Uncle Mark

Did you think I forgot you? I know your birthday, was several weeks ago. Story of my life...late for just about everything. I hope you find this worth the wait.

It wasn't that long ago that mom and I had a conversation. She found it rude and disrespectful that I usually call you Mark instead of Uncle Mark. Since then, I've tried to make a concentrated effort to remember to put Uncle before your name. It's hard. In mom's opinion, as my uncle and my elder, you deserve the respect of being called Uncle Mark. I get her point. Really, I do. What she doesn't understand though, is that by not calling you Uncle, I'm actually trying to show that you mean even more to me. You will always be more like a big brother than an Uncle, whether I call you uncle or not.

I don't remember meeting you, but I do know you were eight years old when I came into this world. It makes me laugh to picture you being just a bit younger than Rocklin when you first held me. I wonder what you thought. I wonder if you were excited to have yet another niece so quickly after Tam was born.

My mom lived at home (at least for a short while) and then moved just across the street when I was a baby. I spent the first several years of my life seeing you daily, often following you around trying to convince you I was big enough to hang out with you.

My earliest memory, isn't really a memory as much as it's knowing the story. I was too little to truly remember, I'm thinking I was 2-3yrs old? I just know the story because I've heard it so much...that and I still have the scar in my chin. As I've been told, you used to love to swing me around by my feet until we were both dizzy and laughing. It was always great fun for both of us. That is until the day you decided to do it in the house instead of the yard. I'm pretty sure if I had possessed the vocabulary, I would have said "way to go Einstein" the second my chin met the corner of the coffee table. As it were, neither of us apparently learned a lesson that day because I remember being several years older and you still swinging me by my feet...sometimes in the house.

I remember being about five or so and watching football with you. You kept telling me football was for boys, not dumb baby girls and that I should go play with my dolls. Of course, being as strongwilled as I am, I became more determined to watch football. When your efforts to get rid of me didn't work, you finally relented and decided if I was gonna watch football with you, I had to pick a team. I remember sitting on the living room floor while you told me all the teams and kept saying the cowboys were your team so I had to pick a different one. The odds weren't looking good for me. I was about five. I was a girl. I knew virtually nothing about football. I wasn't allowed to pick your favorite team. With the wonderful abundance of guidance you provided I made the most logical pick I could manage. I liked orange. I liked dolphins. So, that's how I became a Miami dolphins fan. Now when they have a lousy season (which I know is most years), I smile and tell Rocklin to blame Uncle Mark.

Over the past several weeks, as I've contemplated the writing of this post, I've had various memories flutter in and out of my mind. I remember being the "bat-girl" for your little league team. Getting rides on the handlebars of your bike. Watching MTV with you when it was newly on the air...my first exposure to bands like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest and Quiet Riot came from posters in your bedroom and MTV videos while you did your homework. (in case anyone's wondering...no I do not listen to any of those bands today)

I remember being the only one dumb enough to say "sure" when you wanted to practice the latest wrestling moves. I remember how cool you thought you were when you had that comb that looked like a switchblade. Later, I remember you staying out past curfew. Treating me like a nuisance when your friends were around, but loving that you had my attention when they were gone. Nights of crying over girls and trying to be a cool tough guy. I remember when the calico cat disappeared, you must have been around fourteen or so? I remember you cried and cried over the loss of that cat.

It's 22yrs tomorrow that my dad died. So much of that time is a blur, memories blocked. One of the things I remember clear as day, is you. I remember mom-mom breaking the news to me on top of St. Georges bridge as we drove towards home. We pulled in the driveway and the first person I remember seeing is you. You hugged me and gave me a purple stuffed bunny and some easter candy. I remember later hearing that you bought me the bunny because you didn't know what else to do and you knew I loved rabbits.

Uncle Mark, do you know that you were my first hero?

All these years later, you are still one of my heros. You are one of the "good-guys". You love deeply, laugh easily, and give generously. You've been hurt and your heart carries some heavy scars. Yet, you continuously give your heart away to those you love.

Thank-you for loving me. Thank you for picking on me. Thank you for giving me a pacifier for my 13th (or was it 14th) birthday and a note to grow up and realize the world didn't revolve around me. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for teaching me about football. Thanks for sharing your parents with me, at times I know that wasn't easy. Thanks for buying me a purple stuffed bunny and a Michael Jackson Thriller shirt. Thanks for not breaking my bones when we wrestled.

