, but I'll spare him the embarrassment.) Afterwards, we drove home and headed off to bed.

Sunday, we went to Dick and Celia's church. It's also the home church of my high school friend Kelley, although she's off at school in California so I didn't get to see her. (Although I did surprise the heck out of her mom when I tapped her on the shoulder!) After church, we went back to the in-laws' house for lunch, followed by an excruciating FIVE HOURS of computer searches for their summer beach house rental. Seriously. They got out three laptops and searched all these websites for beach houses, yelling out to each other the features of each house. It was the epitome of family craziness, but made me smile nonetheless. (Although I left about three hours into it because I need a craziness break.) They ended their search in a family laptop huddle, and finally narrowed it down to two choices.

The girls headed out to Target afterwards, then a late dinner at Chili's before heading home to read in bed. Ah... so nice. I got to just sit and read for an hour and a half. Heaven. (Not to mention the three nights of uninterrupted sleep. Woo hoo!)

This morning, we were up early to get my favorite Chick-fil-A for breakfast on the way to the airport. Hugs all around, then I was kicked to the curb (just kidding, Mary) and my family visit was over. So sad. But I'm proud of myself too - I didn't even cry! (Which is different than previous goodbyes.) I made my way to the gate, then sat myself down and read a book until it was boarding time. I even finished the book and started a new one on the plane. (A new one called The Middle Place by Kelly Corrigan that I can already tell is going to be an all-time favorite for me. Thanks for sending me this YouTube "Transcending" link, Marti!)

And then my flight landed, and I greeted two of my loves, and almost all was right with the world. It was all back in line when I picked Jackson up from Parents Day Out at 4pm. Everyone survived the weekend without me, even though Dan said he needed to plan more activities to keep the kids busy next time I go away. Dan is a champ. A great dad. He's still "on duty" even now, feeding the kids dinner while I blog.

The weekend was just what I needed to refill my tank. I got to see flashbacks of the life I used to lead, back when I was someone's child and before I had to take responsibility for my own. I have to admit that parts of the weekend did make me a little sad, and it made me wish for things that I can no longer have back (my parents, my hometown, my carefree years). Most of all, it made me long for the day when I can take my kids to visit. But I also know that in the same moment when I long for the things I can no longer have, I thank God for the things I do have: Dan, Katie and Jackson. I can't have my past and my present at the same time, can I? Time moves on, people and landscapes change, and I've learned to look forward. Doesn't mean I don't miss the past, but I don't live there anymore. Literally and figuratively, of course.

It was good trip. No, it was great. I'm at peace, content, and happy to be back home.

Shhhhh...

I'm trying to be very quiet right now. You know what it's like - Jackson is stirring in his crib, and I think he's close to screaming and therefore ending his nap. I am hoping that if it's quiet enough, he'll go back to sleep. That means nobody better call me so the phone won't tip him off that I'm out here!

I am so very very excited to get on an airplane in less than 3 hours and go visit my big sister and my hometown. Is it awful of me that I haven't even told any of my friends (except the one who's getting me from the airport) that I'm coming in town? My sister said I'm not allowed to, since I should be going to visit her only. Isn't that just so selfish? And I love it.

Of course, I am looking forward to seeing family and my "home" (even though I haven't technically lived in Marietta, GA since 1992). But, heck, I'm thrilled just to step out of the car and into the airport where I don't have to worry about anyone but ME. No runny noses to wipe. No one constantly wanting my attention. No meals to make. No laundry. No agonizing diaper changes (have I mentioned that Jackson STILL fights every single dirty diaper change?!). No late night wakings. Yippee! But on the other hand, I will miss Dan's arms around me at night. I'll miss pillow talk with Katie. And rocking Jackson at naptime. And cuddling in the LoveSac. And watching American Idol on DVR with Katie (which can just wait 'til next week). And church this weekend. And sleeping in. (Mary says I'm not allowed to sleep too late this weekend.)

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And quiet makes Jackson sleep longer. Oh please, oh please, oh please just hold out a little longer, buddy!

I'll blog when I return about my trip. Let's hope there are no "Miracle on the Hudson" crash landings! Y'all have a great weekend. I know I will!

Our Weekend

After my crash and burn on Thursday, I got lots of love from my friends and family and I feel rejuvenated after a good weekend.

First, the weather was halfway decent on Friday so the kids played outside for about an hour. The sunshine (what little of it there was) helped us all feel better and breathe easier. Saturday morning, I weighed in and lost 3.8 pounds. Yeeow! I'm almost to my first goal and I've refocused my brain and will power. We went to a birthday party on Saturday, then Grandma met us and took the kids to her house for the night. Dan and I had all afternoon to ourselves, which was so nice.

Dan went to the Walgreen's clinic to get an Rx for his sinus infection, then we went to church together. You have to understand that is such an amazing thing to write. We had a "date night" and chose to go to church?! Years ago, that wouldn't have even crossed our minds. Church was awesome, then we went out to dinner at O'Charley's and saw the movie Gran Torino. It was pretty good, although I think he used every single racial slur in the book. I know that was part of Clint Eastwood's character, but it still made me squirm in my seat.

