April 30, 1998
My life changed.
Forever.
In those days, I worked as an assistant teacher at a daycare center. I loved my job, but that particular day had been "one of those days". I couldn't wait until it was time to leave. As soon as the last child went home, I jumped in my clunker and drove towards Kev's parents house. I was in a foul mood. I had little interest in seeing him that evening and really had preferred to go home and crash. I had no way to tell him that, these were the days before everyone had a cell phone in their pocket. I figured, I'd arrive pretty close to the same time that he did, have a few minutes together and then I'd go home.
That is not how the evening played out. At.All.
I arrived a bit before Kev and made small talk with his parents. Even with meds, allergies were flaring and getting worse by the minute. I was MISERABLE. Kev arrived, he talked me into staying for dinner.
At that time, I was mostly a vegan (with just a few, occasional exceptions) and his parents weren't quite sure what to feed me. I think they had a lovely roast/carrots/potatoes all cooked together...or something similar to that. In any case, I sat at my place munching on raw baby carrots while his family enjoyed their meal. I don't remember anything of the conversation, but I'm sure I thorougly impressed my future brother in law. I had to excuse myself mid conversation to blow my nose at least a hundred times. If I remember it right, each time I needed to get up, Rob had to move to let me pass him. After the first fifty times, I think we traded places.
After dinner, we were deciding our plans. In an attempt to cause Kev's mood to match mine, I not so nicely suggested he change his shirt. He was wearing one that was a favorite of his. One that I loathed.
He ignored me.
He suggested we go to a local park, a spot we had often enjoyed together. He grabbed some bread and said we could feed the ducks a bit. We got there and the mosquitos were horrendous. I whined and complained and completely ruined any chance of it being the "picture perfect" romantic evening he was envisioning.
He ignored me.
Next, he suggested we go to a then favorite place for icecream.
Seriously? Icecream? when I am so stuffed up, hacking, coughing, wheezing. Please, get a clue, Kev. Yes, I shamefully admit, I was nasty again.
He ignored me. We went anyway.
Ever the optimist, he was quiet on the way home, figuring out a plan to redeem the moment.
Ever the immature snot, I was quiet on the way home too. I was giving him the silent treatment and planning to leave the moment my car was in sight.
In one last attempt to accomplish his mission for the night, Kev suggested a nice walk through the neighborhood. We had spent many hours walking those streets, sharing our hurts and hopes and dreams with each other. In his mind, it was the perfect way to end such an awful evening.
I reminded him that my allergies were flared, I was tired, miserable (as if he needed to be reminded) and that the last thing I wanted to do was walk around the neighborhood breathing in more pollen.
He ignored me. He grabbed my hand and started to walk.
At this point, I was M-I-S-E-R-A-B-L-E times ten and he was exasperated to the nth degree.
I did not understand why he wouldn't just say goodnight and let me go home. He was beyond frustrated that I had trashed every idea and plan he had for the night. We walked in silence.
We got back to his house, I think I did finally manage a curt apology for being so nasty all evening, then I said goodnight, jumped in my car and left.
He followed me.
Can you believe this?
I had treated him horribly all evening.
I had ruined every attempt he made to make me smile.
I had tried to pull him down.
I hadn't given one moment of thought to his feelings.
Yet, he was not giving up.
I got out of my car, gave him an angry glance then stomped upstairs to my bedroom. He followed me to my room and sat on my floor. I told him it would be a long, cold night on the floor and that he might as well go home because I wasn't interested in talking to him.
Then I turned off the light, got under my covers and ignored him.
I'm not sure how long we sat there in silence.
Then he turned the light on in my face. I got up and started yet another tirade. He told me to shut up and sit down. (or something equally stern)
Very uncharacteristic of Kev. Even in my immaturity and nastiness, I knew that I had better listen.
I sat on my bed.
Crossed arms.
Pursed lips.
I'm sure I looked pretty much like a defiant two year old.
He knelt on the floor next to me.
He grabbed my hands in his.
He prayed for me to get relief from my allergies. He prayed for our relationship.
My heart melted and I felt horrible for how I had treated him all night.
Then he reached his hand into the pocket of that ugly shirt.
He pulled out a ring.
I can't remember exactly what he said. I don't think it was "will you marry me?"
I think it was more something like, "how would you like a shorter last name?"
After the evening we had it should have been something like "You totally do not deserve this and I'm probably setting myself up for a lifetime of misery, but how about we get married and spend the rest of our lives together?"
The question doesn't matter really.
What matters is that I said Yes.
What matters even more
is
that
12 yrs later,
I
still
say
YES!!!
I love you, Kev.
Thank you for not just tolerating me...
but for loving me, serving me, leading me, cherishing me, challenging me, confronting me, praying for me, holding me, protecting me and believing in me.
Time and time and time again you continue to be an example of what it means for a husband to love his wife "just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her."
Happy Anniversary of the most unromantic proposal to the most clueless and undeserving girl ever! (To clear up some confusion for a few people...this is the anniversary of Kev's proposal. Our actual wedding anniversary in July 31st)
**In my defense: A)I've grown and changed a LOT since those days, B)that was one of our worst nights ever. I wasn't quite that rude, immature, snotty most of the time and C) I am always more miserable April-mid June every year due to not feeling well/dealing with horrible allergies. Definately not my best time of year.**
Friday, April 30, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Happy Birthday, Mom!
Once upon a time, in a town not too far from here, there was a young girl about to be thrust into the world of motherhood.
It was your 17th birthday. Unbeknownst to you, in exactly a month you'd be a mother.
I've often wondered what that time was like for you. I'm sure you were scared...clueless...not ready.
Then you gave birth to a preemie and the man you thought you'd share your life with, the father of your baby, left and never returned.
How devestating, life changing, and scary that must have been for you.
Yet, you preservered.
I imagine through your own resolve and the support of your parents you pushed on. I, of course, have no memory of that time, but I know the few stories I've been told. I've heard how sick I was, and I know that asthma/allergies/breathing issues continued through out my childhood, often landing me in the Hotel de Hospital for days, even a week at a time.
A year later, you married and by 21 you were mommy to three children. Difficulties in life continued to surround you. You made the best choices you knew how. Sometimes good ones, sometimes not so good.
I've already shared in other posts that my childhood memories are often ones of chaos, drama, difficulties. I'd be lying if I did a birthday post that painted our relationship as always roses and gumdrops. It wasn't.