Thanks for being you. I'm glad you are in my life. I love you! (even if you are a Cowboys and a Phillies fan)



Uncle Mark and Aunt Joyce 2010

Bedtime stall tactics

I need a drink.

I forgot to brush my teeth.

I forgot to give mommy a kiss.

I need to make sure the door is locked.

I want to find ____(insert name of one of the gazillion special "stuffed-y" animals around here)

I'm hot, can I change into shorts?

I'm cold, could I please have another blanket?

I need to go potty.

These and several other variations of the above play out here at times. The "staller" doesn't usually get far, before all is quiet for the night.

There is one child in particular though...the charmer, the future politician, the one that's really never met a stranger. He has quietly observed these stall tactics play out for years. He has long since figured out that his older siblings are not skilled in the art of negotiating bedtime. He knows asking for a drink, a blanket or even a quick kiss won't cut it.

Nope, this boy means business. He wants to stay up as long as possible and he is fully prepared to turn up the sweetness to get his way. Tonight, he pulled out all the stops.

I love you, mommy.

You are beautiful. More beautiful than Mag's pink bedroom.

I like you lots. I like you more than I like my Thomas (the tank engine) jammies.

I love you even more than I love candyland.

Do you know how much I love you?

I love you more than you ever love me and more than all the planets.

How much do you love me?

I love you firteen more times than that.

It didn't work.

Well, it only sort of worked.

I didn't let him stay up.

I did however, let him get in my bed, in my spot and I cuddled with him until he fell asleep.

I often get asked things like "how do you do it?" Sometimes they are referring to homeschooling, sometimes to simply having "so many kids" (which by the way, I don't think we have *that* many). Oftentimes, it's in relation to dealing with the kids health issues, the lack of sleep etc.

I'd be lying if I said it was easy or that it was just the way things roll around here. The truth is, I often don't know how I do it, except that I do.

God's grace is always sufficient. His mercies are new every morning. He strengthens me when I'm weak. (I know that all sounds cliche...but really, it's the truth that carries me. That doesn't mean I'm always joyful or that I never have a bad attitude in the midst of my circumstances)

I have moments where I'm less than wonderful in my behavior towards my husband and my children. I'm human and I'm exhausted most of the time...not a good combination. There are days where I'm discouraged and think "I cannot do this anymore."

However, it is moments like the above that bring it all back to perspective to me. It makes it all worth it. Health issues or not, lack of sleep or not, perfect obedient children or NOT. I am their mama and I would give my life for any one of them in an instant.

Today was not one of my most stellar parenting days. Yet, when the day is done, I am loved...not because I'm superwoman, simply because I'm mommy. (well, and because I'm a sucker for the sweet bedtime stall tactics)

Roly Poly knees?

It's not a secret that Parker has often been up at night, screaming in pain. For the first two years of his life it was pretty much nightly with rare exception. The past year, it's been a tiny bit less frequent and each episode doesn't usually last quite as long. Though there are certainly nights where it's very very difficult.

Last night, he started screaming around 11:30 after being asleep only about an hour. After several minutes, he was finally able to let me know that his belly hurt. Nothing new. Then through half asleep mutterings he whimpered that his knee hurt. This has been a fairly new symptom over the past month or so. I thought at first, he was just copycatting what he hears from Rocklin. However, it's become obvious over the past couple of weeks that he is in fact having knee/leg pain pretty frequently. Is it growing pains? Is it the same mysterious pain Rocklin's had for years? We don't know at this point.

In any case, his knee was hurting and keeping him from peaceful slumber. I had a flashback to Rocklin about the same age and that at night, I used to snuggle next to him and just rub his knees until he would calm down and go back to sleep. I gave it a try with Parker. At first, he screamed harder, but after a few minutes he was just sniffling and after about twenty mins he was sound asleep again.

Okay, none of that was the point of my post. It was just the backstory. I probably could have made it two sentences, but now that I've rambled, I'm not deleting it. :-)

The point, was to share this funny "Parker-ism" this morning.

He came to me a little while ago and said that his knees both were hurting. I asked if he wanted me to kiss them and he said...
"No. I want you to roly poly them."

I must have had a blank stare, because then he said...

"You know. Roll 'dem like last night. Roly poly roll 'dem makes me feel better"

Ah, I got it. Rubbing knees in a circular pattern= roly poly knees

A lazy day

Jerald has been asking since November if we could go down to the Hawk watch platform at Cape Henlopen State Park. Every weekend finds us with a myriad of things going on, or various children aren't feeling well and so here it's March and we've not gone. Kev decided today is the day.