Today we slept in and then the grandparents brought the kids home to us. They stayed for lunch (we got takeout at one of our favorites, El Maguey), then my friend Jennifer picked me up so we could go workout at Gold's Gym. We met Joe there because it was part of our Team Turtleton training schedule. We walked on the treadmills for an hour (3.5 miles), and I even RAN for two of those 60 minutes. Me? Running? Hell has frozen over, y'all. It was a great workout with great conversation, which made me feel so good.

Tonight I made a treat for the kids for dinner (chocolate chip waffles), and Jackson was COVERED in chocolate by the end of the meal. We tried to get a photo of it, but he wouldn't cooperate so you'll just have to take my word for it. Another awesome thing this weekend? Jackson started counting. Yep! He says, "1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, NINE!" and then sometimes finishes with "Yay!" because he's so proud of himself. What a genius!

Now I'm blogging before I head upstairs for my weekly tub. Ah... bliss.

As for that list of needs that I wrote about last Sunday? I have spent the past week focusing on it, and trying to make sure I take care of myself as well as I take care of others. (Uh-oh... maybe we're all going down the crapper then!) Of course, I had a meltdown on Thursday, but just trying to keep the focus on my needs this week DID help. I made a chart in my journal and at the end of each day, checked off the needs that I fulfilled. I realized it's not so difficult to make myself happy. That's a good feeling.

And thanks to my sister, I have one need that is getting fulfilled this coming weekend... but it's a need I didn't list and didn't realize I had until we talked on Thursday after my meltdown. She is going home to Georgia this weekend to see her in-laws and invited me to meet her there. So... I decided I would really really like to do that, and I'm going home! As soon as I talked to Dan and we made the decision, my heart started fluttering because I am so excited. I can't wait to see my sister, who is a Home to me all on her own. And I can't wait to visit my hometown. I haven't been back since Mom died in 2004. Yes, I know that means I'll probably have quite an emotional response to being back. But, oh! I am so looking forward to going! Thanks for pushing me, Mary.

I'm off to go soak now, and start what I know is going to be a better week. It has to be, right?

Imaginary Conversations

"Hey, Mom. It's Poozie." *sniff*
"Hi, honey. What's wrong?"
"Oh, Mom. I can't do it anymore."
"Can't do what?"
"I can't do this job. I suck at it. I don't have the stamina to survive them, the kids. And I don't know how to do it. I don't know what I'm doing."
"Oh, honey. You don't suck at it. You're doing a great job."
"Then why does he fuss and cry all the time? He's unhappy because of me. And I'm unhappy because of him."
"Honey, he's just a baby. All he wants is for you to love him."
"But I do, and it's not enough."
"Yes it is."
"I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to raise a kid."
"Neither did I. But I did it and you will too. You already ARE doing it. Look at your firstborn. You didn't kill her, and she's thriving."
"Yeah, but that was different."
"How?"
"Because I only had her, and I worked. And you were still here."
"Yeah, but you still raised her. And look at her now."
"But she was easy. And he's not!"
"Oh, she was easy? I remember your tears over her too. Did you forget her tantrums and crying through the night?"
"No."
"And you made it through that."
"Yeah."
"And you'll make it through this."
"But how? I don' t know what I'm doing!
"Just do what I did - remember the way YOU were raised. And think of the people you want your kids to become. Teach them how to get there."
"But I keep screwing up and yelling at them and losing my temper."
"So did I. So do all moms. But we all turn out okay. Say you're sorry and move on. And try again."
"But what if I screw them up?"
"Honey, you won't. And I know already you haven't. While you've been sitting there crying, didn't you see the worry in his eyes? He brought you his favorite toys and a pillow to lay your head on. He patted your head, just like you pat his when he cries. He pointed to your tears and said, 'Sad' and then, 'Sorry, Mommy.' Now doesn't that tell you that you're doing something right?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Then keep doing it. It won't be easy, but it never has been. But it's worth it. One day your kids will call you like this, and you can say these same things to them. And you can tell them what I've told you."
"But what if I'm not there for them like you aren't for me?"
"Then you write it down. But they'll know anyway, because of the way you raised them."
"Thanks, Mom."
"You're welcome. You'll be fine."
"I know."
"There you go. That sounds like the Elizabeth I know."
*groan*
"I love you, kiddo."
"I love you too, Mom. Bye."

How am I going to make it through raising my kids without my mom there to guide me or reassure me, or even annoy me? It was a rough morning, and the only solace I had was an imaginary conversation with my mom. Pitiful. I would write what I said to my dad too, but I don't want to wallow in the grief too deeply today. I just wish... ugh. Fill in that blank yourself. And if you still have parents around, then stop wishing and go DO it. For me. (And let me know what advice you get back so I can at least pretend I have my mom guiding me.)

Award from Scrappy Sue

My bloggy friend, Scrappy Sue, gave me a nice little honor. She chose me for an award (She says my blog OOZES calm. Wha?!) about a week ago and, being the overly scheduled frazzled mother that I am, I haven't posted the award until now. So, without further adieu, here it is:

Thank you, Sue! I've enjoyed getting to know you and all the little Kiwi customs and mannerisms that you write about. I'm even hoping to meet you one day!