There were years you were all I had and others when you weren't in my life much. Times when we laughed and cried together and supported each other. Other times you did everything you knew how to help a hurting and angry teen only to be the one that took the brunt of my anger and violence. There were times when you were my hero and times when I hated you.
While my childhood might not be a nice rosy picture of a girl and her lovely mother, much has changed in the last 15yrs or so.
We've both grown, changed, matured. We've learned that the power of love is stronger than the difficulties we encountered.
We've learned the bond of a mother and her child can be rebuilt when life's circumstances attempt to destroy it...our relationship is a living testimony of that.
Today is a very different story than the one that began all those years ago. I'm sure when you look back at that 17th birthday, the hopes and dreams you carried have played out very very differently than you ever imagined.
It's often been a hard journey, but it's your journey. It's one of heartache, heartbreak and brokenness. It's also one of restoration, second chances, and love.
Over the past several years, I've had people make comments about how we seem to have such a close relationship. Some have expressed longing, a hope that their relationship with their mother was nearly as strong. Some have assumed it's always been this way and that I must have been one of those people with a "perfect" childhood. I always walk away from those conversations thinking, "if only you knew".
If only they knew our story...
If only they knew that we are where we are because we overcame, pressed on and mended fences...
If only they knew the tears and struggles that brought us here...
If only they knew God is in the business of relationship restoration.
Today, you are one of my best friends. I talk to you daily, sometimes more than once a day. When I have news to share, you are in line only behind Kevin. When I need a shoulder to cry on, you are there. You weep with me, you laugh with me, you encourage me.
Many of my childhood memories might not be the best, but my adulthood ones more than make up for it.
When Jerald was born, you were there. It was a special moment between Kev and I, but also between the two of us.
I felt in that moment, our relationship had come full circle. Grandparenting has been a second chance, for both of us. It has been the bridge to much healing, a chance to enjoy things together, a chance to replace difficult memories with joyous ones.
You might not have ever won a "Mother of the Year" award, but I'm pretty sure that you are most definately worthy of "Nana of the Century".
No amount of words on a blog post will ever be enough to express just how much you mean to me.
I love you, Mom. I'm glad you are in my life. I'm glad God has allowed us to overcome and rebuild our relationship. I'm glad you aren't just my mom, but that you are my friend.
I hope this was your best birthday yet!
It was your 17th birthday. Unbeknownst to you, in exactly a month you'd be a mother.
I've often wondered what that time was like for you. I'm sure you were scared...clueless...not ready.
Then you gave birth to a preemie and the man you thought you'd share your life with, the father of your baby, left and never returned.
How devestating, life changing, and scary that must have been for you.
Yet, you preservered.
I imagine through your own resolve and the support of your parents you pushed on. I, of course, have no memory of that time, but I know the few stories I've been told. I've heard how sick I was, and I know that asthma/allergies/breathing issues continued through out my childhood, often landing me in the Hotel de Hospital for days, even a week at a time.
A year later, you married and by 21 you were mommy to three children. Difficulties in life continued to surround you. You made the best choices you knew how. Sometimes good ones, sometimes not so good.
I've already shared in other posts that my childhood memories are often ones of chaos, drama, difficulties. I'd be lying if I did a birthday post that painted our relationship as always roses and gumdrops. It wasn't.
There were years you were all I had and others when you weren't in my life much. Times when we laughed and cried together and supported each other. Other times you did everything you knew how to help a hurting and angry teen only to be the one that took the brunt of my anger and violence. There were times when you were my hero and times when I hated you.
While my childhood might not be a nice rosy picture of a girl and her lovely mother, much has changed in the last 15yrs or so.
We've both grown, changed, matured. We've learned that the power of love is stronger than the difficulties we encountered.
We've learned the bond of a mother and her child can be rebuilt when life's circumstances attempt to destroy it...our relationship is a living testimony of that.
Today is a very different story than the one that began all those years ago. I'm sure when you look back at that 17th birthday, the hopes and dreams you carried have played out very very differently than you ever imagined.
It's often been a hard journey, but it's your journey. It's one of heartache, heartbreak and brokenness. It's also one of restoration, second chances, and love.
Over the past several years, I've had people make comments about how we seem to have such a close relationship. Some have expressed longing, a hope that their relationship with their mother was nearly as strong. Some have assumed it's always been this way and that I must have been one of those people with a "perfect" childhood. I always walk away from those conversations thinking, "if only you knew".
If only they knew our story...
If only they knew that we are where we are because we overcame, pressed on and mended fences...
If only they knew the tears and struggles that brought us here...
If only they knew God is in the business of relationship restoration.
Today, you are one of my best friends. I talk to you daily, sometimes more than once a day. When I have news to share, you are in line only behind Kevin. When I need a shoulder to cry on, you are there. You weep with me, you laugh with me, you encourage me.
Many of my childhood memories might not be the best, but my adulthood ones more than make up for it.
When Jerald was born, you were there. It was a special moment between Kev and I, but also between the two of us.
I felt in that moment, our relationship had come full circle. Grandparenting has been a second chance, for both of us. It has been the bridge to much healing, a chance to enjoy things together, a chance to replace difficult memories with joyous ones.
You might not have ever won a "Mother of the Year" award, but I'm pretty sure that you are most definately worthy of "Nana of the Century".
No amount of words on a blog post will ever be enough to express just how much you mean to me.
I love you, Mom. I'm glad you are in my life. I'm glad God has allowed us to overcome and rebuild our relationship. I'm glad you aren't just my mom, but that you are my friend.
I hope this was your best birthday yet!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Remembering my brother (partial repost)
I hadn't planned on posting today. Life goes on and I don't want my blog to be a depressing memorial where I mark every death anniversary of every loved one I've lost. Yet, somehow it seemed necessary for me to post something today. I don't always feel that way. It's been six years since Aaron died and I think I've only "marked" the anniversary with a blog post once. Anyways, for whatever reason I needed to post today.
Not sure what to say.
It's hard.
I miss him.
I wish things were different.
They aren't.
God's plans aren't mine.
I'm thankful for the time I did have with him.
Twenty-two years wasn't near long enough, yet I'm glad we had 22yrs.