After church, and after an unplanned service call, we headed out. By the time we got down there, it was getting cooler and we didn't have a lot of time before it got dark. However, we had a wonderful time! Parker has decided that he hates sand in his crocs, but he can tolerate it barefoot without the crocs. This is a significant improvement from last year.

We first went to the Hawk watch station and watched for hawks. We didn't see any, not really the best time of day for it. In fact, we didn't see any birds except a few Vultures and Gulls. After a bit of bird watching and picture taking, we walked down on the beach. Well, we walked a good ways towards the beach, but it was cold and getting late, so we opted to turn around and head back to the bus.

For those that have never been to Cape Henlopen State Park, part of the park is the Fort Miles Historical area. During World War 2, Fort Miles was an important part of the nation's coastal defense. The Hawk watch platform is built atop an underground bunker area. Some of the bricks are knocked out and you can see there is still a table, couch, refrigerator and other stuff in there.

As part of Fort Miles, there were several observation towers built in the area. One of the ones in the park has been renovated and is open to the public. Kev went up with the big boys (75 feet) while I stayed below with the others. Well, actually we started up, but Magdalyn decided to only go about halfway and Aaron freaked after getting about 20 feet up.

Lastly, we went to the Fort Miles area and peaked in a baracks building, saw some of the big cannons/guns/whatever they are called and climbed to the top of the biggest bunker. Parker was a bit scared and so was Aaron. Aaron didn't want Parker to know he was scared though. It was so adorable to hear their conversations.

One conversation went something like this...

Parker: I a little bit scared.

Aaron: We don't hafta be scared. Daddy's with us.

Parker: I hope no enemy guys are gonna kill us.

Aaron: You don't have to be afraid of the em...the emen...the emenies...I mean the bad guys.

Parker: Enemies are strong though, Aary. They might killed us.

Aaron: Nope. No emenies here. They were here a long long long long long time ago, like before we was even borned.

Parker: Aary, will you hold my hand?

Aaron: Yes. I will 'tect you, 'cause I'm your big brother.

Aaron: looks at me and whispers.. "will you hold my hand and 'tect me while I 'tect Parker?"

We also saw an albino deer amidst about 15 deer feeding in a field. Later, as we walked around Fort Miles, there were three deer enjoying their dinner. We were able to get about 100 feet from them before they thought it was too close for comfort.

So fun! I'm so thankful everyone felt fairly well, the weather was nice and everyone had a great time! Glad for a nice "lazy day"!

Here are a few of the pics I was able to get before my camera batteries died.

Checking out the inside of a bunker...


This is what they saw...

My two bird lovers watching for Hawks...(J forgot his binoculars for the first time in over five years!)

Fierce soldiers, guns drawn, ready for battle...

Saturday already?

Where did the week go?
Let's see...
*Kev had to teach three nights this week instead of two. They are trying to squeeze in the snow make-up days before Spring break/end of the year for adult Ed.

*Jerald and Magdalyn are singing in a children's choir Easter Sunday. They spent a good bit of time this week practicing for that.

*Rocklin cannot get enough of the warm weather and spent a significant amount of time with his football. He also enjoyed rolling around the ground ensuring that his knees/shins will remain black until fall...no matter how much he scrubs them in the shower.

*Aaron seems to have given up his obsession with tic-tac-toe (for now at least) and is consumed with checkers and making paper airplanes.

*Parker was extremely sick this week. We were very relieved to find that it was an infection and not a worsening of his other health issues. After a round of antibiotics he's a much happier little guy. Now we are back to our usual symptoms, which is a welcome relief after five days of being so sick. This wasn't the worst he's ever been, but sure close to it. Scary and heartwrenching to say the least!

*Since Parker was so very sick, I was so very tired and the other kiddos were so very ready for the nice weather, we opted to take Spring break a bit early. We ditched school for the week and I let them spend a lot of time outdoors while I cleaned a tiny bit and mostly just snuggled with Parker.

*Once Parker was feeling better, I spent a couple of days trying to reclaim the house. Things really "go to pot" quickly if mom takes a day or two "off".

*I switched out clothing. This meant sorting through about 2o totes full of clothes, pulling out winter stuff from the closets and deciding what to keep/what to toss. Then repacking the totes and washing all of the Spring/Summer stuff. Afterwards, I made a list of what we need to buy for each person to round out our Spring/summer wardrobes. I am SO glad this only happens twice a year!