Now I must choose eight bloggers to pass the love to. You'll have to forgive me if I already sent you an award in the past. I just spent the last 10 minutes searching my blog to make sure I am not repeating myself, but it's possible. (I feel like I'm living Groundhog Day around here lately.) So here's my love, and I'm passing it around!

Southern Grits & Tidbits: I first "met" Shannon after that incredibly crazy thing called a Bloggy Giveaway. (That took some MAJOR energy out of me... the giveaway, not Shannon!) Anyhoo, I love reading her blog for a different perspective on the world: namely, life with FOUR boys and living on a farm. She is full of energy and life and seems so open and fun.

My Garden Hat: Janera is someone who continues to push the edges of my heart, making it grow and expand on a weekly (if not daily) basis. Her writing is so centered, wise, and inspirational. I "met" her through that same Bloggy Giveaway that I mentioned above, and have been so blessed by her as a prayer partner and a friend.

Jodified: I found Jodie's blog when my husband's cousin's wife (isn't it easier to just say Brandi?) sent me a link to her maternity photos and then the newborn photos. (You won't believe the poop photo.) I was drawn to Jodie's honesty and her ability to juggle the craziness in her life. It makes me feel less alone in my own juggling act. Her photos are pretty darn good, too!

Looking Up in the Downpour: I found this blog through my sister, who is related to Hillary by marriage. Hillary's second daughter, Natalie, died in 2007. She was only 14 months old. I've been reading Hillary's posts as she deals with her grief and also the birth of her third daughter. She is so frank and raw about her emotions, and so strong and full of faith too. Her husband deployed this week, so her life is overflowing with stress right now. I read and pray for her, and hope you do too.

Nate Hudson: Julia is Nate's mommy, and started this blog when he was first came home from the hospital as a preemie. Julia and I lived in the same neighborhood growing up, and I was thrilled to find her blog and link back up with her. Her family and my family were always very close, and it's nice being her "neighbor" in the bloggy world.

Serendipity: I met Tammy in real life when she joined my mom's club. She has since moved away to Oklahoma, and started her blog after she moved. I'm lucky to have a way to keep tabs on her and watch her kids grow up long distance.

Way Up High in the Monkey Bread Tree: I just recently stumbled on this blog, and have enjoyed reading it and lurking. I'm still getting to know it, but thought I'd nominate it for an award.

Tripled Pink: This blog is a new one for me too. Keira is married to Richard, who I know from the church my family attended back in the '70s and '80s. My mom kept in touch with his family, and then my sister and I kept in touch with them after Mom died. I just found out about Keira's blog from a family Christmas card. I'll be reading it often.

My Needs

I woke Saturday morning pretty grumpy and annoyed. I was having another one of those pity parties, where I think I have been meeting everyone else's needs except for my own. I thought to myself, "Who's going to meet my needs? Who takes care of me?" And then a couple of things hit me. First, do I even know what my needs are? If I don't, how can anyone else? Secondly, if my needs aren't getting met, then it's my responsibility to talk to those who love me about helping me fulfill my needs.

I started pondering. What are my needs? And what things are really only wants, not needs? Now I ask you: have you ever really truly pondered these questions? What would your answers be?

I made a list (of course I did, don't y'all know me?) of my needs and my wants. I ranked my needs on a scale of 1-10, 1 being insignificant and 10 being crucial. I also tried to label the frequency of the need (daily, weekly, etc.). The first thing that came to mind for me was a daily shower. Yes, I NEED a shower every day. That was a 10. Also on my list: daily time "off" (which could be fulfilled during naps, after the kids' bedtime, or on Parents Day Out days), ten minutes of quiet daily, praying on my knees, church weekly, 30 minutes of computer daily, weekly meditation bath, daily 15 minute talk with friends and Dan, daily exercise, weekly weigh in, blog twice weekly, and going to bed at 10:00.

The wants are: 30 minutes of reading daily, 1 hour of computer daily (the need is 30), blog every 2-3 days, and going to bed at 9:30 (which I am missing by seven minutes at the moment!).

Here's the sad thing, which I'm kind of ashamed about: did you notice that my kids aren't listed in my needs? Maybe that's because I'm parched for time away from them right now, as three weeks of cycle break is coming to an end. And maybe that's because I am with them daily, almost hourly in some cases, so the need has already been fulfilled. I didn't put breathing or eating on my list of needs, because it goes without saying. Maybe that's the same with my kids?

So now that my needs are so plainly laid out in front of me, I have to figure out how to use time management to fulfill them. Dan and I had a good talk last night, and he is going to take care of some items. I'd like to handle some of the others by having a better daily routine. With school back in session starting on Tuesday, that should become a little easier.

I've kind of enjoyed this whole exercise in figuring out my needs. I've asked myself some important questions, like:

What moves me?

What are the chains that hold me back in life?

How long can I expect to keep up my current pace?

