To Share or Not to Share.. That is the Question.

When we have a difficult day with school I share it. When we have a great day I share it. (Loudly, I'm aware.) But what about when we have a normal day? A day when we just do school and enjoy each other?

This is the weirdest kind of day to share, which seems odd, I know. But when we have a calm day where we meet some of our goals, some house work gets done and perhaps dinner is made, well, these are the days when the coolest things happen. These days I know I'll see again - frequently.

 These regular days are my favorite days. They are the ones where I see all of the many reasons we chose to home school become reality.  I see my kids learning to work together as a team. I see them cheering each other on. I see a new enthusiasm for learning in each of them. I see what I've been teaching them randomly given back to me within other subjects, in their journals, in our conversations and even in their play. The other day Sarah was telling her American Girl Doll what 'commutative' means. John tried to put a mathematical set {a,b,c} into his journal. Violet wants to learn a piano piece by Tchaikovsky for her project on Russia. 

Sarah is flying ahead in reading. I had no idea she could or would read like this. Because we're at home she can read through her books at her own pace. She wouldn't be able to do this in public/private school to the extent she is here. If I tell people about this, then am I telling them that their child is being held back?

Violet can now work independently. She's had the hardest time with this. She'd come to a problem, not immediately know the answer  and just sit. When I'd  ask her what was wrong she'd tell me, "I don't know this one. What's the answer?" It has taken us four months for her to learn true problem solving skills and to learn to push herself. She most definitely did not learn those skills in public school. She expected to be spoon fed the information. Because of the public school system? Or the level of difficulty of her work? Or because I just happened to hit this phase in development? I don't know, but if I talk about this I feel certain that those in public school hear me saying their child is not learning to learn.

 We've come to learn that John has mild dyslexia - although 'mild' is hard to measure, I think. He doesn't get 'mildly' frustrated when he can't read because there's just too many words on the page. I believe that  if he were in public/private school this year he would have become 'that' kid who finishes his work too quickly (and poorly) and then causes problems, and the real reason may not have been found. After many conversations and much research, no, I don't think he would have been well serviced in public/private school. (Dyslexia is considered a 'medical diagnosis' by the education world. It is considered an 'educational diagnosis' by the medical world. Thus giving each side the opportunity to not address this properly.)  I also fear the conversations I would have had, the situations he would have caused because of his activity level. I don't think this could have been addressed well if he were in a traditional classroom- he causes problems in our classroom of three, I cannot imagine what would happen in a class of 23 +. At home, we are addressing all of these issues at once and already seeing some success. I believe it's because I can provide him with one on one support, encouragement and problem solving. If your child has these same difficulties and I share all this with you, are you hearing that your child can only be successful if you home school?

Too many questions, none of which can be answered. When talking with others I hear myself saying things like, "This is our gig. It works, but that doesn't mean your way doesn't work." It's like that Seinfeld episode where they keep saying, "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

I don't want my excitement in sharing our special moments, our mundane "YAY" moments to cause others to think I'm judging them. I'm not. No matter how incredibly awesome I think homeschooling is, no matter that I know a couple mom's who would ROCK this out should they take the plunge (I'm talking to you, Jeannine), I don't want anyone to feel I'm judging them for their decision to not do what I am. 

I also think that perhaps I over think things.

This Is What School Looks Like . . . I Think

I know I've already talked about wondering what a day looks like in the life of a home schooling family. But the whole month of November was difficult and I feel like we got very little accomplished. I'm told this is pretty normal - and a friend of mine who is a public school teacher says November is one of the most difficult months in traditional school, too. Knowing that it seems to be education wide makes me feel better. And maybe next November, when I'll be better prepared for so  much difficulty, will be better.

Last Monday we woke up struggling, again. I decided to start the day with our read out loud book, "The Master Puppeteer" by Katherine Patterson. We have just started studying Japan and I was hopeful that since we were so lackluster in our day already, that beginning school with something we all find enjoyable would help turn the day around. I read and the kids drew - they have to draw things that are related to what I'm reading about. I figured out pretty quickly that if I give them something to do as I read then they focus more. At first this was difficult for me, as that's really not what reading out loud to a classroom of kids looks like. It's certainly not how I did it when I was a classroom teacher. (Which is probably why I had to stop every couple paragraphs and tell kids to be quiet, stop jiggling their desk, etc.)

