This year we made the big decision to keep Austin out of school and teach him all that he needs to know as a 5 year old from our very own home. It has been quite a roller coaster ride to say the least. I planned and prepared, researched and questioned, the year prior to my decision in an effort to be sure I was doing the right thing for Austin and the rest of the family. I will say that the first few weeks I was very doubtful, but as time went on and I learned more about my son, it became very clear and evident that we had made the right choice for him.
Everything was all new and experimental for me as I stumbled about trying to teach Austin with a regimented schedule that seemed ideal for myself to "get it over with," but with Austin, I should know you don't try to get anything "over with" in a hurry. If only Brandon had warned me about this trait that he obviously inherited from him:-)
After tweaking and adjusting my daily plans and goals for him, little by little, light bulbs came on for Austin, and I began to reap the rewards of my efforts! He was actually learning from me! Nothing is more frustrating than trying to teach something to someone who's little mind can't grasp the concept of what you are trying to convey. At first I worried that Austin had some kind of a disability but learned that he needed to chew on things for a while before absorbing it into his mind. I do think he has a touch of ADHD which comes by him naturally as both of his parents have it. Obviously we are not medicated for this, but I do need to get Brandon on something....:-) Not really, Brandon's fine, he just has a lot going on up there. For example; The other day I asked Brandon why it takes him so long to answer me when I ask him a simple question at the dinner table, and this was his reply: "My mind works like a computer and when I have too many files opened it makes the processing speed slower, hence causing a delay in the answers to your questions." Ok... that made perfect sence...?? :-) I replied, "Well, from now on, close out all of your files up there before you come to the dinner table."
I love Brandon, I really do. Its funny to look back at the first few years of our marriage and see how far we've come. One thing that I have learned in the past seven years, is that some things can never be changed in a person, and when it comes to those things, you just have to learn to live with them, and be happy, because some battles just aren't meant to have a winner and If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. This little phrase reminds me of something that happened this past week.
Ainsley Grace, the youngest of the A's, always gets fingers pointed at her when something mischievous has taken place, and the evidence left behind is nothing short of a disastrous picture displaying some fun had by some one. The first time Austin and Ava ever blamed their mess on Lil Sis, all I could do was laugh. Ainsley was so quick to reply "I did it," after hearing her name out of the mouths of her sibs, when asked by me "who did this?" This blame game became quite popular with a pretty consistent answer every time I would enter into the scene with the same question-- until this one day--I was busy trying to cram and finish up some Christmas orders and finalizations so I could start my Christmas baking, when all of a sudden I hear extreme 'split your gut' laughing coming from the room beside me. As I entered into the room, in a pretty tense mood to begin with, I found that it had rained shredded cheddar cheese all over my living room floor. Of course my first response was. "WHO DID THIS?" In high-pitched giggles Austin and Ava point to their baby sister. Ainsley, expecting to hear a light hearted response from me, proudly admits, "I did it!" Funny thing is, I did not respond in the way she thought I would and as I began to scold her, she quickly turned on her brother and sister by saying "Austin did...Ava did..." As angry as I was, at this moment I lost it. I broke down laughing while looking at the disgruntled face portrayed on my pitiful 18 month old. This poor child is going to be so confused in determining what is right, what is wrong, and how to get a good laugh out of people. I tried not to laugh. I really did. But she is just at such an incredibly cute age that I can't help but laugh at her crazy little antics. She learned from the best -- her little teachers, Austin and Ava. At a very young age she has learned when it comes to sibling rivalry and getting the upper hand, if you cant beat 'em, join 'em, so she joined them in their blame game, and ironically it worked! I love seeing the way all three of my AAA's minds are developing. They all have different gifts and wits about them that I hope they someday find in themselves and use in a positive light.
As the year comes to an end and I reflect on past events and happenings, I think one thing I can take with me from 2011 is, what you can learn through experience far outweighs what you learn from a book or a class, by leaps and bounds. From Developmental Psychology I remember a lot about stages of development in the human mind etc. but nothing that I retained in college can compare to what I have learned in the raising of my three very different children, uniquely made by the combination of two very different people's genes. Likewise in marriage, the books were greatly informative on what it could be like, but every couple is different and everyone is given a different hand of cards, that only they can truly know what to do with and make choices with. I know Brandon would agree with me in his field, as he has learned so much more pastoring a church in Miami than any seminary or degree could ever prepare him for. Life is made up of experiences, good ones, bad ones, and some that can't be explained but I guess the goal is to learn and take what you can from each experience and make it a great day, year and life! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Park Party of 5! Hope 2012 is your best year yet!
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Perfect Timing, Perfect Will, Relax, Take a Deep Breath And Chill:)
In everything there is a season, a time for having babies and a time for being done. A time for planting and a time for harvest. A time for fervent prayer and a time for answered prayer. I haven't blogged in a while as some of you may know. Summer has quickly come and gone, and apart from the craziness of flying solo with three small children on a plane that was experiencing engine problems, we had a wonderful, eventful summer! With two beautiful Maine weddings, a family vacation, and a couple days in Arcadia National Park (just hubs and I), you'd think I'd be inspired to write something interesting, but there really wasn't one particular thing that gave me any incentive to write. I was simply overwhelmed with thoughts, driving me straight into a writers block, lasting for a couple of months until recently...
When it comes to my posts, I write mainly about my children. It brings me much joy when writing about my beloved three known as the (AAA)'s. I write to capture the memories that may one day slip my mind. I write to share the joy of living the beautiful God-given life of freedom through Jesus Christ, and raising them in a Christian home. Lastly, I write to preserve the moments I have experienced that leave impressions on me as an individual, a mother and also on that of my husband and children.
Austin, Ava Marie and Ainsley, bring so much life and love to mine and Brandon's world. We often ask ourselves, what would we do without any of them. Each one fits so perfectly into our family and we are reminded daily of how blessed we are. First thing in the morning usually one if not two little fuzzy blonde heads will appear next to our bed. Sometimes it catches me by surprise as I think I hear breathing and turn my head only to witness two black eyes looking straight into mine. Ava's just tall enough for her eyes to meet mine as she stands beside my bed giving me my morning wake up. If its Austin waking first, I usually will get a couple of blankets tossed on top of me prior to him hoisting himself up onto our bed to snuggle in between. For now, Ainsley chills in her crib until I come get her. Soon she will join her sibs and be the third fuzzy head to show up next to our bed with yet another unique morning wakening. We are reminded of how much we are blessed not only from the moment they wake us up in the wee hours of morning, but throughout the day and after the bedtime rush is over. When we flop down onto our favorite spots in the upstairs loft, we sigh a breath of relief knowing they're tucked in snug for another night. We reflect on their cute little phrases or happenings of the days events. I will share with Brandon when one did something naughty, but also share as much as I can remember that was incredibly cute. It is then that we laugh, smile and silently thank God for our beloveds. The three little humans sent down to us from up above to make our life the blessing that it is today.
We recently made the heartfelt and prayerful decision to stop bringing babies into the world. Brandon scheduled himself the surgery and without a doubt in our minds we ended the possibility of us ever having anymore children. The decision to do this took longer for me to accept than him, but after assessing and realizing what it takes to invest quality time into each individual (A), it didnt take long for me to see that it was the right thing for us to do and if we were wrong and it needed to be tweaked, God still had control.
Our childbearing years have truly been an amazing experience for Brandon and I. My pregnancies have been healthy and fairly easy. My deliveries were even easier. Brandon calls it strange amnesia when I forget so quickly of the pain I experienced during delivery and how eager I am to do it again as though it was a walk in the park. Those moments of meeting my babies face to face for the first time are three of the most precious memories ever to be imprinted in my mind.