I made this photo montage and wrote this poem in 2008. It still expresses my heart now two years later and with one more niece added in the mix, so I thought I'd share it again.
To my friends, thank you for your love and support...those that walked through it with me then and those that continue to pray for me when it's hard.
To my family, I love you. I know you all miss him as well. I pray that each of you can have the peace and hope of knowing the end doesn't have to be the end if we have Christ.
How Can It Be?
Today I rejoice and today I weep,
two opposite emotions and yet both run so deep.
both fill my heart, my mind, my every breath,
I daily grapple to understand your death.
I long to see your face and feel your touch,
to hear your laughter and tell you "I love you much"
Little brother, Aaron Lee
how has it been four years since you stepped into eternity?
You sit at the throne of a Holy King,
happy, whole and no more suffering.
Yet for those of us you left behind,
well as for us, you are always on our minds.
Little brother, Aaron Lee
how has it been four years since you stepped into eternity?
I know the reason is much bigger than I can comprehend,
I know your earthly death was really not the end.
Forever you will worship the Lord Most High,
Forever you will live, never to die.
Little brother, Aaron Lee
how has it been four years since you stepped into eternity?
I remember still when I received the call,
before Kev answered, I began to bawl.
I knew the words I was soon to hear,
I knew it was the end of something I held so dear.
Little brother, Aaron Lee,
how has it been four years since you stepped into eternity?
Four years ago, I stood in your hospital room,
four years ago, there was a little one being knit in my womb.
He never met you that is true,
but four years later he daily talks of you.
He says, "Uncle Aaron, he's my guy. He has a red truck and I'm going to heaven for a ride"
Someday he will understand that if you were here, he would be your joy and pride.
I'll never forget the time you first held Jay,
I remember you couldn't wait until he was big enough to play.
I can still hear you whisper "this Uncle stuff is the best"as you pulled Rock in close to snuggle your chest.
Nieces and Nephews, now there are eleven
it is my hope that someday,they will all meet you in heaven.
Little brother, Aaron Lee,
how can it be four years since you stepped into eternity?
Right now you are a part of our daily conversation,
the day I see you again is one I look forward to with great anticipation.
How wonderful will it be my little brother Aaron Lee,
when we together Worship our Savior for all eternity.
Not sure what to say.
It's hard.
I miss him.
I wish things were different.
They aren't.
God's plans aren't mine.
I'm thankful for the time I did have with him.
Twenty-two years wasn't near long enough, yet I'm glad we had 22yrs.
I made this photo montage and wrote this poem in 2008. It still expresses my heart now two years later and with one more niece added in the mix, so I thought I'd share it again.
To my friends, thank you for your love and support...those that walked through it with me then and those that continue to pray for me when it's hard.
To my family, I love you. I know you all miss him as well. I pray that each of you can have the peace and hope of knowing the end doesn't have to be the end if we have Christ.
How Can It Be?
Today I rejoice and today I weep,
two opposite emotions and yet both run so deep.
both fill my heart, my mind, my every breath,
I daily grapple to understand your death.
I long to see your face and feel your touch,
to hear your laughter and tell you "I love you much"
Little brother, Aaron Lee
how has it been four years since you stepped into eternity?
You sit at the throne of a Holy King,
happy, whole and no more suffering.
Yet for those of us you left behind,
well as for us, you are always on our minds.
Little brother, Aaron Lee
how has it been four years since you stepped into eternity?
I know the reason is much bigger than I can comprehend,
I know your earthly death was really not the end.
Forever you will worship the Lord Most High,
Forever you will live, never to die.
Little brother, Aaron Lee
how has it been four years since you stepped into eternity?
I remember still when I received the call,
before Kev answered, I began to bawl.
I knew the words I was soon to hear,
I knew it was the end of something I held so dear.
Little brother, Aaron Lee,
how has it been four years since you stepped into eternity?
Four years ago, I stood in your hospital room,
four years ago, there was a little one being knit in my womb.
He never met you that is true,
but four years later he daily talks of you.
He says, "Uncle Aaron, he's my guy. He has a red truck and I'm going to heaven for a ride"
Someday he will understand that if you were here, he would be your joy and pride.
I'll never forget the time you first held Jay,
I remember you couldn't wait until he was big enough to play.
I can still hear you whisper "this Uncle stuff is the best"as you pulled Rock in close to snuggle your chest.
Nieces and Nephews, now there are eleven
it is my hope that someday,they will all meet you in heaven.
Little brother, Aaron Lee,
how can it be four years since you stepped into eternity?
Right now you are a part of our daily conversation,
the day I see you again is one I look forward to with great anticipation.
How wonderful will it be my little brother Aaron Lee,
when we together Worship our Savior for all eternity.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Focus
Do you ever lose your focus?
Do you ever find yourself in the pit of the "what ifs"?
Do you ever have days when you think what you're doing is less important than something else?
No?
Good for you.
Quit reading my blog.
I don't have those moments often to be honest. I really do love my life about 99.9 percent of the time. I really do try to find joy, growth, lessons in even the yuckiest of moments.
However, once in a while I lose my focus. I look behind me and see all the dreams I've dropped along the way. I start to follow the breadcrumb trail of "what if I had made different choices".
You would think by now, I would have learned my lesson that the breadcrumb trail only leads to an empty plate, not the big banquet meal I always hope to find. I do know this and I remember it most of the time. Other times, my hunger gets the best of me and I try once again to find that delicious cuisine of "what I could have been".
Last night was one of those moments for me.
These moments are never easy to work through... to find focus again...to face selfishness and pride and rebellion in my heart...to remind myself that letting go, doesn't mean my life is less or that all of those dreams are gone. It might mean they are on a shelf for now, to be dusted off some other time. It might mean they are gone forever, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing.
It is in these moments, when I so clearly see the truth that God has a plan for my life (Jeremiah 29), that my ways are not always His (Isaiah 55) and that He desires me to have life and life more abundantly (John 10). I don't always understand that. I certainly don't always like that. In the end though, I believe it to be true so I turn my eyes back to what is before me instead of glancing in the rearview mirror.
Last night, I once again let go of the things that I had begin to hold onto much too fiercely. It was painful. Staring down your own ugliness...pride, arrogance, desire to have your way is no easy thing. I allowed myself to wallow a bit. I spouted off all the things that currently dissatisfy, frustrate and disappoint me. Then I stormed off to the shower and cried like a baby while I prayed for a new perspective.