While I was reading I found that they were interrupting to ask questions about the clothing, surroundings and objects that were being described. I spent two months in Japan when I was 14, so I still have some knowledge of the culture, etc. They also had questions about the puppets that were being described - which I couldn't explain. One of them suggested YouTube. . . and we spent the next 1 1/2 watching videos of this specific type of Japanese puppet, how they are made and move and watching them in action. That led us to Kabuki videos and tutorials on applying their makeup, why it's only men who perform this, etc. Which led us to Geisha girls, their kimono's and how to apply makeup. Then I ventured up to the attic and dug out my box of things I kept from my trip. We spent the next two hours on the floor looking at photos, talking about all the festivals and shrines in them. I have three pair of 'flip flops' and for the rest of the day they tried to walk in them. Violet and Sarah have been trying to go from kneeling to standing in a kimono like a 'lady' does. (And I'm a bit smug because I can still kind of do it. Kind of.)

This was how we spent our day. We didn't stop until it was time for John's speech. It was a really great day. We laughed all day as we tried the shoes on - and looked at pictures of me as a 14 year old in 1987. (14 year old girls don't look like 14 year old girls today. At all. )

Then, as we were waiting for John I realized . . . we didn't do any math. Or reading. Or science. Or journal, calendar, art, grammar, flash cards. GAAAHH.

BUT, when my husband came home and I mentioned that I'd pulled my Japan stuff down he said, "Yeah, the kids told me. It sounds like they had a great time. That's all they talked about in the car the entire time."

And although we didn't get any 'subjects' done, I'm reminded that this, this being immersed in a topic, this is why we home school.

The Magic of Walt

We spent the week of Thanksgiving at Disney and it truly was magical in all Disney ways. We went to The Animal Kingdom and rode through the wilds of Africa. Sarah danced in a street show in Africa. We walked through the gardens of Asia. We went on the famous magic teacups. We braved Space Mountain. We went on Star Tours and Buzz Lightyears shoot 'em out game/ride. We met characters. We shopped in the ridiculously expensive Disney souvenir shops.

Of course.

And we also experienced our usual family antics along the way. Because, really, what vacation is complete without a few hang ups ? And a trip the ER. On the day we arrived.

Of course.

Let me explain . . .

We woke the kids up at 4 am on Saturday morning and said, " Get dressed because WE'RE GOING TO DISNEY!"

Violet stared at us blankly. John said, "I'm tired." Sarah's mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. Then the questions started: did I pack shorts? (pretty sure I had that covered) Swim suits? (even goggles) sneakers? (gee, I hadn't thought of shoes!)

We arrived in Florida at 10 am without any problems at all. The kids were great on the plane and didn't even need the books and games I'd packed in their carry ons. We went to the condo where there  was an incredible water park with heated water and a lazy river. We played for a few hours then the kids all napped. We cooked a Thanksgiving dinner (my mom even made a turkey and all the fixings) and had family over that I hadn't seen in at least 14 years. We laughed and talked for hours.

Violet couldn't seem to wake up. When she participated with the family she was reserved and quiet. Very unlike her. After everybody left she really started complaining that her neck hurt, she had a terrible headache and she couldn't swallow. We've had enough cases of strep in the house for me to recognize the signs -- and we were a thousand miles from home, on vacation and about to do Disney World.

So we took her to the ER. They quickly diagnosed strep.

Of course.

They prescribed us antibiotics and sent us on our way.

She felt well enough the next day to visit The Kennedy Space Center. (a colossal waste of money, but they had fun) and go to our special dinner that evening. 'The Hoop De Doo Revue.' It was PERFECT. They put the spotlight on Sarah and announced her birthday. One of the actors teased my husband. One growled and pawed at Violet when he was dressed as a bear. John smiled, laughed and clapped along with the songs.  They had a full gluten free dinner for me. We couldn't stop smiling. When we got back to the condo they acted out their favorite parts for my parents.

In the morning, Sarah's birthday, we got up early and headed out The Animal Kingdom. On the way into the park Sarah, my least coordinated child, was galloping and dancing along, asking what time it was so she could mark the exact time she was born. A lady heard her and said, "Happy Birthday!" Sarah looked up to say thank you, tripped and hit the sidewalk on one knee. Hard.

Of course.