A few days before Brandon's surgery, one little line threw us for a loop and put us on a wild roller coaster ride of feelings and emotions that we didn't know what do to with. For about a week I had dreams and symptoms that I was pregnant, so we purchased a pregnancy test for when the time came. We wanted to have fast access, to ease our minds as soon as possible avoiding any unnecessary worry. That morning I woke up and knew I could no longer wait to find out what was going on with my body. I took a test that didn't work. It was a dud. It showed us nothing. I allowed it to give me peace of mind for most of the morning, as I took the kids to the playground where they had a great time playing and laughing until the black clouds brought it all to a halt, warning us to head home before the downpour.
With the rain falling down, the triple A's and I were destined for an afternoon in the confides of our living room. I found myself to be so sluggish and tired on this very day. This is very much out of my character so I thought it could quite possibly be an indication that something is not right. After sitting on the floor for some time while the kids crawled all over me, giggling and playing, I began to feel very maternal and thought, "Gee, I haven't done this with my kids in a long time. I some times get so busy cleaning house, doing laundry and things pertaining to my life, that I forget to take the time just to sit and enjoy their playfulness." Along with that, I also thought, "This is what I'm like when I'm pregnant!...Ahhh!!" So I abandoned the kids in the living room and rushed upstairs to take the other test left in the box of two. When I did...I COULD NOT BELIEVE MY EYES. It had a vague blue line perpendicular to the first solid blue line, creating a positive sign. How could this happen??? I was in shock. Austin asked me what was wrong and I told him in a shaky voice, "Nothing, mummies just about ready to have nervous breakdown." He looked at me strangely and decided not to attempt another shot at that question. I couldn't wait for Brandon to get home. I had to call him on the phone. I worried about him having an accident as he was in the car driving, but I was losing my mind just sitting waiting to tell him! His immediate response was, " It can't be! I'm stopping and buying you another test." I explained to him what I always knew to be true and that was that the test can't be wrong if it shows the positive line. It can only be wrong if its negative in a case where the hCg hormone is not quite strong enough to show up.
Brandon and I spent the whole evening and next day in shock.. So many thoughts running through our minds. How were we going to give them all the time and attention each rightfully deserved and needed? How would we afford it? How would we fly to visit family? One thought led to another. I had just begun to teach Zumba and was looking into it as a great second income to help pay for some upcoming expenses. Unfortunately, I need my body for that and instead would be lending it to a little person for nine months plus!! Brandon now had to consider putting not three but four kids through college.. and the the gender thought.... If it was another girl... that would mean three weddings! and oh the hormones! Too many females under one roof!! AHHHHHHH. Then, like a slow walk down a very steep cliff we began to rationalize and realize that this baby was a gift. A blessing from God. Another chicky to add to our nest of love. An answer to prayer from a question we had asked months ago discerning how many children we should have. We both always thought about how perfect it would be to have two of each and maybe this would be our second boy!
This was quite an event in our lives, but to make a long story short and turn it around 180 degrees, I'm not pregnant and not expecting a fourth child after all! After researching and looking into the possibilities of false positives, I decided to take another test. Just in case. Brandon was certain that it would be negative, but I was certain it was right the first time and would only confirm once again our news of a fourth child. Well, the test was negative and I couldn't believe it! We felt like a load of bricks had been lifted off of our shoulders and we had been given a second chance! I know, I know, it was just another baby, but as much as we smiled in accepting that it was a gift from God, we sure were happy to find that it was only a little humor from our Heavenly Father.
More than humor, after getting off of the emotional roller coaster of having our world a little shaken by an unplanned pregnancy, we were able to take a better look at our life, the way it is here and now and really appreciate every little thing about our family. Now it seems as though each individual child has taken on a much stronger persona in knowing that Ainsley is our baby (the last), Ava Marie is our "middle child," and Austin is our "one and only" boy. Our enjoyment level of the AAA's has "tripled". We are now able to press on knowing that "this is it", so we need to pour all that we have into them and do all that we can to love them and point them towards Christ. And if we accomplish that, we can do no wrong.
When it comes to my posts, I write mainly about my children. It brings me much joy when writing about my beloved three known as the (AAA)'s. I write to capture the memories that may one day slip my mind. I write to share the joy of living the beautiful God-given life of freedom through Jesus Christ, and raising them in a Christian home. Lastly, I write to preserve the moments I have experienced that leave impressions on me as an individual, a mother and also on that of my husband and children.
Austin, Ava Marie and Ainsley, bring so much life and love to mine and Brandon's world. We often ask ourselves, what would we do without any of them. Each one fits so perfectly into our family and we are reminded daily of how blessed we are. First thing in the morning usually one if not two little fuzzy blonde heads will appear next to our bed. Sometimes it catches me by surprise as I think I hear breathing and turn my head only to witness two black eyes looking straight into mine. Ava's just tall enough for her eyes to meet mine as she stands beside my bed giving me my morning wake up. If its Austin waking first, I usually will get a couple of blankets tossed on top of me prior to him hoisting himself up onto our bed to snuggle in between. For now, Ainsley chills in her crib until I come get her. Soon she will join her sibs and be the third fuzzy head to show up next to our bed with yet another unique morning wakening. We are reminded of how much we are blessed not only from the moment they wake us up in the wee hours of morning, but throughout the day and after the bedtime rush is over. When we flop down onto our favorite spots in the upstairs loft, we sigh a breath of relief knowing they're tucked in snug for another night. We reflect on their cute little phrases or happenings of the days events. I will share with Brandon when one did something naughty, but also share as much as I can remember that was incredibly cute. It is then that we laugh, smile and silently thank God for our beloveds. The three little humans sent down to us from up above to make our life the blessing that it is today.
We recently made the heartfelt and prayerful decision to stop bringing babies into the world. Brandon scheduled himself the surgery and without a doubt in our minds we ended the possibility of us ever having anymore children. The decision to do this took longer for me to accept than him, but after assessing and realizing what it takes to invest quality time into each individual (A), it didnt take long for me to see that it was the right thing for us to do and if we were wrong and it needed to be tweaked, God still had control.
Our childbearing years have truly been an amazing experience for Brandon and I. My pregnancies have been healthy and fairly easy. My deliveries were even easier. Brandon calls it strange amnesia when I forget so quickly of the pain I experienced during delivery and how eager I am to do it again as though it was a walk in the park. Those moments of meeting my babies face to face for the first time are three of the most precious memories ever to be imprinted in my mind.
A few days before Brandon's surgery, one little line threw us for a loop and put us on a wild roller coaster ride of feelings and emotions that we didn't know what do to with. For about a week I had dreams and symptoms that I was pregnant, so we purchased a pregnancy test for when the time came. We wanted to have fast access, to ease our minds as soon as possible avoiding any unnecessary worry. That morning I woke up and knew I could no longer wait to find out what was going on with my body. I took a test that didn't work. It was a dud. It showed us nothing. I allowed it to give me peace of mind for most of the morning, as I took the kids to the playground where they had a great time playing and laughing until the black clouds brought it all to a halt, warning us to head home before the downpour.