I think the new year is a GREAT time for asking myself these questions. The bottom line is that once my needs are met, I can fulfill others' needs. Because I know, without a doubt, that there are three other people in my house depending on me. I gotta be on my game for them.

Welcome, 2009!

"For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning." ~ T.S. Eliot

2008 in Hindsight

I know some people who don't think much of the calendar change. The days are the "same," even if the year has changed. But, for me, I think pretty deeply about the old year passing into the new. I make resolutions every year, even if I don't stick with them. There's something that appeals to me about the promise of regrouping, refocusing, and starting new. Life is full of second chances. That's what a new year signals for me.

But I can't welcome the new year without pondering the old. This past year was less traumatic than others for me (1996, 2004 and 2005, to be exact), but it was still hugely impactful (is that even proper English?). I grew more into myself, and I can feel the weight of it now. Here's what I'll remember about this year - and please note that this list is different than the "Top 10" list I usually send with our Christmas card/email. Because this is the real deal, with scars and bruises and joy and change.

1. 2008 started off with the best 30 days of the entire year (Danuary), which made this year probably the best year of all 13 married years of my life. Yes, there were downs but there were also some great ups too. I learned to trust my husband even more than I already did, and we strengthened our bonds and tightened our love. He is and will always be the love of my life. He is also the one who exasperates me the most, as I do him. But I know, without a doubt, that God made us for each other and that we will continue trying to not screw it up. It's hard work, but with amazing payoffs.

2. 2008 was the year I started blogging. I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating: I can't begin to express what blogging has done for me. Not only have I made new friends, but I've discovered (or re-discovered) my passion for writing and learning. My blog has opened my eyes to a whole new world, and helped me feel less alone and more loved and understood. It's a lifeline that I've created to the future me and the future Katie and Jackson, because it's an heirloom that I'm creating for them. It's their legacy, but it's a gift to myself as well. I have found immeasurable joy in such a simple thing.

3. 2008 was a year of learning my limits. I mean this in so many ways. Of course, there's the obvious limit of my lupus diagnosis. I'm pretty proud of myself for stepping off the roller coaster of life after my diagnosis, and paring down the unessentials in my life. I learned that I don't have a boundless store of energy. That was a pretty shocking concept for me, because I've always just gone hog wild and never put much emphasis on limits. (That explains why exhaustion and overextension kept tracking me down.) I'll always have the tendency to do more, because it's in my genetics. But in 2008, I learned there's a cost to "more." Besides the health limits, I learned earlier in the year about my mental limits. I hit a brick wall in May, and realized I had reached my limit with the kids. I was unhappy and at the end of my rope. I admitted it to Dan, and we came up with two solutions: the necessity of me leaving the house at least one night each week, and an additional day of Parents' Day Out for Jackson. Those two solutions haven't made everything peachy and rosy, but they sure have helped me get a grip.

4. 2008 was a year of changes. Of course. If there weren't any changes, then I guess I'd be dead. Right? One change was a small victory: the loss of 16 pounds. (I probably gained 10 back over Christmas, though!) I still have more to lose, but I want to acknowledge the 16 so far. And there were other changes too: I gained new friends and strengthened relationships with old friends, and also saw some friends slip away. I've read that sometimes you have friends only for certain seasons of your life. Life ebbs and flows, and that's okay. There were other changes, like our church. And that brings me to...

5. 2008 was a year of deepening. God's love rooted itself more firmly in me. He did it in small, subtle ways that led to one BIG change. First we started attending the contemporary service at our old church in order to work around Jackson's naptime. I didn't like it at first, but then grew comfortable very quickly. That led to opening some new channels in my heart. Then I started immersing myself in other areas (worship through music, learning my limits & listening to my heart's true desires). On a whim and through a friend's invitation, we visited a new church. We weren't really planning to leave our old church (despite lots of issues), but I got hit upside the head with a desire and calling to attend this new place, Windsor Crossing. It is speaking to me in ways I never thought I needed, and in ways I'd already heard but hadn't truly listened. Does that even make sense? I am compelled and feel such a blatant NEED to be at this church. I'm almost embarrassed to admit how much I need it. Y'all are going to start thinking I'm a Bible thumper, aren't you? I wouldn't quite put it that way, but I will say that I'm not ashamed to admit my need for God's presence in my life. I'm humbled, and so drawn to His nourishment and hydration. This year, He has drawn me close. I can honestly say I have felt His presence multiple times this year, and been moved to tears by it. I can literally feel my soul deepening and widening from the things I've experienced this year.

So there it is, all the cards laid out on the table. The real deal. I started writing this post about three hours ago, when 2008 was still bright and sunny. Now dusk is rolling in, and the sky is fading on the last day of the year. The sun will rise tomorrow on a new day, and a new year. I'm finished looking back and ready to look forward. And I can't wait to see where the path leads from here.

"It's not who you knew and it's not what you did. It's how you live." (Point of Grace)

The Mother Letter

Dear Mother,

Oh, the things I would say to you if you were still here.

First and foremost would be, “I am sorry.” Secondly (and a tight race for first) would be, “Thank you.” Of course, most people would say those things to their mothers. But they wouldn’t have the reasons that you and I have, would they?