It immediately started bleeding, quite nicely, too. She was sobbing and yelling as I whipped out my handy dandy first aid kit and cleaned it up. But it was big. And the brand new kit had one small band aid.

Of course.

The Animal Kingdom was incredible. We all had a great day without any other problems.

On Tuesday we visited my parents new house and had another good day.

On Wednesday I carefully packed our bags and coolers, put my schedule in my pocket and we headed out to The Magic Kingdom. We parked, took the little train to the Tram, the Tram to the front gates and waited for the park to open. It opened and we continued to wait to go through security. We went through, no problem. We got to the ticket taker, put the first ticket in and it spit it out, fast.

I had the wrong tickets.

The WRONG tickets.

Of course.

Cue uncontrollable sobbing -- from me.

I had to wind and push my way back the opposite way, find where to buy tickets and buy 5 tickets. All while sobbing. Then I had to get back into the security line, where the worker asked me several times if I was OK.

No, no I was not OK.

Then I sobbed my way back through the line, apologizing over and over to the people I was cutting in front off, trying to explain, "I brought the wrong tickets -sob- my family is up front -sob- I'm sooo sorry -sob-"

But I got through it, we put our tickets in and off we went. We went on all the rides the kids wanted then stopped for lunch. Where we discovered that we hadn't packed any bread sandwiches.

Of course.

We just ate the meat and cheese and soldiered on.

The kids went on more rides and met The Fairy Godmother. They had a blast.

We got home about 11:30, shoved everybody in bed and slept in the next day. When we woke up we took our time and went to Hollywood Studios.

It was perfect. Not too crowed at all, we got the Fast Passes we wanted and went in everything except Fantasmic.  Because it was Sarah's birthday she had on a pin that said, "It's my birthday!" and all the cast members wished her happy birthday constantly. The ticket taker at The Indiana Jones Stunt Show saw her pin and asked if we wanted VIP seats. Yes please! So down to the front row we went!

The kids met "Green Army Man" from Toy Story, Sully and Mike from Monsters Inc, Wreck it Ralph and the little girl. Then? MICKEY MOUSE. During our wait at Indiana Jones, John had drawn Mickey a picture, then put it in his pocket and carried it there - safely- the rest of the day. When we saw Mickey -- and no line - he whipped that picture out and rushed the line. He danced his way up to Mickey and thrust the picture in Mickey's hand. Then Mickey took it, hugged John, turned and showed the note off to the photographer and everybody in line behind us.

::headexplosion::

We went home, so happy.

Friday we went to Downtown Disney and got ready for our flight out at 7:00. Sometime during 11 and 12 I received 2 calls from an unknown number in Texas. Which I ignored. About 1:30 I noticed that the number had left 2 voice mails, so I reluctantly decided to listen to them.

It was Southwest. Our flight time had been "updated" to 9:00. We wouldn't be getting home until well after midnight.

Of course.

In the end we switched flights. We did have a connection in Ft.  Lauderdale, but we made it without a problem. Sarah was complaining about her knee and we noticed that it had puss coming out of it.

Of course.

We got home and were in bed by 12:00.

Saturday morning we got up very late and went to a diner for breakfast. Sarah took two bites of her favorite pancakes and refused to drink her hot chocolate. Her knee was still kind of gross and she wouldn't bend it.

So off to the walk in clinic we went. For a scraped knee.

It was infected. (but not badly)

Of course.

We got home and put all the kids on the sofa to watch as much TV as they wanted. I went upstairs and unpacked us. I came back downstairs and Sarah hugged me.

And was hot. So I took her temperature.

102.2

Of course.

The walk in clinics check out instructions said to take her to the ER if she developed a fever/chills.

She had both.

Of course.

So we bundled her up. She asked for a drink before we left.

And promptly puked it all up.

Of course.

So my husband drove us the ER while I held the puke bucket in the back seat.

They took us right in, worried about her knee.

It looked the same.

Her throat? Did not.

She has strep.

Of course.

Today we are all sitting on the sofa watching as much TV as we want, refusing to do a.single.thing. Drugging Sarah with Motrin and Tylenol.

Of course.

But did we truly have a magical time at the most magical place?

Of course. :)

While On Vacation . . .