With the rain falling down, the triple A's and I were destined for an afternoon in the confides of our living room. I found myself to be so sluggish and tired on this very day. This is very much out of my character so I thought it could quite possibly be an indication that something is not right. After sitting on the floor for some time while the kids crawled all over me, giggling and playing, I began to feel very maternal and thought, "Gee, I haven't done this with my kids in a long time. I some times get so busy cleaning house, doing laundry and things pertaining to my life, that I forget to take the time just to sit and enjoy their playfulness." Along with that, I also thought, "This is what I'm like when I'm pregnant!...Ahhh!!" So I abandoned the kids in the living room and rushed upstairs to take the other test left in the box of two. When I did...I COULD NOT BELIEVE MY EYES. It had a vague blue line perpendicular to the first solid blue line, creating a positive sign. How could this happen??? I was in shock. Austin asked me what was wrong and I told him in a shaky voice, "Nothing, mummies just about ready to have nervous breakdown." He looked at me strangely and decided not to attempt another shot at that question. I couldn't wait for Brandon to get home. I had to call him on the phone. I worried about him having an accident as he was in the car driving, but I was losing my mind just sitting waiting to tell him! His immediate response was, " It can't be! I'm stopping and buying you another test." I explained to him what I always knew to be true and that was that the test can't be wrong if it shows the positive line. It can only be wrong if its negative in a case where the hCg hormone is not quite strong enough to show up.
Brandon and I spent the whole evening and next day in shock.. So many thoughts running through our minds. How were we going to give them all the time and attention each rightfully deserved and needed? How would we afford it? How would we fly to visit family? One thought led to another. I had just begun to teach Zumba and was looking into it as a great second income to help pay for some upcoming expenses. Unfortunately, I need my body for that and instead would be lending it to a little person for nine months plus!! Brandon now had to consider putting not three but four kids through college.. and the the gender thought.... If it was another girl... that would mean three weddings! and oh the hormones! Too many females under one roof!! AHHHHHHH. Then, like a slow walk down a very steep cliff we began to rationalize and realize that this baby was a gift. A blessing from God. Another chicky to add to our nest of love. An answer to prayer from a question we had asked months ago discerning how many children we should have. We both always thought about how perfect it would be to have two of each and maybe this would be our second boy!
This was quite an event in our lives, but to make a long story short and turn it around 180 degrees, I'm not pregnant and not expecting a fourth child after all! After researching and looking into the possibilities of false positives, I decided to take another test. Just in case. Brandon was certain that it would be negative, but I was certain it was right the first time and would only confirm once again our news of a fourth child. Well, the test was negative and I couldn't believe it! We felt like a load of bricks had been lifted off of our shoulders and we had been given a second chance! I know, I know, it was just another baby, but as much as we smiled in accepting that it was a gift from God, we sure were happy to find that it was only a little humor from our Heavenly Father.
More than humor, after getting off of the emotional roller coaster of having our world a little shaken by an unplanned pregnancy, we were able to take a better look at our life, the way it is here and now and really appreciate every little thing about our family. Now it seems as though each individual child has taken on a much stronger persona in knowing that Ainsley is our baby (the last), Ava Marie is our "middle child," and Austin is our "one and only" boy. Our enjoyment level of the AAA's has "tripled". We are now able to press on knowing that "this is it", so we need to pour all that we have into them and do all that we can to love them and point them towards Christ. And if we accomplish that, we can do no wrong.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Fresh New Beginnings and Honorable Endings
We just recently took a trip to Virginia for Brandon to graduate for the final time. He graduated valedictorian of his high-school class in 2000, and here eleven years later, marched down the aisle of Liberty University's football field with high distinctions of a 4.0. More importantly, this time he had three adoring children watching him from the sidelines with faces beaming in pride for their Daddy. Well, at least two of them were beaming in pride. Ainsley was probably just beaming due to the mess she was producing in her pants:) impeccable timing as usual:)
The night before graduation, Brandon had his regalia out in preparation for the following day. Ava who is never short for sentimental words, couldn't help but want to touch, hold and wear the gold medallion Brandon had around his neck. "What's this Daddy?" she asked. Brandon explained that if she worked really hard in school then she would one day get rewarded for it. Ava's response to this was priceless as she told her daddy, in her squeaky little voice, "Oh Daddy! I'm so proud of jous!" No, "jous is not a typo. It is actually pronounced "jews" by the sweet Ave Marie, and what she really means to say is "you". I love how kids all have their own dialect that usually only the parents can understand. Ava has a pocket full of these odd sounding words, but she can really strike up a good understandable conversation if you perk her interest.
I love seeing Brandon interact with the kids in a relaxed atmosphere and by relaxed, I mean away from it all. He didn't have to worry about preparing a message, and as far as the administration of the church went, his phone was not picking up signals! (silent laugh on my end:) And there was absolutely no internet available to us in our area of stay. This basically left him with nothing to do but enjoy his kids and have memorable moments such as the one with Ava, which he will never forget.
This past year, Brandon has spent most of his short-winded free time completing his doctoral thesis, Communicate to Captivate: Nine Tools and Techniques in Communicating to the 21st Century Audience. While Brandon was completing this book for his final degree, our little man Austin was working on his first year of school, learning to read and write for himself! Sending him off to school was not an easy event for me. My first born who had never been away from mommy was being sent off to a strange place, with unfamiliar faces and new approaches to life which him and I both had reservations as to how he would handle them. He was entering into a new stage of life we all know as the school years.
We just celebrated Austin's fifth birthday and it seems as though it was only yesterday that we were bringing him home from Virginia Baptist Hospital. Like a fragile valuable, we carried him into our home, laid him down gently, and just gazed upon him in all his preciousness. What an amazing little miracle God had blessed us with and what a huge responsibility we now held in our arms, unlike any we had ever experienced in our lives! The very moment the doctor put him on my chest I was overflowing with feelings of love and anxiety. I remember thinking, how would I ever allow this little bundle to leave my sight? I knew there would come a day when I would have to send him off to preschool, and even further... college! How would I cope?
Fast forwarding to the present, I have now learned that when my eyes aren't on Austin, God's eyes are and He will take care of my baby boy. He knew the exact people to put in Austin's life for his first endeavors without me, and he made it through with flying colors, never shedding a tear and never concerned that I wasn't there with him every step of the way.
Austin has now completed his first year of school, and we couldn't be more proud of our little man! As He marched down the aisle of First United Methodist Church, Brandon and I watched from the pews, faces beaming in pride, knowing our little man was not really finishing school, but just beginning! He was now heading down the long road of education that will continue on for the next 16 plus years of his life! With baby steps Austin will gradually become more independent from me and I will learn to let go little by little, year to year as he graduates to each new stage of life.
2011 will be a year to remember and reflect on, years from now, as we look back to how far we have come as a family. Brandon's long line of education has come to an end, while Austin's has only just begun! When traveling in our family van, someone will always pose the question, "Are we there yet?" We're almost never there at that moment. Taking the same approach to life, Brandon may be done with his schooling, but he is not there yet. He will continue to learn on a daily basis and seek wisdom as he moves through life as a husband, father, and communicator of God's word. As for the rest of us in the Park Party of Five, we'll be right there with him, growing, learning and moving through life where there is always a fresh new beginning to something, and prayerfully "Honorable Endings"!
The night before graduation, Brandon had his regalia out in preparation for the following day. Ava who is never short for sentimental words, couldn't help but want to touch, hold and wear the gold medallion Brandon had around his neck. "What's this Daddy?" she asked. Brandon explained that if she worked really hard in school then she would one day get rewarded for it. Ava's response to this was priceless as she told her daddy, in her squeaky little voice, "Oh Daddy! I'm so proud of jous!" No, "jous is not a typo. It is actually pronounced "jews" by the sweet Ave Marie, and what she really means to say is "you". I love how kids all have their own dialect that usually only the parents can understand. Ava has a pocket full of these odd sounding words, but she can really strike up a good understandable conversation if you perk her interest.