*Scrubbed my teapot collection and decided to get rid of several of them, so they sat on the table all week until I finally packed them up this morning.

*I did a LOT of laundry and made a lot of meals.

*Jerald worked on mastering the art of yo-yoing.

*Rocklin renewed his love for all things Space/Astronauts/Astronomy/NASA and spent a lot of time reading on that subject.

*Magdalyn read books to the little boys anytime they asked, shared her markers and paper with them and convinced them to play dolls with her.

*We went to the mall for the boys to get haircuts and a bit of shopping. That's the first time we've gone to the mall in quite a while.

*Today we went to the mall again. This time to meet up with Nana and the cousins for pictures. My mom wanted pics of all 8 grandkids together. We used to do this annually, but for various reasons it's been a few years since we've done it. We prepared ourselves to deal with Aaron and one of my nephews to be uncooperative. Dominic hates to have his picture taken and Aaron is extremely sensitive to light and gets bothered by the camera easily. They both did wonderful! Parker though, he was a tough one. We did finally get a few decent pics...he was at least looking at the camera and had a half-smile in a few of them.

I'm sure there are several other little things that happened through the week, but I think I hit the big ones. It was one of those weeks that both seemed to fly by and drag on forever at the same time. Now, we head into the seasonal allergy season and I'm hoping the coughing/wheezing I've been hearing from the bedroom is not going to keep me from church yet again.

Storms in the night...

We have a pretty nasty storm raging outside at the moment. Hard to sleep with the wind blowing so fiercely and rain pelting the window.

Often, it's another type of storm that keeps me awake. The storm of a boy that just can't/won't/doesn't need to sleep. How many nights in the past 3yrs I've been up with him? Watching Bob the builder, cuddling on the couch, piddling on the computer while he bounces around the room.

Then, there are the nights when the storm rages more forcefully, more destructively. The storm of a boy that just wants to feel well. How many nights in the past 3yrs I've been up with him (how many nights in 10yrs with various children)?
Holding him while he screams, crying with him, telling him I'm sorry that his belly hurts so. I remember long nights of putting him in the Ergo and exercising to calm him. Nights of guilt, knowing he screams because of what I've fed him. Nights of wondering where is God when we beg for answers and find nothing.

Tonight. Tonight has been a mixture of all three types of storm. The one outside. Well, I think it's been the gentlest of them all.

The storm of hyper-boy was exhausting. It interrupted my sleep. Yet, it had sweet moments as well. It is in those storms that I'm reminded this is just for a season. Sharing my pillow isn't forever. Laughing with him at 3am isn't the preferred time, but how blessed I am to have him and to have those moments of laughter. Aaron wakes at least once in the night as well and so, for a time I had both of the little boys awake. What a precious time it is in the stillness of the night to share giggles with them.

Aaron: What's that yucky smell?
Mommy: I don't smell anything, Zig.
Parker: I do. It stinks.
*Short moment of quiet*
Parker: It's Rock that stinks
*eruption of laughter from two silly little boys*
Mama laughs too...it's contagious for one and the fact that Rock is not nearby make it even funnier.

Mommy: I'm so thirsty tonight, I need to go get a drink again.
Aaron: I'll get it for you. Parker do you need a drink too?
Parker: Why, yes. Yes, I do.
Aaron: Okay, I'll bring your's first Park.
*He brings the drink and Kev asks why Parker was served first*
Parker: (I've now forgotten his reasoning, but it was something completely unrelated, but seemed perfectly logical in his three year old mind. Aaron agreed)
*Aaron next brings me my drink and spills some on me and down the pillow*
Aaron: It's okay. You drool anyway.

Let it be known that Aaron and NOT Mommy is the one that drools on mommy's pillow all the time.

After several more moments of laughter and funny conversation, I get everyone tucked in and settled. I'm smushed between two little boys. For a nanosecond I want to grumble about not having enough room. Then I remember, these boys will be men before I blink. I kiss them each and Thank God for the moments...the moments of being squished, the moments of sleep interrupted, the moments of spilled water, the moments of sharing my pillow knowing in the morning one side will be drooled upon and the other will be soaked with sweat.