I want to see with new eyes. I want to be reminded that this job of motherhood is far greater than I can ever imagine. If I do it well, or if I fail either way it will change the world. My children are part of the future and how I raise them does matter. I want to embrace again this duty of wife and remember that it isn't drudgery, but that it's a gift. So many people are alone in this world and I have been given one of the greatest men in the world to be my partner.
More than anything, I want to remember that I didn't put *my* dreams aside to get stuck doing these other things. No, I want to remember that these other things are *my* dreams. Yes, I still want to be a doctor. Yes, I'd love to be in Africa. No, not doing those doesn't mean I'm stuck doing and being less than I aspire, less than I'm capable. It simply means that I am following different dreams, but they are still mine.
Parker slept well for a change, I did not. I was up reading for several hours in the night. At 3am, a groggy, half asleep, sweaty little guy stumbled out to the family room and said "why you up? Don't you wanna snuggle wif me all night?"
Of course I do. There's nothing better. He was back to sleep in about two minutes. Me? Well, I snuggled up to him and watched him breathe for an hour as tears of thankfulness and a love so deep I cannot comprehend rolled down my cheeks.
I remember falling asleep an hour or so later, my last coherent thought being "can it really get any better than this?"
A few hours later, I was awakened to Kev's alarm, a whining dog, and snoring little ones. The answer to my question? Yes it gets better.
I went to sleep snuggled up to one sweaty little guy and woke up squished between two of them. Parker's first words of the morning were, "come close for a minute, I want a kiss". I leaned towards him, eyes still closed...not really awake and instead of a kiss, I was met with raspberries blown on my cheek and the hysterical laughter of an ornery three year old. Next came the sleepy words from behind me, "Mommy turn this way to snuggle with me". I turned over to face my Zigity zoo, a child that gives love more freely than any kid I've ever met. He grabbed my face in his hands, kissed my nose and said "now lets go back to sleep".
So this morning...this morning, I've got my glasses on again. I can see clearly and I'm moving ahead.
There is nothing...nothing...nothing greater than the unconditional love and constant joy I find in these little people, in being their mama or in being married to their daddy...one of the most humble, gracious, forgiving, loving men I've ever met.
Thank you Lord for this life and the grandiosity of the little things, for it is the little things that matter most.
Do you ever find yourself in the pit of the "what ifs"?
Do you ever have days when you think what you're doing is less important than something else?
No?
Good for you.
Quit reading my blog.
I don't have those moments often to be honest. I really do love my life about 99.9 percent of the time. I really do try to find joy, growth, lessons in even the yuckiest of moments.
However, once in a while I lose my focus. I look behind me and see all the dreams I've dropped along the way. I start to follow the breadcrumb trail of "what if I had made different choices".
You would think by now, I would have learned my lesson that the breadcrumb trail only leads to an empty plate, not the big banquet meal I always hope to find. I do know this and I remember it most of the time. Other times, my hunger gets the best of me and I try once again to find that delicious cuisine of "what I could have been".
Last night was one of those moments for me.
These moments are never easy to work through... to find focus again...to face selfishness and pride and rebellion in my heart...to remind myself that letting go, doesn't mean my life is less or that all of those dreams are gone. It might mean they are on a shelf for now, to be dusted off some other time. It might mean they are gone forever, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing.
It is in these moments, when I so clearly see the truth that God has a plan for my life (Jeremiah 29), that my ways are not always His (Isaiah 55) and that He desires me to have life and life more abundantly (John 10). I don't always understand that. I certainly don't always like that. In the end though, I believe it to be true so I turn my eyes back to what is before me instead of glancing in the rearview mirror.
Last night, I once again let go of the things that I had begin to hold onto much too fiercely. It was painful. Staring down your own ugliness...pride, arrogance, desire to have your way is no easy thing. I allowed myself to wallow a bit. I spouted off all the things that currently dissatisfy, frustrate and disappoint me. Then I stormed off to the shower and cried like a baby while I prayed for a new perspective.
I want to see with new eyes. I want to be reminded that this job of motherhood is far greater than I can ever imagine. If I do it well, or if I fail either way it will change the world. My children are part of the future and how I raise them does matter. I want to embrace again this duty of wife and remember that it isn't drudgery, but that it's a gift. So many people are alone in this world and I have been given one of the greatest men in the world to be my partner.
More than anything, I want to remember that I didn't put *my* dreams aside to get stuck doing these other things. No, I want to remember that these other things are *my* dreams. Yes, I still want to be a doctor. Yes, I'd love to be in Africa. No, not doing those doesn't mean I'm stuck doing and being less than I aspire, less than I'm capable. It simply means that I am following different dreams, but they are still mine.
Parker slept well for a change, I did not. I was up reading for several hours in the night. At 3am, a groggy, half asleep, sweaty little guy stumbled out to the family room and said "why you up? Don't you wanna snuggle wif me all night?"
Of course I do. There's nothing better. He was back to sleep in about two minutes. Me? Well, I snuggled up to him and watched him breathe for an hour as tears of thankfulness and a love so deep I cannot comprehend rolled down my cheeks.
I remember falling asleep an hour or so later, my last coherent thought being "can it really get any better than this?"
A few hours later, I was awakened to Kev's alarm, a whining dog, and snoring little ones. The answer to my question? Yes it gets better.
I went to sleep snuggled up to one sweaty little guy and woke up squished between two of them. Parker's first words of the morning were, "come close for a minute, I want a kiss". I leaned towards him, eyes still closed...not really awake and instead of a kiss, I was met with raspberries blown on my cheek and the hysterical laughter of an ornery three year old. Next came the sleepy words from behind me, "Mommy turn this way to snuggle with me". I turned over to face my Zigity zoo, a child that gives love more freely than any kid I've ever met. He grabbed my face in his hands, kissed my nose and said "now lets go back to sleep".
So this morning...this morning, I've got my glasses on again. I can see clearly and I'm moving ahead.
There is nothing...nothing...nothing greater than the unconditional love and constant joy I find in these little people, in being their mama or in being married to their daddy...one of the most humble, gracious, forgiving, loving men I've ever met.