I love seeing Brandon interact with the kids in a relaxed atmosphere and by relaxed, I mean away from it all. He didn't have to worry about preparing a message, and as far as the administration of the church went, his phone was not picking up signals! (silent laugh on my end:) And there was absolutely no internet available to us in our area of stay. This basically left him with nothing to do but enjoy his kids and have memorable moments such as the one with Ava, which he will never forget.
This past year, Brandon has spent most of his short-winded free time completing his doctoral thesis, Communicate to Captivate: Nine Tools and Techniques in Communicating to the 21st Century Audience. While Brandon was completing this book for his final degree, our little man Austin was working on his first year of school, learning to read and write for himself! Sending him off to school was not an easy event for me. My first born who had never been away from mommy was being sent off to a strange place, with unfamiliar faces and new approaches to life which him and I both had reservations as to how he would handle them. He was entering into a new stage of life we all know as the school years.
We just celebrated Austin's fifth birthday and it seems as though it was only yesterday that we were bringing him home from Virginia Baptist Hospital. Like a fragile valuable, we carried him into our home, laid him down gently, and just gazed upon him in all his preciousness. What an amazing little miracle God had blessed us with and what a huge responsibility we now held in our arms, unlike any we had ever experienced in our lives! The very moment the doctor put him on my chest I was overflowing with feelings of love and anxiety. I remember thinking, how would I ever allow this little bundle to leave my sight? I knew there would come a day when I would have to send him off to preschool, and even further... college! How would I cope?
Fast forwarding to the present, I have now learned that when my eyes aren't on Austin, God's eyes are and He will take care of my baby boy. He knew the exact people to put in Austin's life for his first endeavors without me, and he made it through with flying colors, never shedding a tear and never concerned that I wasn't there with him every step of the way.
Austin has now completed his first year of school, and we couldn't be more proud of our little man! As He marched down the aisle of First United Methodist Church, Brandon and I watched from the pews, faces beaming in pride, knowing our little man was not really finishing school, but just beginning! He was now heading down the long road of education that will continue on for the next 16 plus years of his life! With baby steps Austin will gradually become more independent from me and I will learn to let go little by little, year to year as he graduates to each new stage of life.
2011 will be a year to remember and reflect on, years from now, as we look back to how far we have come as a family. Brandon's long line of education has come to an end, while Austin's has only just begun! When traveling in our family van, someone will always pose the question, "Are we there yet?" We're almost never there at that moment. Taking the same approach to life, Brandon may be done with his schooling, but he is not there yet. He will continue to learn on a daily basis and seek wisdom as he moves through life as a husband, father, and communicator of God's word. As for the rest of us in the Park Party of Five, we'll be right there with him, growing, learning and moving through life where there is always a fresh new beginning to something, and prayerfully "Honorable Endings"!
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Just a Mud Mum Trudging along in the Fun Run of Life.
One thing I have discovered about myself in the past couple of weeks, is that I am incapable of blogging or any form of writing if my house is dirty and out of order. So I am revealing that my house has been in rough shape for a while now, giving me a boggled thought process and disabling my ability to write for three whole weeks! Not entirely, but there is a good amount of truth to that. What really has kept me away from my blogging is sickness..and chaos. From Immunizations to Emergency Rooms and Urgent Care's to sick visits, it's all been enough to make one's head spin. Never the less, we got through it. Praise God! Once I finally got my house back in order, cleaned and sanitized from millions of germs, and my last piece of laundry was folded, I sat down and could finally see through the cloudiness of my mind to find something juicy to type on a screen. I really wasn't feeling the idea and drab of writing about sickness, so I chose to enlighten you with the Mud Mom experience...
I recently completed a 5K race with a group of four other moms. This wasn't an ordinary race, It involved some deep mud and seemingly difficult obstacles. Brandon thought it to be quite intriguing that any woman would want to attempt such a challenge of trudging through the mud while hurdling obstacles and trying to run a race. Let alone five moms! The truth is, the obstacles we face as moms on a daily basis are nothing short of what this little competition entailed. The only difference was (and I think I can speak for all of the moms that ran) is that we had a tad bit more fun with this particular event then the normal hum drum routine of our everyday life.
The mud didn't phase us even though we were covered from head to toe. As a mother, we've all had days where we look as though we've been through the wringer by the time our husbands walk through the door. After having dealt with sick kids, nothing really tops being covered in puke thats not your own, or receiving a lovely streak of mucous on the shoulder from an unwiped nose that made it to your shirt before getting to a tissue. Then there's the everyday oatmeal from breakfast, the spaghetti sauce from a messy meal at dinner, paint from an art activity, and you have to love those muddy handprints from some good old fasioned outside play.
With all that absorbed and in mind, the mud was just dirt under the rug for we moms:-) In a moms eyes, there's nothing that a little bit of soap, bleach and oxy-clean can't fix. A true mom is not afraid of a little dirt under the nails. On that note, a pedicure would be very much appreciated by my feet after this wild ride I took them on through the muck and grime, that was not only friendly with my feet, but unpleasantly intimate with my eyes, teeth and ears! This is not likely to happen though, seeing where just about every pedicure I have had was in the event of carrying an eight month old baby, in preparation for delivery day. I always thought it would be courteous to the doctor and nurses to have at least one aspect of my body looking primp and proper for the special event! Only the doctor who delivered (A)2 (A)3 didn't deserve even a single painted toenail, but that's another story for another time:)
The running aspect of this muddy event was the best part! As a mom, its rare to find the time to go out for a jog, or anything peaceful and rejuvenating for that matter, so a good run can be free spirited and refreshing. Refreshing to the ears with the liberty to listen to our own music without the blurb excerpts of a sibling squabble about who had the toy, snack, or seat first.. It can be refreshing to the mind giving a break from that sweet but persistent little voice repetitively echoing in your ear only to mess up your thought process just as your in the middle of something pensive. And it is a refreshing freedom to the body to have the opportunity to do what it wants, free of little hands tugging it this direction and pulling it that. Among many other things a mom's tough body endures in the act of becoming a mom, a 3 mile run is just a walk in the park (without the kids of course:)
For The Mud Moms, this run was nothing short of a fun event to look forward to just for the get away experience! For one very early morning and for a small amount of time, we weren't at home tackling dirty laundry or dishes. We weren't corralling kids around the dinner table to face the challenge of forcing them to eat something that they just dont feel hungry for, or arguing with them about what to wear or where we're going and why. We were simply running in the mud... no worries, no cares, just running. The only thing we had to be aware of was the obstacles we would approach every half mile, that would be small beans compared to some of the motherly challenges we face on a daily basis. Some of the obstacles consisted of crawling through a tunnel, while others were more of a pull yourself up hanging from a rope, kind of challenge. Either way, there was nothing a mud mom couldn't handle. With our hard core determination, competitive spirits, and willingness to complete the race, we meddled together and finished strong with smiles on our faces and mud in our teeth:)
In Speaking of a mom's determination and willingness to complete the race. I ask myself," What exactly is it that gives me the drive and determination to press on, as a mom?" Well, I can't begin to give anyone credit, without first acknowledging my Heavenly Father and Savior for giving me every ounce of anything I have in me to sustain in this life. Apart from Him, there is one other person here on earth, whom, if ever I get stumped and feel like giving up, I can't do so without thinking of how hardcore she was and is. She has given me the determination to do the best that I can do because she didn't give my sisters and I anything less than the best of herself. She may not have competed in mud runs, but she is the reason I must press on because if she could do it, then there is no reason why I can't. Thank you Mom and to all of the mothers out there reading! Thank YOU for giving your best and all that you have sacrificed for your babies! Happy Mothers Day!