I think you know why I’m sorry. And although I said it to you often enough when you were alive and we were trying to superglue our fragile porcelain trust back together, “I’m sorry” didn’t work. I’m not sure why. Then by the time it would have worked, we found we didn’t need it after all. The sins were forgiven, and the hindsight we had made “I’m sorry” insignificant. Trivial. These days, I find that I’d still like to say it to you anyway. Until death’s finality had claimed you, I didn’t know so many things about you. I truly didn’t know how very much you loved me. So the “I’m sorrys” of the past didn’t have the weight they would now. They were the flippant “I’m sorrys,” the ones that meant, “Lay off. I’m trying, can’t you see?” Now five years after becoming a mother myself (and four years after becoming an orphan), my “I’m sorrys” would be full of regret and weight, knowing all the things I did to you that cracked your heart wide open. “I’m sorry” is the repentance I need to give you. This time, I hope you accept it so I can cleanse my heart and soul. I have a childish need to feel your forgiveness, to know you have let the grudges go.

On the heels of “I’m sorry” comes exasperating gratitude in the words, “Thank you.” Oh, Mom. I didn’t know! Really. I thought you gave of yourself because that’s just what you did. I had no idea that you gave of yourself because you had no other choice: we kids sucked it out of you. I had no idea it was the calling of ALL mothers. And I had no idea that you lost yourself in the process. I’ve been fighting that for years now. Not that I don’t want to be a mother like you, but because I’m afraid that if I let the children suck me dry, I’ll have nothing left when they’re gone. So, thank you. For all the nights you spent cleaning up my puke. Thank you for nursing us when breastfeeding wasn’t popular. For staying married to Dad. For revolving around me, my friends and hobbies. Thank you for teaching me to write. For making our house a home. For saying no. For giving me faith. Thank you for letting me have my way. For all the times you helped me spread my wings, even when you knew that doing so meant you were losing me. Thank you for surviving three children, a divorce, your son’s cancer, and your own illnesses. In doing so, you taught me how to be strong.

I didn’t know that when you raised me, you were channeling your own mother. And probably your mother’s mother. Because when you become a mother, you rely on the child-rearing knowledge that you already have, which is your own mother’s rearing of you. I didn’t know this until five years ago, when She came into my life. Now I hope and pray that I can model for her what you modeled for me: strength, grace, friendship, commitment, sacrifice and love.

What I wouldn’t give to ask you if you felt this same way (like you’re losing your mind one day and completely head over heels in love the next). I have a feeling you did feel the same, but I wish you could tell me the stories in your own words. And, oh! How I wish you could meet my daughter and son, and they could meet you. I’d like to hear you say what great kids I have, because they are pretty amazing. They are your continuation, the culmination of the years of frustration and heartache, joy and love you put into civilizing me.

So, I’m sorry, Mom. And I’m also grateful. I am who I am because of you. And my children will be who they will be because of you too. The circle continues, like a big spiral of life. Thank you for linking me to my past, and your past too.

I love you. And I miss you.
Elizabeth

The History of the World Starts with Katie

Seriously. You can see it in the photo, can't you? She's right there at the start of time.

No, really. These photos are of one of Dan's Christmas presents. I bought him Adam's Chart of History, which is this really really cool book that chronicles the entire history of the world. According to Sebastian Adams. And only up until 1871. The "book" is technically more of a timeline wall-chart than a book. The thing is about 22 feet long and two or three feet wide. See how it stretches the length of our living room?

But, man, it's cool. It's a "synchronological" multi-timeline (for lack of a better word) complete with maps and diagrams that starts with Adam and Eve and the Stone Age.

The chart covers ancient rulers, wars, statemen, councils and even U.S. presidents. Here's the end:

We're thinking that one day, when the basement playroom is not quite so, uh, destructible, we can hang the chart so the kids can read it and learn about history. Pretty cool, huh?

Jackson at 21 Months

I've already mentioned quite a few ways that Monkey Boy is driving us nuts. He's also adding a few more degrees of angst right this moment, as he is screaming and fighting his nap while I am trying to blog in peace. I am rising above it by writing a post about his wonderful side. Monkey Boy truly does have one, I promise.

He's blossoming into this amazingly cute little boy. He adores his big sister, and usually his first word when I enter his room in the morning is, "Day-dee?" as in, "Where's Katie?" He is spunky and scrappy, ready to tackle and chase anything that moves. When I do crunches during my workout in the morning, he thinks it's an invitation to body slam. He gets a wicked grin and straddles my stomach and starts bouncing, as if he's riding a horse. Then he squawks and squeals because, really, what could be more fun?

I love the way he walked around on Christmas Day with a fistful of football playing cards that Santa left in his stocking, muttering "poo-ball" to himself over and over. And at mealtime, he would sit in his chair and point to our holiday carousel on the counter and say, "Mommy wake horsey up," his way of asking me to turn the carousel on.

I love that you can see the concentration on his face when he's thinking or playing. In my family, we call that furrowed brow "Steeley Eyes." Maybe I'll explain that in another post sometime.