As I lay there, one boy has already drifted off to sleep and the other is staring at the ceiling. I watch him for a moment in the glare of the still hanging Christmas lights. Then I notice, he feels warm. Really warm. I watch and listen to him breathe. I notice the familiar sound of reflux and tummy gurgles and wonder how long before these moments of hyperactivity and giggles become the wails of pain and feeling poorly.

I needn't wonder long, less than an hour later is the answer. I drifted off to sleep for what seemed a moment, but must have been about 40 mins. I was awakened by an even warmer boy fussing that his legs hurt and he wanted daddy. Crowded out of bed, daddy had wandered to the family room long before. I send him off to find daddy, thinking "it's daddy's turn. I'm going back to sleep". A moment later, I hear the wailing of my baby boy. I get up and I follow the sound to my office chair. He's curled in a fetal position screaming his legs hurt and his reflux is to the point we fear vomiting is on it's way. I take a deep breath, scoop him up and we sit on the couch. My sweet sweet little man. It doesn't take too long (this time) before I'm able to rub his legs and his belly and get him to calm down. The refluxing and tummy gurgling calms as his wailing becomes just a bit of sniffling. Daddy brings him the white blanket he loves so much and soon little one is back to sleep.

Again, I remember, these moments are special in their own way. Obviously, no parent wants their child to be sick. Yet, even in these moments of fever and leg pain and GI troubles, I can find the good. It's exhausting, it's frustrating, it's heartwrenching. It's also love. Pure and simple, a boy and his mama...love. I can't fix his pain. I can't promise it'll never hurt again. I can hold him. I can rock him. I can let him know that even when it hurts, I am there. If it means losing sleep, even a lot of sleep, I am there. I can also tell him that God is too. I don't know why we still have no answers despite years of seeking them. I don't know why God seems silent when we beg for answers. I do know though that He's there. I do know that He understands the pain of seeing a child hurt and suffer. I do know that He loves my children even more than I can comprehend. I do know that in both the moments of joy and the moments of pain, He is there and He is leading. The storm outside reminds me to stop and listen. My God is mighty...His might is displayed in the physical sense when a storm rages outside, but it's displayed in the spiritual when the storm rages inside. If I listen, I can hear the beauty in both.

For now, there are still no answers. For now, we still have long nights. For now, I lose sleep. For now, we have five children with unexplained health issues.

For now, I'm going to snuggle up to my littlest guys and watch the exhaustion and frustration melt as the love of a mama and her boys fills the room.

Wordless Wednesday (from the archives)

Favorite Blankets, fostercare and you

Do you have a favorite blanket? When you were a kid did you have a security blanket? Do your kids have a favorite blankie that they refuse to part with no matter how dirty, tattered and worn it becomes?

I mentioned a few post ago that I had a favorite blanket given to me during my college years. Before that I had another one. When I was a young child, I had severe asthma and spent a lot of time in the ER and a considerable amount of time admitted into various hospitals as well. One time, in third grade was a particular scary incident. I was sent via ambulance to the hospital from school. I became pretty attached to the hospital blanket given to me by one of the nurses as I waited for my parents to arrive. I took that blanket home with me and it was my security blanket for years. I finally got rid of it shortly after Kev and I married.

Blankets are a source of comfort. They are warm. They are cozy. You can wrap up in them and hide from the world. You can wrap up and hide your tears. You can wrap up and hope it protects you from the boogeyman...the ones that are real and the ones that are imagined.

Knowing how attached I've been to my blankets and knowing that all five of my children have several favorite blankets each, it's no wonder the project I'm about to share with you tugged my heart strings a little.

Kozy Kovers for Kids is a new orginization getting off the ground here in Delaware and I'm excited to tell you about it. You see, not only do I love my blankets and think it's adorable to see a little one with thumb in mouth and blanket gripped tight, but I have something else that tugs at my heart. It's a different sort of heart tug, but a tug none-the-less.

Orphans, both those that are sometimes referred to as "true orphans" living in orphanages often in third world countries, but those who are in foster care here in our country as well. Those of you that know us in real life know that I have a heart for orphans and many of you know that we are walking the road towards adoption (someday). Most of you also know that we were foster parents for a time several years ago.

Our journey towards adopting has been long and very slow and is currently on hold, but we often look for other ways we can make a difference. There are a lot of tangible things we can do like helping to support an orphanage, giving to another family to help them adopt, sponsor children through various organizations.

This past week, I found a way we can make a difference right here in Delaware.