I recently completed a 5K race with a group of four other moms. This wasn't an ordinary race, It involved some deep mud and seemingly difficult obstacles. Brandon thought it to be quite intriguing that any woman would want to attempt such a challenge of trudging through the mud while hurdling obstacles and trying to run a race. Let alone five moms! The truth is, the obstacles we face as moms on a daily basis are nothing short of what this little competition entailed. The only difference was (and I think I can speak for all of the moms that ran) is that we had a tad bit more fun with this particular event then the normal hum drum routine of our everyday life.
The mud didn't phase us even though we were covered from head to toe. As a mother, we've all had days where we look as though we've been through the wringer by the time our husbands walk through the door. After having dealt with sick kids, nothing really tops being covered in puke thats not your own, or receiving a lovely streak of mucous on the shoulder from an unwiped nose that made it to your shirt before getting to a tissue. Then there's the everyday oatmeal from breakfast, the spaghetti sauce from a messy meal at dinner, paint from an art activity, and you have to love those muddy handprints from some good old fasioned outside play.
With all that absorbed and in mind, the mud was just dirt under the rug for we moms:-) In a moms eyes, there's nothing that a little bit of soap, bleach and oxy-clean can't fix. A true mom is not afraid of a little dirt under the nails. On that note, a pedicure would be very much appreciated by my feet after this wild ride I took them on through the muck and grime, that was not only friendly with my feet, but unpleasantly intimate with my eyes, teeth and ears! This is not likely to happen though, seeing where just about every pedicure I have had was in the event of carrying an eight month old baby, in preparation for delivery day. I always thought it would be courteous to the doctor and nurses to have at least one aspect of my body looking primp and proper for the special event! Only the doctor who delivered (A)2 (A)3 didn't deserve even a single painted toenail, but that's another story for another time:)
The running aspect of this muddy event was the best part! As a mom, its rare to find the time to go out for a jog, or anything peaceful and rejuvenating for that matter, so a good run can be free spirited and refreshing. Refreshing to the ears with the liberty to listen to our own music without the blurb excerpts of a sibling squabble about who had the toy, snack, or seat first.. It can be refreshing to the mind giving a break from that sweet but persistent little voice repetitively echoing in your ear only to mess up your thought process just as your in the middle of something pensive. And it is a refreshing freedom to the body to have the opportunity to do what it wants, free of little hands tugging it this direction and pulling it that. Among many other things a mom's tough body endures in the act of becoming a mom, a 3 mile run is just a walk in the park (without the kids of course:)
For The Mud Moms, this run was nothing short of a fun event to look forward to just for the get away experience! For one very early morning and for a small amount of time, we weren't at home tackling dirty laundry or dishes. We weren't corralling kids around the dinner table to face the challenge of forcing them to eat something that they just dont feel hungry for, or arguing with them about what to wear or where we're going and why. We were simply running in the mud... no worries, no cares, just running. The only thing we had to be aware of was the obstacles we would approach every half mile, that would be small beans compared to some of the motherly challenges we face on a daily basis. Some of the obstacles consisted of crawling through a tunnel, while others were more of a pull yourself up hanging from a rope, kind of challenge. Either way, there was nothing a mud mom couldn't handle. With our hard core determination, competitive spirits, and willingness to complete the race, we meddled together and finished strong with smiles on our faces and mud in our teeth:)
In Speaking of a mom's determination and willingness to complete the race. I ask myself," What exactly is it that gives me the drive and determination to press on, as a mom?" Well, I can't begin to give anyone credit, without first acknowledging my Heavenly Father and Savior for giving me every ounce of anything I have in me to sustain in this life. Apart from Him, there is one other person here on earth, whom, if ever I get stumped and feel like giving up, I can't do so without thinking of how hardcore she was and is. She has given me the determination to do the best that I can do because she didn't give my sisters and I anything less than the best of herself. She may not have competed in mud runs, but she is the reason I must press on because if she could do it, then there is no reason why I can't. Thank you Mom and to all of the mothers out there reading! Thank YOU for giving your best and all that you have sacrificed for your babies! Happy Mothers Day!
Friday, April 15, 2011
My Sour Patch Kids
The first time I saw this commercial, it really struck my funny bone. It still makes me laugh.. and even more now... I'll tell you why. For those who couldn't pull up the link, it is a commercial for the candy called, Sour Patch Kids. In this clip, an animated piece of candy who cuts a girls hair off maliciously then takes a 180 degree turn to becoming sweet and cuddly as it warms up to its victim by hugging her leg. How strange that someone thought up such a profound commercial for a simple candy only to reveal the two tastes of sour and sweet that the candy dually offers.
Sour Patch kids happens to be one of the many candies that my husband and I really enjoy. It's actually one of our favorites! At our first home we lived in in Virginia, I had this one drawer that I managed to always keep filled with all of our favorite candy. We would dig into it prior to watching a movie and it was great for when we had friends over to watch with us! Yes, Brandon and I both share a childish love for sour candy. Ironically, most of our friends have a taste for the same sugary snacks that we like. Some have asked us to this day if we still have our candy drawer. We tell them we do, only now it is in a very high hiding spot that only a dwarf with super hero powers could get to. Our dwarfs have powers, but they're no super heroes. :-) Besides the fact that our candy drawer has changed location, it also has a new feature added to it. It now has chocolate! Brandon doesnt care much for chocolate and I hated chocolate as a child, but for some strange reason after I gave birth to my first baby girl I became a chocolate fanatic. I now have a chocolate stash, in addition to our sour candy stash which is primarily my husbands. :-)
What does this have to do with our children? Well, I am pretty sure that I ate a few too many of these while I was pregnant, because I have given birth to three Sour Patch Kids! (an orange one, a green one, and a yellow one, to be precise). They are all very sweet, but they have a very sour side to them and I am not talking about aged milk. These kids can turn in the blink of an eye, and its usually when you least expect it. Speaking of eyes... the other day I told Austin I could see everything he was doing because I had eyes in the back of my head. I told him they were hiding under my hair. Busting out laughing he said, "Mom, thats silly. You'd look like an alien if you had eyes there. Pull your hair up and let me see." He was a little unsure as to whether I was serious or not. I think he knows now... I hope.
Austin is my orange Sour Patch Kid. He is not the most sour one in the bunch, but never the less, still has a bite to him. He can be very aggressive towards his sister, he can be playing and laughing with her one moment and then lashing out at her the next minute for taking his seat in the van. He will pull hair and punch, even though he looks like he doesn't have it in him. I only wish that this sour side, would kick into action out on the soccer field. He has skills, but is not very aggressive. If he could take the same aggressive behavior he has towards his sister and put it into his efforts on the field, he just might be a star player one day! Until then, I'll be biting my tongue on the side lines as he allows the ball to roll right past him. He is also very much a teddy bear. He looks like one and he even acts like one most of the time. He has a very thoughtful side to him and is very much concerned about others especially those he loves.
Ava Marie is my green Sour Patch Kid. Yes, the most sour one in the bag, but a favorite of many. She is the one that makes me laugh so hard at the commercial above. She is the most like the kid that cuts the hair and then immediately following, tries to butter up to you. Ava will kick, scream, throw tantrums, push and shove. She is very determined and I think this will take her far someday, if we can get her on the right path first and foremost. My fear with her is that one of these days she's going to come cut a chunk out of my hair when I'm not looking. I think my sour side would ferociously appear instantly if that ever happened, so lets just hope it doesn't! :-) Like her brother, Ava can be very sweet. She has this tiny little voice sounding as though she sucked up a balloon full of helium when she talks. She is so caring and loving to Ainsley. She likes to pretend that she is Ainsley's mommy, which is fine for Ainsley, but Austin is not too fond of it when she tries to mother him. Such a cute bunch they are.