My children misbehaved. And were a freaking riot. A riot. I took notes, for real, on all the weird stuff they said and did just so I could blog it. They'd say something and I'd laugh so hard, then say, "Hang on, let me write that down." And type it into my little 'notes' app on my iPhone. I always wondered if/when I'd use that! So, a little glimpse into our vacation:

Me: Please don't run on the dock

Sarah & John, in unison: The life jacket makes us run!

~~

Sarah: See that duck? It's name is Flipper.

Me: How do you know it's name is Flipper?

Sarah: Because she's smart.

~~

Did you know fish can choke?

~~

That fish is named Big Ben. Oh, there he is! And there he is! And there . . . and there . . .

~~

John: Mommy, can you go sit over there, because the boat is like leaning.

(NO I WILL NOT! THE BOAT IS NOT LEANING!)

~~

Daddy, we have a problem (said while fishing), my wheeler inny came off. (that would be the fishing reel that came off.)

~~

Sarah, why don't you sit down?

Oh, I'm not putting my little patootie on those rocks!

~~

I'll touch the fish!! Wait, put him to sleep first.

~~

Daddy, I don't want a booby.

Daddy: Well, that's good, because it's called a bobber.

~~

Whew. I can't run 20 miles. I need running lessons.

~~

We had a wonderful time. We laughed and hung out on the Lake on a pontoon boat, where my husband helped the kids catch fish (although they totally think they did it all themselves) and Violet learned to cast, catch and reel in all by herself.

We went to this small little amusement park, family and Christian owned that was fantastic. Del Grosso's. They had a great water park and a ton of small fair/carnival rides for all ages. We spent 7 hours there, and it was small enough that the kids could get away from you a bit and feel some freedom, but were still with you.  If you're near the State College area of Pennsylvania I highly recommend it.

We had a great time -- and no cell/wifi service.

OMG.

And we're going back next year for 5 days.  (on a houseboat -- so awesome!)

I loved it, but did I mention no cell or wifi??

Lazy Days With Grandma

On Tuesday we went to my in laws in New Jersey with the hope that my husband would get to kayak the Delaware and fish while Sarah and John and I hung out with Grandma and Grandpa. I took my knitting and some work, knowing the kids would be entertained by the new "old" toys at Grandma's and the brook in her yard.

Only it started raining about 10 minutes from their house, a huge deluge of water that kept my husband out of the river. To say he was upset is an understatement. He'd taken time off from work and was looking forward to this so much.

So we hung out. And did a whole lot of nothing. Nothing that included the kids playing Mr. Piggly Wiggly with Grandma and Daddy teaching the kids how to play Domino's - not the stand up and crash down kind, but the old man at the table in the park kind.

They loved it! (and so did Daddy. Then they played the stand up and crash down type.)

We had a lovely lunch and it stopped raining. So the kids got on their swimsuits and climbed down into the brook while my husband 'fished.' This is how the fishing goes:

Cast the line.

Snag a very dumb fish.

Toss said fish at children.

Children scream in fear.

Children beg for more.

Cast the line.

Catch a fish. Toss a fish. Scream. Beg.

 

I don't understand the game, but it never changes and the kids initiate it every time we are there and it's warm enough to be in the brook.

Incidently, this is the same brook my husband grew up fishing, building dams in and riding his canoe down -- and no, it's not that big.Canoes should not go down this part.

They all splashed and ran and screamed while there. Grandma and Daddy were in on all the action.

They built a huge dam that took about an hour to complete. John laughed and screamed, jumped and dunked himself in the new, deeper water.

Sarah stood on the bridge and declared: I don't walk in wet grass. You can carry  me.

*snort* Like that's going to happen.

I took pictures and giggled. Did some knitting and chatted with my mother in law.

In the end it was a great day -- all saved by Domino's and a dam.

 

Growing Up

Violet left for Bible camp on Monday afternoon -- for a week. I was worried and didn't think she was ready to go, it turns out I was the one who wasn't ready. She was vibrating with excitement and anticipation for weeks before hand and couldn't even sit still the day we dropped her off.

And the camp? RUSTIC. I don't do rustic unless it's in a recipe name. Rustic vegetable soup? Check. Rust chicken and vegetables? Check. Rustic cabins? No thank you. But she was in love with the place, so I put an extra layer on her mattress and we left.

*sob*

I haven't heard from her since, and it's Wednesday. That's two nights without me tucking her in. Two days without me telling her to brush her teeth, her hair, get dressed, make her bed.