*** I'm not interested in getting into a debate about whether it's more noble to give to "true orphans" than to give to kids in foster care. I also don't want to hear about all the wrongs of the fostercare system. None of that matters to the children that are scared, confused and without stability. I don't want to banter about semantics, so please, if you feel strongly about that blog about it on your own blog, don't clog mine up with it. Thanks.***

On any given day there are over a hundred kids in Delaware (many hundreds across the country) that are in need of a forever family. While they wait, they are in foster care. There are several hundred children each year that enter Delaware's foster care system (thousands across the country). Some of them eventually leading to adoption, others going back to their families, others staying in the system for many years.
Regardless to how the story ends, they all have the same basic beginning. By no choice or fault of their own, these precious children are thrust into a scary, difficult, confusing and often traumatic situation.

This is where blankets...and you come into the picture.

Kozy Kovers for Kids has a vision to make sure every child entering foster-care in Delaware is given a special, handmade blanket made just for them. What a great way to help these children find a tiny bit of comfort and security through such a tough time? What better way for us to be the "hands and feet of Jesus" than to make blankets that these little (and big) ones can wrap up in, cry into, a blanket they can find warmth, security and strength in, something they can call their own?

Would you consider helping Kozy Kovers for Kids show a little bit of love to these kids in foster care?

We can't all give money. We can't all adopt. We can't all do fostercare. We CAN all do something.

Here are the nitty gritty details...
You can knit, crochet, sew or even do those no sew fleece type blankets. They need all sorts of fabrics/colors/designs and sizes for the littlest ones all the way to teens. Just be sure they are handmade/homemade not storebought blankets. If you live in Delaware there are several drop off locations through out the state.

If you don't live in Delaware, I encourage you to see if your state has a similar program. Maybe you could even start one, if there isn't something already going near you.

Lastly, If you live in a different state, but want to make a blanket(s) to donate to Delaware's foster children, you can feel free to contact me for my address and I'd be more than willing to drop them off.

For more info, check out the Kozy Kovers for Kids website here.

(disclaimer: To my knowledge Kozy Kovers for Kids is not affiliated with any religion/doctrine/church, my use of the term "hands and feet of Jesus" is in relation to my own beliefs and is not an attempt to speak for Kozy Kovers for Kids. I am not a member of this organization or affiliated with it in any way. I simply found a flyer tucked into a library book, looked up the website and emailed back and forth with the contact person. I'm sharing here on my blog because I think it's a great idea.)

Overheard this morning

King Parker, dressed in his regal robes (that also double for superhero clothes) asks me for his sword.

I hand it to him. He says, "Thank you mommy highness".

Then, he turns to Aaron the scribe.

He holds out the sword and says,

"Here Aary, just pwease don't kill me."

"Okay, Parker. I promise not to kill you dead."

"well, don't kill me live eiver. If you kill me, me won't be your friend ever 'gain."

(WFMW) Let's eat cake!

I've wracked my brain for quite some time on how to make mornings a bit easier around here. It is often 10 or 11am by the time we have gotten up/dressed, prepared/eaten breakfast and then cleaned up. We get a good groove going with school and then it's time to start on lunch.

Since my kids have numerous, complicated food allergies/intolerances/issues meals are a less than simple affair around here. Nearly everything is made from scratch, which I realize a lot of people do, but it's not really "my thing". With all the other duties of the morning it just seems like it takes forever.

Something simple like oatmeal or storebought cold cereal just isn't an option. We've tried doing double and triple batches of pancakes, freezing the leftovers and then just pulling them out for quick breakfasts. The problem is doing even a quadruple batch doesn't provide enough for more than a couple of days...my kids are big eaters apparently. I also have one child that doesn't care much for pancakes or waffles. This child definately struggles to eat them when they are in the form of frozen then toasted leftovers. Since we deal with a lot of "issues" surrounding food, I choose to let the food battle slide most of the time and try to cater to their preferences when possible. Spending that much time for something that only lasts a few days and causes a showdown with one child just isn't worth it. That means I need a different solution.

Finally, after much trial and error, I think we've hit on well...a hit. A solution that is fairly quick, easy and everyone happily eats.

Cake for breakfast...every day. Yay, for cake!

Here's what really makes this work for us.

1. I have several different recipes and we rotate so no one gets sick of eating the same thing everyday. (doing this also keeps them from literally getting sick, but that's a different blogpost for a different day)

2. We double each recipe to make two 9x13 cakes. This means breakfast only has to be prepared every other day, as we eat one cake a day.