Thank you Lord for this life and the grandiosity of the little things, for it is the little things that matter most.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Spring Soccer
Until now, we have always done soccer in the Fall instead of the Spring. Kev's Spring schedule makes it difficult to keep up with several practices and games a week. However, doing football and soccer this past fall was a bit crazy. We were out of the house four evenings a week and every Saturday all day. We thought splitting up and doing football in the fall/soccer in the Spring might be a better idea.
We recently learned of a newer soccer league that had set game times on Saturdays and no practices during the week. This would be perfect for us, we thought. It only goes to age 8, so it's just Mag and Aaron playing (Parker didn't want to play). It's about ten minutes further to drive, but we don't have to worry about burning up the whole day each week and no midweek practices, woo hoo! Today was opening day and they had a great time. An added bonus is that my nephew is also playing. Aaron and Brendyn are on the same team, which means I get to see my brother and nephew every week. I'm very excited about that, we don't see them nearly enough!
It was hard to get pictures, but here are a few. I'm going to try for more/closer/better ones next week.
Parker hiding in Grampie's coat. It was a bit chilly out there.
My brother Michael and nephew Brendyn...
We recently learned of a newer soccer league that had set game times on Saturdays and no practices during the week. This would be perfect for us, we thought. It only goes to age 8, so it's just Mag and Aaron playing (Parker didn't want to play). It's about ten minutes further to drive, but we don't have to worry about burning up the whole day each week and no midweek practices, woo hoo! Today was opening day and they had a great time. An added bonus is that my nephew is also playing. Aaron and Brendyn are on the same team, which means I get to see my brother and nephew every week. I'm very excited about that, we don't see them nearly enough!
It was hard to get pictures, but here are a few. I'm going to try for more/closer/better ones next week.
Mag the goalie...
Aaron and Brendyn workin' hard...
Parker hiding in Grampie's coat. It was a bit chilly out there.
My brother Michael and nephew Brendyn...
recent quotables
Those who are on facebook have likely read most of these already. I decided to post them here because a few of you aren't on facebook...
1.
Conversation with Aaron...this isn't verbatim, as it was a few weeks ago. It went something like this:
Aaron: I really like that one guy.
Me: What one guy?
Aaron: You know the one that's always with Uncle Michael.
Me: going through a mental checklist of Uncle Michael's friends...We don't see him much and I'm not recalling Aaron meeting any of the friends I know.
Aaron: Don't you know which guy I'm talking about?
Me: Nope. What does he look like?
Aaron: You know, he's the little guy with glasses. He is ALWAYS with Uncle Michael.
Me: Oh, you mean Brendyn?
Aaron: Yeah, that guy. Brendyn. I like him.
I'm thinking, Aaron needs to be around his cousin Brendyn a bit more.
2.
Rocklin, Jerald and Magdalyn all have loose teeth. At dinner recently they were discussing loose teeth, the dentist, etc. As an aside, Jerald LOVES going to the dentist. I've never met a kid that loves it, but he does. I also was quite surprised, we really thought because of his issues with noise, etc he'd hate it. I spent weeks preparing him for his first visit only to have him come home (Kev took him) and excitedly tell me how much he enjoyed it.
So, back to the recent conversation. Rocklin mentioned he doesn't like having loose teeth because they feel weird/hurt before they come out. Magdalyn said "I love losing my teeth...everytime one comes out, I'm gettin' closer to my twenties." Not a perspective I've ever pondered before.
3.
Aaron in an attempt to get out of morning chores..."I'm so tired and the day hasn't even started yet."
4.
Parker: Can we sing "Parker's Herald Angels Sing?"
Me: Um, do you mean, "Hark the Herald Angels Sing"?
Parker: Yeah dat one.
5.
Parker: "Mommy, my face stinks"
He meant that he smells something stinky (Aaron's feet because they were playing and Aaron put his feet in Parker's face)
6.
Jerald has always said the word "ugh" as Ugg. Drives me insane, but it's how he says it. Now, his siblings are starting to do the same thing. Last night one of them said "Ugg" and another said "there's no such word, it's Ugh". Thus began a discussion on which was correct, etc. After several minutes I stepped in and said, "Ugh" is when you are frustrated with something like just now when you lost your game. "Ugg" is the brand name of a boot, Ugg boots. Everyone goes back to their activities (the wii with daddy or a puzzle with mommy). After several minutes, Jerald says "UGG" when he loses a game. Parker pats him on the shoulder and says "You are a boot Jay". Jerald says "what????" and Parker said "Ugg is a boot and you said Ugg, so you is a boot". Not exactly how I envisioned us learning vocabulary, but if it works...
*(yes, I know that Uggg is actually a slang term often used especially in texting/instant messaging, etc to mean bored or not knowing what else to say. We don't use much slang though and I'm not teaching that one to the rebels.)
1.
Conversation with Aaron...this isn't verbatim, as it was a few weeks ago. It went something like this:
Aaron: I really like that one guy.
Me: What one guy?
Aaron: You know the one that's always with Uncle Michael.
Me: going through a mental checklist of Uncle Michael's friends...We don't see him much and I'm not recalling Aaron meeting any of the friends I know.
Aaron: Don't you know which guy I'm talking about?
Me: Nope. What does he look like?
Aaron: You know, he's the little guy with glasses. He is ALWAYS with Uncle Michael.
Me: Oh, you mean Brendyn?
Aaron: Yeah, that guy. Brendyn. I like him.
I'm thinking, Aaron needs to be around his cousin Brendyn a bit more.
2.
Rocklin, Jerald and Magdalyn all have loose teeth. At dinner recently they were discussing loose teeth, the dentist, etc. As an aside, Jerald LOVES going to the dentist. I've never met a kid that loves it, but he does. I also was quite surprised, we really thought because of his issues with noise, etc he'd hate it. I spent weeks preparing him for his first visit only to have him come home (Kev took him) and excitedly tell me how much he enjoyed it.
So, back to the recent conversation. Rocklin mentioned he doesn't like having loose teeth because they feel weird/hurt before they come out. Magdalyn said "I love losing my teeth...everytime one comes out, I'm gettin' closer to my twenties." Not a perspective I've ever pondered before.
3.
Aaron in an attempt to get out of morning chores..."I'm so tired and the day hasn't even started yet."
4.
Parker: Can we sing "Parker's Herald Angels Sing?"
Me: Um, do you mean, "Hark the Herald Angels Sing"?
Parker: Yeah dat one.