Ainsley is my yellow sour patch kid. At a very young age, she already has a pucker to her. It's actually something new, this sour side, that she has recently picked up, and its probably due to residing in the same bag with the green kid. Ainsley has developed a hitting and swatting problem. She has always had some defensive mechanisms to her, but lately if she becomes at odds with her sibs or even me, she will just swing out and slap her opposer. My first inclination is to laugh, but this could become serious for the little 'gangsta' if the problem at hand, (no pun intended) inclines and continues as she grows bigger and stronger. She is a cuddle bug though. She's mostly a mellow yellow Sour Patch Kid. She hasn't given us too many problems yet. One thing that does concern me is her kissable face, but not too worried, because if it does stay as kissable when she becomes a teen, hopefully she'll put her slap into action to keep the boys off of her.
This blog has been a little rough on the AAA's so I will end it by saying they really are sweet kids. Brandon and I love them all and each of their unique personalities more than words can ever express. We love both their sweet sides and their sour sides, and just for the record, all of our kids share the same love for this sugary snack as we do. Even Ainsley has tried this sour candy at only a year old, due to the 'sweet' side of her sister who decided to share one with her. I'm yet to find a candy my kids don't love, but glad that we can all share in the sweet and sour enjoyment of Sour Patch Kids, the number one candy for the home of the Parks, Party of Five!!
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Gold Teeth, Bras, Mud Baths and Filet Mignon! What could this all mean?
I have been trying to pursue a goal of posting every Thursday. On April 7th, I did not meet that goal, but I cannot let the week pass me by without taking the opportunity to share just a few enlightenments from the past few days. I usually find time to write after the kids go to bed, especially on Wednesday nights, as Brandon doesn't usually arrive home until midnight, so I have the quiet house to myself. Due to this unusual week, after putting the kids to bed, I've found myself cleaning up the kitchen, doing some laundry, and then dragging my feet to the beckoning of my beloved bed. Oh how I love that bed, especially after long endless days. I don't even know where to begin, but I guess the first of the week is a great start...
It was going to be a long evening and we were out of milk and diapers. I would usually go to the nearest Publix for such essentials, but diapers are always cheaper elsewhere so I ventured out to Wally World with all three A's. Walmart in Homestead is probably one of my least favorite places to visit due to the high volume of interesting people you find there. I usually will put in an effort to get all three kids safe and sound in the shopping cart, where I dont have to worry so intensely about them getting snatched. This also puts a limit on how much I can throw in the cart. Three kids in one cart doesn't leave a whole lot of room for much of anything. On this particular evening Austin and Ava both wanted to be outside of the cart so I gave them a chance. They did alright at first, but as their energy accelerated, they began to stray further away from me and I finally had to stop them and say in my most serious lecture-type voice, "Do you see all of these people? One of them is a bad man, but I don't know which one it is, and you don't want to find out." You could literally see the fear in Austin's eyes after I said this. Austin and Ava's definition of a bad man is, A very bad person who will take me from mommy and daddy when they're not around and never bring me back. I know it sounds harsh to put such a scary thought in the mind of a child, but it really does work for them, and if it keeps them a little more safe in this dangerous place we live in then its kosher. From that point on, they clung close to me. When it was time to check out, it didn't surprise me when all twenty of the lines had at least six or seven people backed up with full carts, but it did give me a feeling of hopelessness like I was never going to get out of this hectic place. It ended up taking 45 minutes to get through the check out line. As I stood there, watching the milk drip with condensation and wondering if it would make it home before spoiling, the kids drooled over the candy rack. They must have sorted through, what seemed like, one-hundred different flavors and varieties requesting for me to pretty please purchase each one. Repeatedly they would keep going back to this particular gooey, sugar and food coloring gel candy that for some reason they both wanted. I was so weary and tired at that point, I caved and said yes to this child desirable treat that I later regretted getting them. Its always such a relief to return home after such a trip as the previous..to know I won't have to do it again for a little while, or at least until we run out of things..
Day two: Brandon has consistant meetings and appointments throughout the day, but its the ones at the end of the day that determine whether or not we will be eating dinner closer to six or seven. On this particular day, his meetings were backed up an hour or two. As dinner was blackening in the oven, I had the kids outside trying to wear them down, when a long came the meat man in his truck full of frozen meat. This man has been to my house numerous times trying to sell me his fresh seafood and lean steaks which he claims my neighbors consistantly buy and love. As he was going through his sales pitch, the kids managed to find some dirt to play in on the corner of our driveway. They didnt just play in it, they bathed in it. I was trying both to pay attention to Mr. Meat Man who was really starting to get on my nerves and keep track of all three children but when Ainsley waddled up to me looking like she'd just had some chocolate and a cigarette, I gave up and becoming a little delirious, I told him "Ok, why not" I was thinking maybe this would be one less trip to the grocery store, seeing where this meat looked as though it would last me a year.
Brandon walked through the door just as I was writing out the check with a dirty Ainsley on my hip. He had the most puzzled look on his face as there were two men standing in my kitchen and packing my freezer with meat. I didn't even have to tell him where the other kids were. All he had to do was look down at the dirty trail leading to the bathroom where you could hear the mud flying. Brandon was not happy about the meat purchase. And we were both a bit concerned when one of the men returned thirty minutes later with Brandon's iPhone that he "claimed" must have stuck onto one of the meat boxes..??? After the kids had gone to bed I started regretting my 168 dollar purchase. To make a long story short, the following day I got online and determined to make these meats worth while. I found a great recipe for balsamic tuna steaks that I cooked to Brandon's liking and to ease my conscience about my unstable-minded purchase.
Day 3: In order for me to make the balsamic tuna steaks, I had to make yet another trip to the store to purchase some of the ingredients the recipe called for. So, the day after purchasing the meat and only two days after my last heinous trip to the store, I find myself having to make another round. I know Target has popcorn, so I thought, maybe I can bribe the kids with some popcorn to keep them all in the cart while I get what I need. One thing is absolute when I go to Target, and that is the fact that I love this store and always get more than what I need when I go there. With all three children in the cart I begin to walk past the bathing suits, shoes, and come across the bra and lingerie section. I stopped the cart for no longer than thirty seconds and the two oldest of the AAA's had climbed out of the cart, managed to get a bra over their heads and were twirling around singing, "I have boobies! I have boobies!" I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw this and neither could the woman down the isle who was bent over laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. What would possess a child to do such a thing?? I must have gone through at least three shades of pink, but I think they heard laughter in my voice when I told them to take them off and get back in the cart, because they ran off and I had to chase them through the lingerie section while Ainsley was chillin' in the cart with the popcorn all to herself. This trip to the store ended with me out of breath and the kids wound up tighter than ticks by the time we got home.
The adventures of the week did not stop at Target. I could still write about the event where the garage door was going up with a screaming Ava Marie clung to the side, or how the box of Trix cereal got from the top of my pantry to covering my kitchen floor. Oh, and I can't forget the gold toothed black man who showed up in my driveway, on a bike, as I was vacuuming out the van. The kids were outside with me, so I with my vacuum being the only weapon I had to use as a defense, had to think of a way to corral my kids to a safe haven while keeping the non-lucid man a good distance from myself...This put the icing on the cake as part of my unbelievable week, but these stories and their details will have to wait for another blog another time. For now I am just going to rejoice in the fact that this week can never repeat itself ever again but as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, there will always be crazy people, crazy acting kids, and crazy sales men, helping to make this world more of a CRAZY place!!