3. The cakes are baked the afternoon before one is needed. Tomorrow during chore time, Jerald will bake two cakes for Friday and Saturday mornings. It fits easily into the afternoon chores and there is no rush to get it done that morning.

4. Cake is easier than muffins/cupcakes because you don't have to worry about the tedious task of greasing individual muffin cups or cleaning muffin tins (using paper cups is wasteful and more expensive). It's much less time intensive to grease and wash a simple cake pan.

5.To round out the breakfast is rather easy. If it's a fruity type cake like pineapple upside down cake, than we just have a glass of milk to go with it. Otherwise, we alternate having strawberry smoothies or yogurt (homemade plain) with a dab of maple syrup and apple slices or occasionally another fruit. (we also use real butter instead of oil so that's more protein and a better fat, no crisco or veggie oil for us)

**I should note that we don't eat cake with icing unless it's for a special occasion. Even then it's a cream cheese icing with just a tiny bit of sugar or it's whipped cream made with heavy whipping cream and a tiny bit of sugar. So, I'm not talking about sugary, unhealthy storebought birthday cake for breakfast.

A Morning that requires little work in the kitchen works for me! Even if cake isn't your thing, maybe just preparing the day before would make your day easier. For more great tips and ideas, check out Works for Me Wednesday at Rocks In My Dryer (usually hosted at We Are That Family).

When life isn't fluffy

I've been thinking a lot lately about why I blog, who I blog for, what I blog about, etc. One thing that I've been thinking about is "realness". I've read several blogs and have seen numerous comments that talk about the need for realness. Some of the most popular blogs are the ones that are "real". What exactly does that mean? I think it holds different meaning for different people, but generally speaking it seems the blogs that share the good and the bad of life are the ones that are considered "real". I get that. In fact, some of my favorite blogs are that way.

Yet, I also think it's a balance that is hard to master. Sharing the bad without whining, I've read my share of whiney blogs and after a while it gets really old. On the flip side, you have the "sunshine" blogs that portray a perfect life with perfect kids and perfect spouses.
I don't want my blog in either of those camps. I don't want or need to whine and vent here. I have a few trusted people that offer their shoulders for me to cry on. In fact, I have a few that even let me blow my nose on their shirt once in a while (thanks Sharon and Donna). Yet, I don't want to only ever share the fluffy stuff of life as I'm apt to do. Life isn't always fluffy. Sometimes it's downright bumpy and hard. It's messy and it's sometimes dark and dreary.
Tonight has been hard. I'm sick and whiney. When I'm sick, I'm the biggest baby on the planet, I'm sure of it. My kids have been less than angelic all day. My husband cannot get home soon enough. As I type this, I have one child whining because daddy isn't home, another child whining because he's in pain. Still, another child is having an all out meltdown because he doesn't like the color of his bedsheet, didn't want his teeth brushed and most certainly did not want me to sing the toothbrushing song to him while I brushed his teeth. Another son is tantruming because his bad attitude cost him dessert. He is furious that I would dare expect him to eat a piece of candy that touched the ground. It doesn't matter to him that the WRAPPER and not the candy touched the ground. Nor does it matter to him that he isn't supposed to have said candy in the first place, but I caved because I get sick of not letting them eat treats. On top of all of that, another child is in his bed singing at the top of his lungs. He's trying to drown out all of the other noise of his siblings because he has noise issues and can't cope with it.
Sorry, but that really isn't the stuff I want to blog about. I'm fairly sure it's not what most of you want to read either.
I guess, my intent and focus on my blog is to share primarily the good, because it's what I want to share with others and what I want to keep record of when all is said and done. The bad stuff will fade away. Tomorrow, this will be over and we'll be on to new tantrums and noise issues, but amongst that will be the moments I want to savor forever and share with my readers.
Please don't think because I rarely mention otherwise, that my life is always fluffy or that I want you to think I live in Utopia.
My supermom cape is torn, tattered and a few sizes too big.
My superwife cape?
Well, I'm fairly sure I never owned one of those in the first place. If I did, I sure can't find it in the closet these days.
I'm not a homeschool expert, a gourmet chef, a seamstress or the super crafty type.
My husband, well he is near perfect in my eyes...he needs to be to put up with me, but even he has a few downfalls. I share them with him plenty enough, that I have no need to share them with you too.
As for my children. They are well, children. They have moments where they are wonderful, obedient, helpful, lovely little creatures and then moments when they are not. They didn't come with the "rules of life" book memorized and it takes much time and training and lots of re-doing and re-training to help them navigate this world appropriately. Just because I don't share much about their struggles, doesn't mean they don't have them.
I guess, mostly, I'm just trying to say remember when you read blogs, you are only reading part of the story. Even those that are "real" are only as real as they want to be and that isn't always an attempt to portray perfection or to give a woe is me pity party. Likely, it's just someone trying to master the balance and depending on their purpose for blogging it may swing more one way than the other.