5.
Parker: "Mommy, my face stinks"
He meant that he smells something stinky (Aaron's feet because they were playing and Aaron put his feet in Parker's face)
6.
Jerald has always said the word "ugh" as Ugg. Drives me insane, but it's how he says it. Now, his siblings are starting to do the same thing. Last night one of them said "Ugg" and another said "there's no such word, it's Ugh". Thus began a discussion on which was correct, etc. After several minutes I stepped in and said, "Ugh" is when you are frustrated with something like just now when you lost your game. "Ugg" is the brand name of a boot, Ugg boots. Everyone goes back to their activities (the wii with daddy or a puzzle with mommy). After several minutes, Jerald says "UGG" when he loses a game. Parker pats him on the shoulder and says "You are a boot Jay". Jerald says "what????" and Parker said "Ugg is a boot and you said Ugg, so you is a boot". Not exactly how I envisioned us learning vocabulary, but if it works...
*(yes, I know that Uggg is actually a slang term often used especially in texting/instant messaging, etc to mean bored or not knowing what else to say. We don't use much slang though and I'm not teaching that one to the rebels.)
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Wordless Wednesday...
...or how the little rebels enjoy the early afternoon.
(he was happily "reading" until I got out the camera)
(don't want to share the couch? make your own with chairs/pillows/blankets)
check out other wordless wednesday posts at 5minutes for mom.
(he was happily "reading" until I got out the camera)
(don't want to share the couch? make your own with chairs/pillows/blankets)
check out other wordless wednesday posts at 5minutes for mom.
Monday, April 5, 2010
He is Risen!!
Yes I know the celebration was yesterday...we were busy celebrating so I didn't have time to blog.
As has been mentioned in a couple of recent posts, my dad died around Easter many years ago, and then my brother became ill/died around Easter, so it's a difficult time of year for me. I struggle to enjoy all the fun things and often lose my focus when trying to be mindful of what it really means.
I try, but fall so short of comprehending that not only was Jesus born a babe in a manger, but the story didn't end there. He was crucified, but it didn't end there. He was buried, but it didn't end there. He conquered death, hell and the grave and rose again. It doesn't end there either...the story doesn't end. He reigns victorious, we are offered life eternal and life in abundance, then when our story of life ends it really is just the beginning. That's what Easter is about. Egg hunts, new clothes and chocolate are fun and wonderful (especially the chocolate), but celebrating that Christ is alive and that through Him we have the power to live an abundant, amazing life here and in eternity....that is overwhelming, incomprehensible, wonderfulness beyond wonderful!
We started the day with an earlier than usual church service, that was a bit interesting trying to get everyone out the door on time. Jerald and Magdalyn were part of a children's choir and opened the service singing a song called Roman's Doxology. They also learned to do the chorus in sign language. The choir was for 1st-6th graders, with only three practices to learn the song and the signs, they all did a fantastic job!
My parents, ever looking for opportunity to be with their grandkids, made the trek down and went to church with us. That's always a treat, thanks Nana and Grampie!
After church, we went to the home of one of our pastors for lunch and fellowship. There were several families and many children (just under 30 I think?) and great fun for everyone! My children played so long and so hard, that Parker slept from 9:00pm until 7:30 am only waking once for an hour. Woo hoo!
Finally arriving home at 9:30 PM, we were all ready to crash...a very busy, but very blessed day!
Now to live everyday celebrating the Ressurection and keeping focused on what really matters instead of the trivial things of life.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Aunt Terri
Happy Birthday, Aunt Terri!
Writing these letters has been harder than I thought it would be. Digging up memories of things long since buried in my mind and heart. Thinking on things with a different perspective. The perspective of a thirty-something wife, and mother that has a lot of "life baggage" is very very different than the perspective I had while going through those times of gathering the baggage.
I have a lot of memories of time spent with you. My favorite one was one day when we went shopping. Well, I'm sure there were lots of shopping trips, but this particular day was different from any other that I remember. Michael was a baby, he must have been just a couple of months old...I remember it being cold weather, because I was wearing that ugly blue/white faux sheepskin coat that I hated so much. Anyways, do you know where this is going? Do you remember this story?
You and mom worked on getting us kids all bundled up. Tam and I got our coats on and you took us out to the car. Mom comes out and gets Amy in the car. Off we go. Tam and I are giggling and talking and you both keep telling us to quiet down. We get almost out of the trailer park when one of you finally realizes what we are saying. Michael. Where's Michael? Mom thought you brought him out, you thought mom brought him out, we girls thought the whole thing was quite funny. Michael, well, I'm not sure he really cared at the time. He was safe and sound in the living room, waiting for his mama or his aunt to realize he'd been forgotten.
I have other memories, catching fireflies on hot summer days when you lived in Smyrna. Getting icecream at the Lewes Dairy Mart. I mostly remember a lot of time just playing and being with Tam, my first BFF (best friend forever for those that need clarification). I guess in my mind you were just around by default, 'cause Tam was the important one in my life back then. :-)
As I sift through it all, one thing stands out more than any other. Not then. I'm sure I didn't have a clue back then. Now though? Now, I see so clearly what you have done for me and the influence you have had on my life.
All of the fun memories, cute stories, outings, gifts pale in comparison. It all fades away when I focus on the bigger picture. I was a kid. To this day I still don't know all of the details. I don't know how the situation came about, who made the choices. I just know that during what was probably the single most difficult year of my childhood you were there.
You know the story of my childhood. I don't need to rehash details and share dirty laundry, but you know that I was a difficult child, an angry child, a confused child. That was all before my dad died. Then, he died and my mom was on another continent, it all became magnified I'm sure. So there I was, eleven soon to be twelve years old. On the cusp of adolescence and already having gone through more than many adults ever will understand. You took me into your home and you loved me through it all.
That was a tough year for all of us. Having a house built, having your mother in law move in, having your niece move in...apparently you were trying to make yourself go crazy. I'm sure I'll never know what that was like for Tam. She was an only child with a pretty decent, albeit not perfect, childhood and now she had to share her parents, her grandma, her friends, her clothes, her bathroom, and her home with me.
I have a lot of memories from that year. Many of them difficult, negative memories I'd rather forget. Things that are hard to face even today. As I face them and consider them and of course over analyze them 'cause I'm good at that, something emerges from those ashes.
Comfort.