That means she's doing this all on her own. I think we're going to have to up her responsibilities when she gets home.

She's having a blast, I'm sure, with barely a minute to think about or miss us. Which I'm thankful for. And I know the camp is great - a dear friend went to the same camp for years and has told me what a blessing it was and she received many blessings by going to the camp. I'm hopeful it will provide Violet with the same. I want her to make lifelong friendships and grow in Christ while she's having fun and I know this is one major way to accomplish that.

But I still miss her. And I'm still going to bathe her the minute she gets home.

It's That Time Again . . .

It's that time again for four of my dear friends and I to get together, just as we have done every July for the past three years. Remember last year? It.Was.Epic. I mean, we talked with Josh Groban! Who said I had great moves and a wave like Prince William.

Now, this year won't be quite so exciting, but it's exciting all the same. Because I get to see these ladies who, as I've told you before, have stuck by me through my darkest, deepest depression.

They could have run, instead they stayed and were gentle with me. They encouraged me through two hospitalizations. They IM'ed me and Skyped with me. They emailed and called.

Yes, I had support right here, from my husband and amazing friends as well. But there was just something special, knowing that four women who had never met me in person would continually provide me hope and love.

I wonder if I would have done the same. I would now, knowing what I do. Having learned from so many people what friendship truly means.

So, as I head out to Pennsylvania tomorrow, with one of the ladies, Keren (already with me from Texas), I am once again filled with awe. I feel encouraged and loved in the way only girlfriends can provide.

We're going to giggle like 13 year old's and  share silly stories and secrets late into the night.

We may talk about the man who drew us together, but he's really not important. He's not what draws us close to each other anymore. It's our friendship.

I sincerely hope each of you has this kind of love in your life. We are truly blessed. Truly.

 

It's Summer. . .

Which means Violet is 9 today. And officially in the 4th grade.

Sarah is officially in the 1st grade.

And John is officially a kindergartner.

And I am officially old and living in some sort of weird time warp. Because I'm absolutely positive that just yesterday John was born, Sarah was 15 months old and Violet was 3 1/2 years old.

I'm positive.

I know that I have just put the girls in these sparkly dresses for Violet's 4th Birthday bash and forced them to hold a sleepy eyed John.

The rest of the world has moved on but we have not.

Anyway. Summer also means that it's time for the end of softball, the beginning of  swim team, the girls dance recital and long, lazy days at the pool. Which I love, because let's be honest, if we are at the pool 1) My house isn't getting trashed by three rowdy children and 2) I can't clean if we are not home. That's a win - win situation right there.

John briefly flirted with the idea of swimming on our swim team, but in the end the playground was far too attractive. So he's not swimming this year - which is totally fine, even if his swimming would have alleviated my  mommy guilt of his sister's being in summer activities and his not being in one. I'll just have to let that go. Let.It.Go. (and repeat.)

Swim team means Swim Meets, which means cue me becoming 'that' crazy poolside mom. Yes. Oh yes. I may  stand at the end of the lane, on occasion, ( OK, like every time they swim) and cheer and yell for my kids and their friends. Loudly. And jump around. Like a fool at a Josh Groban concert. Whatever.

It may also highly embarrass my husband. Which I just may find pretty entertaining. But the thrill of seeing those kids finish a lap for the first time? Or seeing their face as they touch that wall, winning time or not? Priceless. So I'll be throwing my 39 year old body all around the pool deck again this season, waving my arms and screaming like a fan girl.

It's all good. :)

Run, John, Run!

You may know that my John is a bit stubborn. Just a bit.

Last year when he did a session of soccer skills in the spring it was more like Daddy and Mommy doing soccer skills, red light green light etc and John sucking his fingers. But he insisted that he wanted to play this year.

So we signed him up.

And the first practice, which was labeled a 'meet and greet,' I didn't bring a soccer ball for him. He stood in the middle of the field . . . sucking his fingers. Not even Sarah, who is on the same team could get him to move. Another mom suggested that perhaps golf was his sport.

Excellent.

The next practice/game I was so nervous. Had I just invested over a hundred dollars for him to stand in the middle of the field and suck his fingers for six weeks?

Well, the first practice/game he jumped right in! He kicked the ball, he shot on goal, he didn't care when he was goalie and was scored on.