When I sit on the floor to play with Jackson, he takes that as an invitation to read books. He grabs a book from the shelf (usually it's Big Dog Little Dog or Are You My Mother?) and brings it to me and plops into my lap saying, "book." Of course he doesn't want me to read it. He just wants to flip the pages and point to pictures. But it's a start.

I love that every time we get in the car, Jackson asks for his best friend, Liam. He just started calling him Liam about two weeks ago. Before that, Liam was "B-Beth" because that's what Liam always calls me. (Elizabeth is hard for a two-year-old to pronounce.) So Jackson called him B-Beth until Liam kept saying and insisting, "I not B-Beth. I LIAM." I think it finally took. Jackson thinks we are going to play with Liam every time we get in the car, probably because we usually end up seeing Liam at least half the time we go somewhere.

Jackson calls his milk "boppy." Not sure why. He loves to build with blocks and then, like most kids, knock the blocks over.

He loves loves loves balls - throwing them, kicking them, sitting on them. Lately, he's been carrying a rubber ball in one hand and a plastic cat in the other. And if he has room, he'll cram an empty Altoids box in his grubby little grasp too. He carries these things around all. day. long. Sometime he even sneaks them to bed too.

I learned a little trick from my friend Danielle, who credits our friend Mary. They both started telling their kids things like "It's gonna cost ya" to bribe a kiss from their kids. I've been trying this with Jackson, and I think it's starting to work. I'm a little more blunt, though. I just tell Jackson, "Mommy kiss" and now I'm starting to get the kisses. He'll walk up to me and say, "Mommy kiss" and I'll bend down and get one for no reason at all. They are the most gooey, slobbery kisses in existence, but oh-so-sweet.

About two weeks ago, we were listening to Christmas music while driving around and looking at the holiday lights. My iPod was playing "Joseph's Lullaby" by MercyMe. It is a heartwrenchingly beautiful song. Dan asked me to burn it to CD for him so he could play it for Jackson while they rock before bedtime. That song has now replaced the song we've been playing for both kids since Katie was six months old: "Lullaby (Good Night My Angel)" by Billy Joel. When "Joseph's Lullaby" starts, Jackson curls up into your chest and sucks his pacifier (he switches the consonants and calls it "dap-see" instead of "paci") and I am telling you what: you have never felt such peace and love in your life. It makes the Monkey Boy moments worth it. Almost.

"Joseph's Lullaby" by MercyMe

Go to sleep my son,
This manger for your bed.
You have a long road before you.
Rest your little head.
Can you feel the weight of your glory?
Do you understand the price?
Does the Father guard your heart for now,
So you can sleep tonight?
Go to sleep my son.
Go and chase your dreams.
This world can wait for one more moment
Go and sleep in peace.
I believe the glory of Heaven
Is lying in my arms tonight.
Lord I ask that he, for just this moment
Simply be my child.
Go to sleep my son
Baby close your eyes
Soon enough you’ll save the day
But for now, dear child of mine.
Oh, my Jesus, sleep tight.

Christmas Week

Here's what I'll remember about this week, or at least what I want to remember (some parts I want to forget):

Baking cookies for Santa. Painting Katie's nails. A painful Christmas party with my mom's club, as Jackson SCREAMED because I wouldn't let him have a fifth cookie. Our Advent wreath. Parachutes on Christmas Eve. Getting sick at my in-laws on Christmas Eve. Reindeer food. Listening to Dad read to me again, through the magic of DVDs and Skype (Thanks, Mary!). Luminaries lining our street. "I got it, Mommy! I got an MP3 player!" Cinnamon toast. Monogrammed vests. A new CD from Santa, with my newly favorite song on it (it's now the first one on my blog player, called How You Live by Point of Grace). Waiting on the stairs. Tulips. Kisses. Dan reading, "Now, DASHER! Now, PRANCER!..." and Jackson's face watching in wonder. The kids crawling under the tree like moles. Sock monkey footie pajamas. Mother-Daughter matching necklaces.

Most of all, what I want to remember is that Christmas is just one day. Full of magic, yes, but just one day in a year of others to remember the Reason. Thank you for all these blessings, God; the ones under the tree and the ones in my heart, and the ones that scream for cookies and bounce with joy for MP3 players.

Happy 13

Today was our 13th wedding anniversary. (Yes, I know. Stupid idea to get married this close to Christmas. More on that in a moment.)

Grandma offered to babysit so we could go out for our anniversary. Since we already had a big date in November that we considered our early anniversary celebration, we chose to do something low-key tonight. We went to see the movie Slumdog Millionaire, which was pretty good. Our plan was to get wings (my fave!) at Buffalo Wild Wings, but it was packed for the Mizzou game. So we went to a high-class, fancy restaurant. No, not McDonald's. Better than that! We had ourselves some Cracker Barrel. Yummm-meee! Seriously. This Southern girl was happy to have a biscuit and country ham. And there was even candlelight from the kerosene lamp bolted to the table. Be still, my heart. Even better? We got to shop in the store too. Yeehaw! To round out our romantic evening, we stopped at the grocery store on the way home to get the ingredients for my Christmas Day dish that we are bringing to the family gathering. Home by 9:00, and that was our romantic night out. And yet it was perfect.