Hope.
Love.
It wasn't a perfect year. Tam and I fought and to be honest our relationship was never the same after that year. I'm sure you had plenty of moments you wanted to wring my neck or ship me back to my mother, or both. I know I didn't make anything easy, I was a picky eater, a lousy sleeper, a moody, miserable child. Still you were there, sacrificially pouring out...
Comfort.
Hope.
Love.
I'm sure there were many times like this one, but I remember one night in particular being very hard for me. I had talked on the phone to my mom and I always struggled after that. I think I was quite nasty to Tam and you sent me to bed (I assume without dinner because it was still daylight, but I don't really remember). It was a Friday, because there was a school dance. I remember you left to take Tam to the dance and when you came home you came to the pull-out couch I called my bed. You could have left me to wallow while you watched TV or something. You didn't. You might have said something, I don't remember any words. I just remember comfort as you held me while I cried myself to sleep. Uncle Allen brought Tam home, so you never left my side. Despite the uncomfortableness of the bed, I'm sure it bothered your arthritis, you stayed. All night you were there.
I've often wondered about that time. Why did you take me in? Why did you continue trying to comfort me even when I pushed away your comfort? How was it that you were able to maintain hope that I'd someday get through it and be a better person? How could you continually love me when I was so often unloveable?
When I became a mom, I started to "get it" just a little. Then I became an Aunt and understood a little more. Finally, after becoming a foster parent I began to really see.
The details and logistics might be difficult.
Semantics might vary.
Emotions and motivation, perception and expectations will be different for everyone.
The foundation though?
Pretty simple.
LOVE.
1 Corinthians 13:7
(Love)...bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
It's that simple. Love.
It wasn't until years later that I would begin to read my bible and understand God's love. I can look back now though and see that whether you intended it or not, you showed His love to me that year.
When I start to have the same questions about Him that I had about you so long ago...Why does He take me in and call me His own? Why does He comfort even when I push Him away? How is it that He pours His hope into my life while I am yet a broken vessel? Why does He continually love me and draw me nearer when I'm so often unloveable and rebellious?...I can look at those memories and remember it's LOVE. Your love...the love of an Aunt for her niece was a seed planted, a spark ignited to show me an all encompassing love...an unending love...a relentless love...a love so deep that He died for me.
I'm not sure much changed that year. In fact, I think little did. However, in the years that followed your love broke through, eventually helping me get to a place where God's love could break through. I'll never be the same.
Thank you seems completely inadequate, but I'm not sure what else to say or how to say it. I hope that in reading this you will see how much you have meant to me. Seeing you once or twice a year at family functions and giving a quick hug will never ever be enough. I love you, Aunt Terri. I hope this was your best birthday yet! 
Writing these letters has been harder than I thought it would be. Digging up memories of things long since buried in my mind and heart. Thinking on things with a different perspective. The perspective of a thirty-something wife, and mother that has a lot of "life baggage" is very very different than the perspective I had while going through those times of gathering the baggage.
I have a lot of memories of time spent with you. My favorite one was one day when we went shopping. Well, I'm sure there were lots of shopping trips, but this particular day was different from any other that I remember. Michael was a baby, he must have been just a couple of months old...I remember it being cold weather, because I was wearing that ugly blue/white faux sheepskin coat that I hated so much. Anyways, do you know where this is going? Do you remember this story?
You and mom worked on getting us kids all bundled up. Tam and I got our coats on and you took us out to the car. Mom comes out and gets Amy in the car. Off we go. Tam and I are giggling and talking and you both keep telling us to quiet down. We get almost out of the trailer park when one of you finally realizes what we are saying. Michael. Where's Michael? Mom thought you brought him out, you thought mom brought him out, we girls thought the whole thing was quite funny. Michael, well, I'm not sure he really cared at the time. He was safe and sound in the living room, waiting for his mama or his aunt to realize he'd been forgotten.
I have other memories, catching fireflies on hot summer days when you lived in Smyrna. Getting icecream at the Lewes Dairy Mart. I mostly remember a lot of time just playing and being with Tam, my first BFF (best friend forever for those that need clarification). I guess in my mind you were just around by default, 'cause Tam was the important one in my life back then. :-)
As I sift through it all, one thing stands out more than any other. Not then. I'm sure I didn't have a clue back then. Now though? Now, I see so clearly what you have done for me and the influence you have had on my life.
All of the fun memories, cute stories, outings, gifts pale in comparison. It all fades away when I focus on the bigger picture. I was a kid. To this day I still don't know all of the details. I don't know how the situation came about, who made the choices. I just know that during what was probably the single most difficult year of my childhood you were there.
You know the story of my childhood. I don't need to rehash details and share dirty laundry, but you know that I was a difficult child, an angry child, a confused child. That was all before my dad died. Then, he died and my mom was on another continent, it all became magnified I'm sure. So there I was, eleven soon to be twelve years old. On the cusp of adolescence and already having gone through more than many adults ever will understand. You took me into your home and you loved me through it all.
That was a tough year for all of us. Having a house built, having your mother in law move in, having your niece move in...apparently you were trying to make yourself go crazy. I'm sure I'll never know what that was like for Tam. She was an only child with a pretty decent, albeit not perfect, childhood and now she had to share her parents, her grandma, her friends, her clothes, her bathroom, and her home with me.
I have a lot of memories from that year. Many of them difficult, negative memories I'd rather forget. Things that are hard to face even today. As I face them and consider them and of course over analyze them 'cause I'm good at that, something emerges from those ashes.
Comfort.
Hope.
Love.
It wasn't a perfect year. Tam and I fought and to be honest our relationship was never the same after that year. I'm sure you had plenty of moments you wanted to wring my neck or ship me back to my mother, or both. I know I didn't make anything easy, I was a picky eater, a lousy sleeper, a moody, miserable child. Still you were there, sacrificially pouring out...
Comfort.
Hope.
Love.
I'm sure there were many times like this one, but I remember one night in particular being very hard for me. I had talked on the phone to my mom and I always struggled after that. I think I was quite nasty to Tam and you sent me to bed (I assume without dinner because it was still daylight, but I don't really remember). It was a Friday, because there was a school dance. I remember you left to take Tam to the dance and when you came home you came to the pull-out couch I called my bed. You could have left me to wallow while you watched TV or something. You didn't. You might have said something, I don't remember any words. I just remember comfort as you held me while I cried myself to sleep. Uncle Allen brought Tam home, so you never left my side. Despite the uncomfortableness of the bed, I'm sure it bothered your arthritis, you stayed. All night you were there.