Every time a new thing happened I thought, "This is it. This is when he freezes and the fingers go in the mouth." But no!

This past Saturday he totally got into it. He got right into the pack, kicking at the ball, trying to steal it away, running at the front of the group.

At one point he actually stole the ball, took it on a long, long run from the center of the field right down the middle and shot on goal!

Our goal.

The goalie stopped it.

The most wonderful coach ruffled his hair and said, "Great running, John! Way to kick that ball!"

They are after all just five and six.

Well done, John!

Bring Home The Bacon, Fry It Up In A Pan

(does anybody even remember this song? No? I've just so dated myself.)

Anyway, I can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, because I'm a woman.

A woman with a job. A paying job. In cash.

So, it's contract work, about 10 hours a week, but you guys, it pays me money. M-O-N-E-Y. Like, I can buy a pair of shoes money, or I can take my husband to dinner money. Or I could join the Y money. Real, live, green money.

Mulah. Dead presidents. Clams.

Whatever you call it, I'm making some of it, and I'm so excited.

It's not just the money that I'm excited about. I'm also thrilled that I was considered for and hired for the position -- and I have one. A position. With a title. I know.

This means that I'm really normal -that I've shown the outside world what I feel inside - confident and healthy. (I know that I'll always be working at being better, I think I learned that lesson last week. But this makes me feel normal, you know?)

I feel like this is a huge milestone in my health. To have somebody else recognize that I'm healthy and can be trusted with a project  . . . it means more than I thought it would. Today as I was being trained I thought, " I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. But I also know that I can do it." And I can. I can organize these papers. I can get these mailings out. I can talk to mom's about cord blood. I know all this stuff. I got this.

And outside of being a mom (which is a huge thing) and a wife (which is a huge thing) I haven't felt like that in probably four years.

You guys? I'm a mom. With an outside job. That pays money. People are trusting me. And I feel like  I got this.

Whoa.

I.Am.Running!

A 5K. I'm doing it. For reals.

I signed up for it, it's paid for and the date is marked: March 11.

And I have a runnig partner! My friend and neighbor, Nick, has signed up and is running with me. Which is totally awesome. I put it out on Facebook and he's the only one who jumped in with me. Except he's like 6'5 and runs all.the.time.

They're Smarter Than I Think

So. We got the kids an Xbox 360. I had it all planned out, how we were going to give it to them.

We hid the receiver by the base of the TV with the ottoman so they couldn't see it.

I wrapped a game.

I wrapped a controller.

And when they opened these two seemingly random gifts my husband and I were going to be all, "What in the world? I must have gotten the wrong gift from Amazon and not realized it! And then I wrapped it? And gave it to you? Silly mommy! We don't have an Xbox!" And then when they were done opening up their gifts we were going to slide the ottoman away and scream "OMG we DO have an Xbox!"

Yeah, it was going to be epic. I was hoping for some tears, maybe a need to run for the bathroom.

Instead, Violet walked through the room and saw the *special word* sensor that is on top of the TV. It's black. Slim. Blends in. And since we don't watch TV on Christmas I didn't even think about it.

And she screamed.

And cried.

And may of needed the bathroom.

It was epic.

(just not the epic that I had all planned, see?)

And A One And A Two . . .

This weekend I got up on stage. And danced. At 39. In front of hundreds of people.

Yeah, I did that.

In full make up and Victorian dress.

And it was SO much fun!

The dress? Not so much fun. It was purple and stripey and added at least 40 pounds.

So Much To Be Thankful For

I know this is an obvious post, but let's go with it, shall we?

I have so much to be thankful for. For friends who have stood by me as I heal. Who have supported me with kindness and love this past year. I don't know if you'll ever understand how much your love and support mean to me, and I can't ever thank you enough. When I'm having a bad day your friendships pull me up.

For family who loved me through the darkest days and now smile with me as I have bright days. You helped me when I couldn't help myself and for that I am ever thankful. Your love pulls me up on my bad days and supports me in ways I can't express.

Six.Years.Old.

How is that even possible, Sarah? How are you six? You were little for so long and now you're a growing kid. I'm sitting here typing this and remembering your birth. We should have known then what an energy filled child you would be. You came into this world just as you occupy it: with an excitability and energy that I've rarely seen.