Now about that 23rd of December thing. Yes, I know it was an inconvenience to ALL of my family and friends. Yes, I still hear about it to this day from certain *AHEM* bridesmaids. But there were benefits: our family was together for Christmas, right? And I saved tons of money on church and reception hall decorations, since Christmas decorations were already displayed. The best part? Every year for our anniversary, we are forced to slow down in the midst of Christmas chaos and take a little time for our marriage. Although that often includes extended family in one way or another (a musical one year with my mom in tow, or last year's dinner at Moe's with my two kids, sister, brother-in-law and two nieces). But we're together, and that's all that matters.

Happy 13th, hooney. Thanks for sticking by me this past year, when things got difficult and scary. Thanks for always coming home to me and the kids, and for loving us with fullness and depth. You are my best friend, and I love you more.

Monkey Boy, or Why My House is Booby Trapped

I'm going nuts. Nuts, I tell ya. All because of a certain little boy named Jackson. Oh, Lord. I thought Katie would be the "spirited" (read: high-energy, exhausting, demanding death of me) child. Oh, no. Was I wrong! Her brother is breaking all the records.

Case in point:

Do you SEE what he's doing in that photo? The other day I caught him climbing the gate that we had to Velcro across the stairs. I moved the gate and now Katie, Dan and I are in danger of breaking our necks, but at least Monkey Boy can't climb it (YET). Instead, he's decided he'll climb the OUTSIDE of the stairs. Ay-yi-yi!!!

On Saturday, Dan caught Jackson on top of the kitchen table pouring a can of Coke down the front of himself. Jackson also loves to climb the sofa onto the counter behind, and he's having a blast pulling Christmas decorations down. And let's not forget how much he loves to crawl behind the sofa to pull plugs out of the wall.

(Do I even have to mention that KATIE WAS NEVER LIKE THIS? Spirited, yes. But wormy and wiggly and able to climb tall buildings? NO. We didn't NEED to lock the pantry door or latch the oven shut! Both of which are necessities now, as seen below.)

After Jackson climbed and stole Dan's water glass off an end table, Dan and I had enough of it. My idea was to rent a storage space and put all our first floor furniture in it for the next nine to twelve months, until Monkey Boy gets some depth perception and the fear of God in him. We decided that would be no fun. Where would we sit?

Instead, the first step in our Monkey Boy Action Plan was to rearrange the living room furniture. The sofa is pushed into the bay window so Monkey Boy can't crawl behind. Yes, the sofa is now blocking two air vents. And, yes, the curtains are smashed into the windows. But now Jackson can't electrocute himself (at least not at those outlets). We also swapped the positions of two chairs and emptied the end table (because now he has easy access to it and it wouldn't do to have TV guides and remotes in there anymore), and we removed the sound system speakers. HA! So far, so good: Monkey Boy can't climb onto the counters anymore.

Our second step was today: Dan went to Home Depot and bought heavy eye bolts and bungee cords. He bungeed the chairs to the table so Jackson can't climb onto it anymore. The bad news? Now Katie can't get into her seat without help because the bungees are pretty strong. Oh, well. We'll just do some bicep training with her until she can manage it on her own.

For now, we may have thwarted Monkey Boy's plans. However, I don't think we've clipped his wings or won the war. I'm sure he'll figure out some new way to turn our house into an amusement park. Stay posted. And if you happen to visit our house anytime soon? Now you don't have to wonder why you can't open anything and will be unable to escape. ARGH!!!

Glutton

I fully sated my appetite for Christmas music this weekend. I feel fat and happy and have Christmas music playing in my head on a continual loop now.

Let me back up to Friday night. Although it didn't involve Christmas music, it did involve the Cha Cha Slide. I made a movie as a Christmas gift for my neighbors, and 6 of the families got together at one house to watch it. It was 30 minutes of photos spanning eight years, and I think it was a hit. There were some wet eyes in the room, as we watched our kids grow up together and were reminded of some really great memories. I'm glad I could share that with them, and give them a meaningful gift. And I'm really glad that I keep my camera handy so I have photos to make into movies!

Saturday morning was spent weighing in at Weight Watchers (I actually LOST weight this week, unbelievably!) and then doing a few things around the house during Jackson's naptime. One of those things was cuddling with Katie and reading books for 45 minutes straight. She is trying to log six hours of reading so she can win a ticket to Six Flags.

Saturday night, Katie and I went to Grace Church St. Louis to see The Little Drummer Boy. (Here's a link to a slideshow of it.) It's the first time I've been and it was AMAZING. Wow. Katie and I both loved it, and I can't wait to go again next year. Here's a short video I took of their second-to-last song. This doesn't even begin to convey how awesome it was.