I've often wondered about that time. Why did you take me in? Why did you continue trying to comfort me even when I pushed away your comfort? How was it that you were able to maintain hope that I'd someday get through it and be a better person? How could you continually love me when I was so often unloveable?
When I became a mom, I started to "get it" just a little. Then I became an Aunt and understood a little more. Finally, after becoming a foster parent I began to really see.
The details and logistics might be difficult.
Semantics might vary.
Emotions and motivation, perception and expectations will be different for everyone.
The foundation though?
Pretty simple.
LOVE.
1 Corinthians 13:7
(Love)...bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
It's that simple. Love.
It wasn't until years later that I would begin to read my bible and understand God's love. I can look back now though and see that whether you intended it or not, you showed His love to me that year.
When I start to have the same questions about Him that I had about you so long ago...Why does He take me in and call me His own? Why does He comfort even when I push Him away? How is it that He pours His hope into my life while I am yet a broken vessel? Why does He continually love me and draw me nearer when I'm so often unloveable and rebellious?...I can look at those memories and remember it's LOVE. Your love...the love of an Aunt for her niece was a seed planted, a spark ignited to show me an all encompassing love...an unending love...a relentless love...a love so deep that He died for me.
I'm not sure much changed that year. In fact, I think little did. However, in the years that followed your love broke through, eventually helping me get to a place where God's love could break through. I'll never be the same.
Thank you seems completely inadequate, but I'm not sure what else to say or how to say it. I hope that in reading this you will see how much you have meant to me. Seeing you once or twice a year at family functions and giving a quick hug will never ever be enough. I love you, Aunt Terri. I hope this was your best birthday yet!
A story about appropriate clothing
We always make sure our children are clothed appropriately for the occasion...
Case in point...
Parker is ready for the snow.
This morning, Parker did not want to wear clothes.
Parker's mom said, "going naked is not an option".
Since Parker's mom always wins, he is wearing clothing.
Parker's mom also understands Parker's issues with clothing.
Parker's mom knows that Parker obeys and wears clothes he hates nearly every day (there are a few things surprisingly that he likes).
This is why, Parker's mom doesn't mind compromise sometimes on days when no one is visiting and Parker isn't going out in public.
Parker's mom chooses days/times to work with him on his issues. Other days, Parker's mom chooses other battles.
The compromise has become one of two things.
Thing 1...Parker wears one of the t-shirts he likes and then he puts his legs through the head hole of a second t-shirt. This accomplishes mom's goal, that he isn't naked. It accomplishes Parker's goal that nothing is around his legs.
Thing 2...Parker wears one of dad's t-shirts. Again, accomplishing the above goals.
Today, Parker has chosen thing 2...daddy's t-shirt.
Parker knows where the t-shirts are located. A bottom drawer, easily accessible to him. He is permitted to wear whichever of daddy's t-shirts he wants.
While Parker's mom prepared breakfast, Parker went to find a t-shirt.
The Grinch.
I'm not sure
That
There has
ever
been
a
more appropriate clothing choice.
Of course, if Parker's mom was a deep thinker, she'd wonder...
Is Parker wearing a Grinch shirt because it expresses the fact he's in a foul mood?
or
Is he in a foul mood because he's wearing a Grinch shirt?
Case in point...
Parker is ready for the snow.
This morning, Parker did not want to wear clothes.
Parker's mom said, "going naked is not an option".
Since Parker's mom always wins, he is wearing clothing.
Parker's mom also understands Parker's issues with clothing.
Parker's mom knows that Parker obeys and wears clothes he hates nearly every day (there are a few things surprisingly that he likes).
This is why, Parker's mom doesn't mind compromise sometimes on days when no one is visiting and Parker isn't going out in public.
Parker's mom chooses days/times to work with him on his issues. Other days, Parker's mom chooses other battles.
The compromise has become one of two things.
Thing 1...Parker wears one of the t-shirts he likes and then he puts his legs through the head hole of a second t-shirt. This accomplishes mom's goal, that he isn't naked. It accomplishes Parker's goal that nothing is around his legs.
Thing 2...Parker wears one of dad's t-shirts. Again, accomplishing the above goals.
Today, Parker has chosen thing 2...daddy's t-shirt.
Parker knows where the t-shirts are located. A bottom drawer, easily accessible to him. He is permitted to wear whichever of daddy's t-shirts he wants.
While Parker's mom prepared breakfast, Parker went to find a t-shirt.
The Grinch.
I'm not sure
That
There has
ever
been
a
more appropriate clothing choice.
Of course, if Parker's mom was a deep thinker, she'd wonder...
Is Parker wearing a Grinch shirt because it expresses the fact he's in a foul mood?
or
Is he in a foul mood because he's wearing a Grinch shirt?
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Spring is finally here!
Every year, from Spring until late fall we try and spend time at a nearby park at least once a week. Today, the weather was finally nice and our schedule allowed for us to head that direction. Usually we go on Friday mornings. 
The tire swing...the first thing Jerald goes for and the last thing on earth that Rocklin will go near...
However, Jerald discovered that the book mobile is there on Thursday afternoons. He is on a quest to visit every library in our state and apparently, the book mobile counts as a library. We checked out several books, then hit the playground for a bit. Rocklin wasn't feeling well, he's had some food allergy issues this week and ended up a bit dehydrated from it I think. After some play-time, he asked that we take a walk throught the woods and then head home. It was a quick trip, but we had fun and it's great to have nice weather again! I'm really looking forward to adding weekly park visits into our routine again.
I didn't get too many pictures, many of what I did capture were the back of Parker because he kept running away from me. I have several great ones of Aaron, he kept yelling "quick take my picture 'cause I'm cute!".
I didn't get too many pictures, many of what I did capture were the back of Parker because he kept running away from me. I have several great ones of Aaron, he kept yelling "quick take my picture 'cause I'm cute!".
There's Parker's back again...
A group shot during our walk through the woods...
The tire swing...the first thing Jerald goes for and the last thing on earth that Rocklin will go near...
"take two pictures this time"...
"Look I'm a moose on a big rock"...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