Uncle Artie

Uncle Artie,

So much I could say about you. Out of all my aunts and uncles, I know you the best. I spent more time living in the same house with you than all of the others. You've been there through my best times and my worst. Do you know that when I moved back in with you, mom-mom and pop-pop during seventh grade that I used to tell the other kids you were my dad? I guess that wasn't too far from the truth in a lot of ways. Biologically speaking you are my uncle, but really you were one of the main "father figures" in my life for many many years. You protected me, loved me and put up with me with all of the patience and tenderness of a father...or at least most of the time.

The first (and only) time I ever went skiing was with you. When others in our group were frustrated with me, you were patient. If spending the money to only have me end up whining and refusing to ski bothered you, you never showed it. You just patiently led me to where I could spend the day, you checked on me every once in a while and then when we left you never mentioned it again.

I remember your motorcycle riding days well. You not having a girlfriend during that time was to my benefit, 'cause I got to be your riding partner a lot. I remember the time we were leaving the trailer park, I wiggled a little too much and you dropped the bike. You were furious. You took a deep breath, and calmly told me to sit still or I was not going to ride with you. Of course, you weren't so patient the second time it happened, but I still remember the first time and I'm glad you didn't scream at me and make me walk home.

I remember you willingness to always help me out and give up your stuff. In high school you would let me borrow your car sometimes. You didn't complain too much when I ate all of your peanut butter icecream or when I left my stuff all over your bathroom counter. You let me listen to your tapes and wear your t-shirts to bed. I remember when I was ready to come back to Delaware after three years away, you and Uncle Tom dropped everything to drive out and bring me back. My three years in South Dakota were in large part possible because of your financial contribution and that's something I'll never forget.

More than any other memories though, what stands out the most to me is your influence on my faith. I don't think you'll ever fully grasp just what it meant to me when you took me to the Creation festival, or the two trips to conferences in Indianapolis. You would let me tag along to various bible studies and activities with your church. When I look back, even my earliest faith memories are all tied to you in some way or another. It would be years later after much struggle and a lot of indulging in other things before I'd find my own faith. Yet, I can look back and see so many seeds planted by your willingness to let me tag along. Some of those experiences shaped me for good, others not so good, but it all played a part in who I am today.

Thank you Uncle Artie, for being a role model and father figure when I needed it, for putting up with me and letting me tag along with you for all those years. Most of all thank you for sharing Jesus with me.

I know the past few years have been very difficult ones for you. I know you've struggled in your faith and in most other areas of your life. My prayer for you is that 2010 will be a year of renewed faith and a year of peace...the kind of peace that can only come from the Prince of Peace.

Happy Happy Birthday, I hope it's been a great day for you!

I love you!

Aunt Sandy and Uncle Art 2010

Silly Family Fun...the stuff memories are made of

One of my favorite things in life is the "Saturday morning pile-up". It started with Jerald when he was just a toddler. One saturday morning, he came into our room at an hour much too early for a little boy to be awake. He climbed up onto the bed, jumped onto his daddy and said "Saturday pile-up, I'm gonna squash you like a bug". A tradition was born and many years later, still going strong. We even started our own version of the five little monkeys song and often enjoy singing that together. All of the kids love when daddy "squashes them like a bug" or when they get to be the "pieces of a sandwich".

What silly family fun makes up the memories your children will carry with them to adulthood?

If you have some great ones, either comment or do your own blog post (if you have a blog) to share. I'd love to hear about them!

If you really can't think of anything, then let me challenge you to start something. Your kids will forget many of the lectures, most of the meals, and some of the events of their childhood, but they will remember the little things. The fun and silly things. The stuff memories are made of and if they don't have that, well, they'll remember that as well.

Here's a picture from one of our "Saturday morning pile-ups" (shhh, don't tell, but I think this was actually a Sunday afternoon not a Saturday morning...but same concept)