I spent the night before you were born thinking, "I can't sleep." So I paced and rocked. At 6:45 I had a contraction. At 7:00 I had a contraction that took my breath away. At 8:00 we were in the car on the way to the hospital. In the car I wanted to push. We got to the hospital at 8:30. They took me right back, as I was 'mooing' with every contraction. But they thought I was over reacting. They were wrong. You were born at 8:54. Two hours, start to finish. It was fast and wonderful, exciting and full of laughter. Just like you.

These Are The Days

I used a writing prompt today: What was the happiest day of your life thus far? And the answer was so quick and obvious-- and cliche that I cringed to write about it. Then I started thinking . . .

I have more than one. And more than four. I married the man of my dreams, so naturally I never thought I'd top my wedding day. Then a year late we found out we were expecting -- the sheer joy! When Violet was born I believed I'd never been happier. Nine months later we were expecting again and I felt that same joy again. Even though we lost that baby, and the next, that joy, that extreme happiness stands out in my mind.

My February Song

Where has that old friend gone

Lost in a February song

Tell him it won't be long

'Till he opens his eyes, opens his eyes

Where is that simple day

Before colors broke into shades

And how did I ever fade

Into this life, into this life

And I never want to let you down

Forgive me if I slip away

When all that I've known is lost and found

I promise you I, I'll come back to you someday

Morning is waking up

And sometimes it's more than just enough

when all that you really need to love

Is in front of your eyes, it's in front of your eyes

And I never want to let you down

Forgive me if I slip away

Someitmes it's hard to find my ground

'Cause I keep on falling as

I try to get away from this crazy world

And I never want to let you down . ..

This is my song. My anthem. It's the song that pulled me through some of my deepest, darkest moments during my depression. The first time I understood the lyrics I had hope -- hope that I was not alone. That hope echoed through my soul. "I am not alone."

Rejoice, Again I Say Rejoice

Sitting in church Sunday morning.

The kids are whining. Crawling over me. Over my husband. I'm trying to focus.

The sun is coming through the window and is hot on me.

Sarah is talking to herself, loudly. Violet is gloomy. John is squirming in the pew in front of me.

I take a deep breath. Close my eyes. Open them, ready to glare and snap.

I see John's blonde head bowed. He's reading the hymnal and singing along.

He's four.

The hymn is 'Rejoice, The Lord is King'

I watch my husband rub John's head, see his large hand on John's small head. See my children in church. Squirming, but there. Listening to every tenth word. They are learning.

Rejoice. The Lord is King.

Daily Conversations

Krista over at Not Mommy of the Year  did a post like this a few weeks back and I thought it was a brilliant way to capture 'a day in the life'  kind of moment. So . . . I totally bogarted the idea for today's post. Krista is brilliant you know. Go check her out.

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John: Mommy, you know this orange soda? It tastes just.like.orange.soda.

Violet: I don't want to sleep! (Me: I didn't ask if you wanted to.) Well, you should ask! Ask!

Sarah: Words that have /d/ in the middle . . .door. Wouldya . . .

John: These are little coconuts! (they were Whoppers)

Me: I'm mailing your candy to the soldiers tomorrow, so pick out 5 pieces to keep.

Sarah: Why are you mailing my candy?

John: Because thems can't go trick or treating and get their own candy, right mommy?

Sarah: I said Iwould change the channel. You just didn't hear me, cuz I said it little.

John: I'll make this card for Violet. Becuase she doesn't feel good. And my card will make hers feel better.

Me: Sarah, you need to do it again.

Sarah: I did it like 99 times!

John: Do it 14 times. That's better. (14 is his favorite number.)

John: Let's rock and roll!

Violet: He jumped on my face! He did it on purpose!

Me: Really?

John: I fell! I fell!

Violet: He fell on my face on purpose!

Husband and Me: Really?

 

 

Hormonal Imbalances: On My Blog!

I have a guest blogger here today. She's not blogging at her own place today because (wait for it) she is here.at.my.house. Diana from Hormonal Imbalances is having a little vacation down memory lane, coming to see me, (and my husband, he's known her family since before she was born) and then hitting the BlogHer writing conference in NYC. What could be more perfect than that? You all know I adore and respect Diana - she's the reason I started blogging. She's the first blog I ever read. She's my 'Heir to Blair,' my 'Dooce.' And she's right here. Probably in my van as you read this. (that noise you hear? Me. Losing my mind.)