It was going to be a long evening and we were out of milk and diapers. I would usually go to the nearest Publix for such essentials, but diapers are always cheaper elsewhere so I ventured out to Wally World with all three A's. Walmart in Homestead is probably one of my least favorite places to visit due to the high volume of interesting people you find there. I usually will put in an effort to get all three kids safe and sound in the shopping cart, where I dont have to worry so intensely about them getting snatched. This also puts a limit on how much I can throw in the cart. Three kids in one cart doesn't leave a whole lot of room for much of anything. On this particular evening Austin and Ava both wanted to be outside of the cart so I gave them a chance. They did alright at first, but as their energy accelerated, they began to stray further away from me and I finally had to stop them and say in my most serious lecture-type voice, "Do you see all of these people? One of them is a bad man, but I don't know which one it is, and you don't want to find out." You could literally see the fear in Austin's eyes after I said this. Austin and Ava's definition of a bad man is, A very bad person who will take me from mommy and daddy when they're not around and never bring me back. I know it sounds harsh to put such a scary thought in the mind of a child, but it really does work for them, and if it keeps them a little more safe in this dangerous place we live in then its kosher. From that point on, they clung close to me. When it was time to check out, it didn't surprise me when all twenty of the lines had at least six or seven people backed up with full carts, but it did give me a feeling of hopelessness like I was never going to get out of this hectic place. It ended up taking 45 minutes to get through the check out line. As I stood there, watching the milk drip with condensation and wondering if it would make it home before spoiling, the kids drooled over the candy rack. They must have sorted through, what seemed like, one-hundred different flavors and varieties requesting for me to pretty please purchase each one. Repeatedly they would keep going back to this particular gooey, sugar and food coloring gel candy that for some reason they both wanted. I was so weary and tired at that point, I caved and said yes to this child desirable treat that I later regretted getting them. Its always such a relief to return home after such a trip as the previous..to know I won't have to do it again for a little while, or at least until we run out of things..
Day two: Brandon has consistant meetings and appointments throughout the day, but its the ones at the end of the day that determine whether or not we will be eating dinner closer to six or seven. On this particular day, his meetings were backed up an hour or two. As dinner was blackening in the oven, I had the kids outside trying to wear them down, when a long came the meat man in his truck full of frozen meat. This man has been to my house numerous times trying to sell me his fresh seafood and lean steaks which he claims my neighbors consistantly buy and love. As he was going through his sales pitch, the kids managed to find some dirt to play in on the corner of our driveway. They didnt just play in it, they bathed in it. I was trying both to pay attention to Mr. Meat Man who was really starting to get on my nerves and keep track of all three children but when Ainsley waddled up to me looking like she'd just had some chocolate and a cigarette, I gave up and becoming a little delirious, I told him "Ok, why not" I was thinking maybe this would be one less trip to the grocery store, seeing where this meat looked as though it would last me a year.
Brandon walked through the door just as I was writing out the check with a dirty Ainsley on my hip. He had the most puzzled look on his face as there were two men standing in my kitchen and packing my freezer with meat. I didn't even have to tell him where the other kids were. All he had to do was look down at the dirty trail leading to the bathroom where you could hear the mud flying. Brandon was not happy about the meat purchase. And we were both a bit concerned when one of the men returned thirty minutes later with Brandon's iPhone that he "claimed" must have stuck onto one of the meat boxes..??? After the kids had gone to bed I started regretting my 168 dollar purchase. To make a long story short, the following day I got online and determined to make these meats worth while. I found a great recipe for balsamic tuna steaks that I cooked to Brandon's liking and to ease my conscience about my unstable-minded purchase.
Day 3: In order for me to make the balsamic tuna steaks, I had to make yet another trip to the store to purchase some of the ingredients the recipe called for. So, the day after purchasing the meat and only two days after my last heinous trip to the store, I find myself having to make another round. I know Target has popcorn, so I thought, maybe I can bribe the kids with some popcorn to keep them all in the cart while I get what I need. One thing is absolute when I go to Target, and that is the fact that I love this store and always get more than what I need when I go there. With all three children in the cart I begin to walk past the bathing suits, shoes, and come across the bra and lingerie section. I stopped the cart for no longer than thirty seconds and the two oldest of the AAA's had climbed out of the cart, managed to get a bra over their heads and were twirling around singing, "I have boobies! I have boobies!" I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw this and neither could the woman down the isle who was bent over laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. What would possess a child to do such a thing?? I must have gone through at least three shades of pink, but I think they heard laughter in my voice when I told them to take them off and get back in the cart, because they ran off and I had to chase them through the lingerie section while Ainsley was chillin' in the cart with the popcorn all to herself. This trip to the store ended with me out of breath and the kids wound up tighter than ticks by the time we got home.
The adventures of the week did not stop at Target. I could still write about the event where the garage door was going up with a screaming Ava Marie clung to the side, or how the box of Trix cereal got from the top of my pantry to covering my kitchen floor. Oh, and I can't forget the gold toothed black man who showed up in my driveway, on a bike, as I was vacuuming out the van. The kids were outside with me, so I with my vacuum being the only weapon I had to use as a defense, had to think of a way to corral my kids to a safe haven while keeping the non-lucid man a good distance from myself...This put the icing on the cake as part of my unbelievable week, but these stories and their details will have to wait for another blog another time. For now I am just going to rejoice in the fact that this week can never repeat itself ever again but as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, there will always be crazy people, crazy acting kids, and crazy sales men, helping to make this world more of a CRAZY place!!
Thursday, March 31, 2011
The Rocking Chair
Ok, the secret is out...I am a sentimental person, especially when it comes to my babies. Contrary to that, I am also very serious about getting rid of clutter, or anything that is surviving in my house primarily to collect dust. Everyone's heard of the disorder known as hoarding...well, if there is an opposite disorder in which one removes from the house as much as one hoards, than I have that disorder. No not really, but almost.
On the other hand, I have kept, reused, washed and stored everything from my first baby shower with Austin until just recently, where I found myself in a battle between the sentiments and the "consinements." What to keep, and what to give away to consinement?
There were toys not being played with, baby paraphernalia unoccupied, and clothes Ainsley and Austin had outgrown that all needed desperately to find a new home. (Obviously Ava's clothes will be keepers until Ainsley passes through them.) It all sounds so simple; get rid of what you dont need, and keep what you do.. right? I'm sure every mother will understand what I am about to embark on....It is never easy to get rid of the unique things that were once a part of such a special era in the life of you and your child. This is the time that a mother's bond with her little person is the strongest. With that, I have managed to get rid of what we dont need, epecially the items which can always find residence in another family's infant-bound home, and keep just a few things of sentimental worth.
Upstairs in my closet sits three boxes that I will one day give to each of my children. Enclosed in the boxes are the outfits they wore home from the hospital, some booties, a plush toy, and brush etc. Each box is intricately packed with items from their "baby-life." I too have a box for myself with a few things they wont miss ;-)
There is one larger baby item that I will never part with, even after they've gone on to college and started their own careers and families... it is my rocking chair. This was something that was more mine then there's, but they all spent their share of time in it. Actually, some of the most significant times of bonding were spent in this chair -- precious, priceless moments, where I nursed and rocked my sweet little ones every night as they drifted off into dream land.