This morning was church at Windsor Crossing. I haven't mentioned much about our new church, but suffice it to say that every single time I go, my heart is split open wide and my soul is bared. Today was no exception. The music was... was... I can't even explain it, y'all. It is just. so. good. Mmmm. They sang lots of Christmas classics, but in updated arrangements: O Come Emmanuel, Joy to the World, O Little Town of Bethlehem, Silent Night, and Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus. I never thought of the last song as a Christmas song, but it shook me to the core. I told Dan that I wish I could bottle up the feelings I have a church so I could sip at them and savor them the rest of the week. Especially in the midst of the holiday chaos.

Tonight I took Katie to one last concert. We went to see Carols and Candlelight at First Baptist Church Harvester. It was a full choir (about 65 singers) and orchestra (22 musicians) that performed carols in their classic arrangements. It was good, and I always enjoy a full choir singing their loudest.

I've immersed myself in Christmas this weekend. It helped tremendously, because I've been feeling pretty Grinchy about the full-time job that Christmas adds to my regular full-time job, what with all the shopping, wrapping, paying bills, decorating, sending Christmas cards, etc. (PLEASE tell me I'm not the only one!) I've been searching for the Christmas Spirit the last 21 days, and caught glimmers of it this weekend. Today's sermon at Windsor was about the Light in the darkness. I'm hoping to follow that Light for the next few days, and into the new year. I hope you all can too!

Half Birthday

Katie is exactly five and a half years old today. We have never celebrated a half birthday before, but I thought it would be fun this year. I had already told her today was her half birthday, so she was expecting a little bit of fun.

She woke this morning and crawled in to bed with me while I snoozed (the best part of her Cycle Break from school!). I had her one gift ready for just this moment. I told her I had a special gift for her, one that I worked hard on and made just for this special occasion. It was a book called "Why I Love Katie." I gave it to her and told her now that she is five and a half and such a good reader, she has to read the whole thing to me. She opened it up and read all 39 pages. Each page is a photo of her, and I PhotoShopped text on each picture saying why I love her. For example:

The second to last page of the book is a drawing she did in her school journal. I just had to include it, because I love how she described herself. (Clockwise from top: I am a... star, friend, sister, cousin, person, princess, daughter, girl.) After that page, I added a handwritten note by me about how proud I am of her. She seemed to really like her book.

After we dropped Jackson at Parents' Day Out (thank God the snow didn't keep it closed yet another day this week), Katie and I went bowling with friends from our mom's club. She had fun using the ball ramp and also bowling granny style. We ate lunch there, too.

Later on we picked Jackson up again and came home to play before a special half birthday dinner. She ate her favorite meal with all the items cut in half: chicken nuggets, grapes and cheese.

For dessert? A cupcake, since it's like a mini cake, i.e. a "half" cake. Right? Right.

I think Katie enjoyed her half birthday, and the extra attention it brought her. Scary thought that the big SIX will be here in a flash!

Blessings

I went to bed last night with a smile in my heart, after reading an email sent by my cousin/friend Marti. It made my heart overflow and I started thinking of all the blessings I have. So I jotted down a list of random things I am thankful for... beyond all the "regular" things like my husband and kids and extended family, plus some pretty amazing friends, plus our home and food and car and employment. (Not that those things are "regular" and therefore not noteworthy, but you know what I mean.) Here's my list from last night:

My health. My family's health. Windsor Crossing. Team Turtleton. Literacy. My blog. True love. Electric blankets. Handwarmers. Lotion. Liquid bandages. Skype. Medicine. The Iron Man telecast. Computers. Candles. Prayers. Music. Prayers set to music. Baths. Losing 16 pounds. Good eye doctors. Memories. Raisins. Advent wreaths. Surrogates - women who have helped fill the hole Mom left. Buffalo dip. Sleep. Favorite pens. Learning. Overnights at Grandma's. Forgiveness. Tivo. Goatees. Heat. Sunshine.

Enough.

Playing in Traffic

Did I mention that I'm in "training" for a half-marathon next September? The reason I put training in quotation marks is because I'm not really in true training mode just yet. I'm keeping up with my regular workouts, but not doing anything hard-core just yet. I figure I can buckle down once spring hits.

Oh, and before y'all get all impressed, I forgot one little detail: we are WALKING the half-marathon. There are five of us who are doing this together and our team is called Team Turtleton. We don't plan on breaking any records. If we just finish the 13.1 miles, we'll be ecstatically happy.

Our team is meeting every three weeks for an extended walk as part of our training regimen. Today was one of those walks, and it coincided with a 5K. It was my first Team Turtleton event. There were supposed to be three of us walking together, but Coach Joe got sick. So my friend Michelle and I hit the road and walked the I-64 Fun on the Freeway 5K by ourselves. St.Louis has had major road construction and shut down a large portion of one of the main interstates. That portion is re-opening tomorrow (as they shut down the other part - ugh!). But before it re-opens, they are doing all kinds of festivities on the highway like carriage rides, music, and this little 5K.

Michelle and I showed up and got to watch all the crazy pros hopping around in their skimpy running outfits, while we were bundled up in our sweats and gloves. We walked the 5K in about 50 minutes, which isn't bad for my first time out of the gate. The best part is the shirt we earned by finishing the walk. Now we're official!