In, The Rocking Chair, I found time to pray over my babies for health, wisdom, and knowledge of God's love for them. I prayed for patience for myself in caring for them and rest for both of us as the night tarried on. As I rocked them, I would relish in the moment, memorizing every little thing about them, from the unique curves on their tiny faces to the distinct soft spots on their round little heads. When placed on my shoulder nothing was so sweet as the soothing sound of their breathing and little baby snores, it was always such a peaceful time of winding down after a very, very busy day (and increasingly busy with each additional child :-) And as I would lay them in to the comfort of their crib, I would take one last look before leaving the room in all of its peacefulness, and lift up a prayer to the Lord one more time to keep baby (A___) safe and sound through the night. Anyone who has ever experienced any of this knows the immensity of God's blessings.
I recently stopped nursing Ainsley shortly after her first birthday. Making it to a year is not an easy task for me, but I will say that this transition was bitter-sweet, and though I would love to anchor in the baby years for the rest of my life, things must move on. Babies become toddlers, and toddlers become rascals! I look forward to this new stage of having three walkers, three self-feeders and better yet, three independent potty-users! I can almost smell the freedom as Ainsley becomes more self-sufficient each and everyday! And once they are too old to be rocked and have moved on to taste freedom for themselves, I will still have my chair. And even in their absence, I will still cradle their worries, cares, and tears in my arms as I pray over them each night in my rocking chair.
On the other hand, I have kept, reused, washed and stored everything from my first baby shower with Austin until just recently, where I found myself in a battle between the sentiments and the "consinements." What to keep, and what to give away to consinement?
There were toys not being played with, baby paraphernalia unoccupied, and clothes Ainsley and Austin had outgrown that all needed desperately to find a new home. (Obviously Ava's clothes will be keepers until Ainsley passes through them.) It all sounds so simple; get rid of what you dont need, and keep what you do.. right? I'm sure every mother will understand what I am about to embark on....It is never easy to get rid of the unique things that were once a part of such a special era in the life of you and your child. This is the time that a mother's bond with her little person is the strongest. With that, I have managed to get rid of what we dont need, epecially the items which can always find residence in another family's infant-bound home, and keep just a few things of sentimental worth.
Upstairs in my closet sits three boxes that I will one day give to each of my children. Enclosed in the boxes are the outfits they wore home from the hospital, some booties, a plush toy, and brush etc. Each box is intricately packed with items from their "baby-life." I too have a box for myself with a few things they wont miss ;-)
There is one larger baby item that I will never part with, even after they've gone on to college and started their own careers and families... it is my rocking chair. This was something that was more mine then there's, but they all spent their share of time in it. Actually, some of the most significant times of bonding were spent in this chair -- precious, priceless moments, where I nursed and rocked my sweet little ones every night as they drifted off into dream land.
In, The Rocking Chair, I found time to pray over my babies for health, wisdom, and knowledge of God's love for them. I prayed for patience for myself in caring for them and rest for both of us as the night tarried on. As I rocked them, I would relish in the moment, memorizing every little thing about them, from the unique curves on their tiny faces to the distinct soft spots on their round little heads. When placed on my shoulder nothing was so sweet as the soothing sound of their breathing and little baby snores, it was always such a peaceful time of winding down after a very, very busy day (and increasingly busy with each additional child :-) And as I would lay them in to the comfort of their crib, I would take one last look before leaving the room in all of its peacefulness, and lift up a prayer to the Lord one more time to keep baby (A___) safe and sound through the night. Anyone who has ever experienced any of this knows the immensity of God's blessings.
I recently stopped nursing Ainsley shortly after her first birthday. Making it to a year is not an easy task for me, but I will say that this transition was bitter-sweet, and though I would love to anchor in the baby years for the rest of my life, things must move on. Babies become toddlers, and toddlers become rascals! I look forward to this new stage of having three walkers, three self-feeders and better yet, three independent potty-users! I can almost smell the freedom as Ainsley becomes more self-sufficient each and everyday! And once they are too old to be rocked and have moved on to taste freedom for themselves, I will still have my chair. And even in their absence, I will still cradle their worries, cares, and tears in my arms as I pray over them each night in my rocking chair.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
From the Sunday Morning Rest to the Sunday Morning Rush.
I remember as a young girl Sunday mornings with my family. It truly was a day of rest. Of course this was also twenty years ago. It was the one day of the week we could, if we chose to, sleep in. When I woke up, mom would often have bacon, eggs and pancakes cooking on the stove. Dad would usually be sitting in his recliner by the big picture window reading a book and sipping on a cup of Folgers. The aroma of the coffee would fill the house silently telling everyone it was morning and time to wake up. I think I drink coffee to this day just because of that familiar smell that takes me back.
At some point in the morning I would hear my two older sisters bickering for a spot in our quaint bathroom which was by no means fit for a family of four females. One of my sisters tells of her memory of the "single bathroom drama" in these words, " I know that as soon as she heard my feet hit the floor she would jump out of bed, race down the stairs and dash into the bathroom to stake claim on the shower". With some screaming, pushing and shoving, they always managed to get showered and beautified with still enough time to enjoy some of Marty Stoufers, "Wild America"on our box of three channels. When it was time for Sunday School, all five of us would squeeze into the family car, where the saga continued..In the absence of air conditioning, dad preferred the windows down, contrary to my sisters, who did not want their hair to be tampered with by the wind. This was true of every Sunday until fall and winter arrived. Praise the Lord for cold weather!
All of the battles and conflict were only a minute part of our Sunday morning routine. I can look back at them now and chuckle. One thing that will always be magnified to me is the restfulness of the day. After church we would go to "Grams" for cheeseburgers and salad, spend some time with family and then back home for a bike ride or swim in the lake. We were able to pack so much activity into one day and still return for another hour of church in the evening.
Let's fast forward to present day and leave the end of I-95 North to come to the end of I-95 South, and I literally do mean the "end." Two decades later and some distinct cultural and economical differences actually moves us ahead thirty years, from the Sunday Morning Rest to what I now call the, Sunday Morning Rush.
My husband Brandon is the senior pastor of a seemingly large church in South Miami. His Sunday mornings start at five AM. He is usually out of the house before the AAAs even open their little peepers, with the exception of my early bird Ava Marie. I will quietly but quickly get myself showered and dressed in my Sunday best before the party starts.. Yes thats right.. you read, "PARTY" and it is nothing short of a party. Let me enlighten you...
This past Sunday It was my darling Ainsley's first birthday and I had a new outfit for her along with matching outfits for the sibs. Ava was elated about her dress until she put it on to find that the bow on the front wasn't directly in the middle. It was off to the side. I feared the worst, but with some non-sparing of the rod, I managed to get her calmed down so we could then tackle the shoes. Ava likes one pair of shoes and it wasnt the pair I had in mind. I knew this wouldnt be easy but eventually, I had the Ava Marie fixed, primped and ready to go.
Ainsley was a little less difficult. My biggest obstacle with her always revolves around a simple diaper. As soon as the diaper comes off, she crawls away, giggling and laughing, with impeccable speed. Once changed and fresh, she hobbles into her outfit without to much of a fuss. She's pretty consistant and throws me no surprises.
This particular day, Austin was the straw that broke the camel's back. After setting the house alarm, locking up the house and latching in the girls to their carseats, I look down and discover to my surprise that Austin is in his bear feet. I bit my tongue, wiped the sweat off my forehead, and dashed inside for a quick pair of crocks, then back to the van, to peel out of the driveway.. :)
You see, all of these little mishaps take time, precious time that is hard to come by on Sunday morning. What our goal is for Sunday morning is to be out of the house by 8 AM. I have started a little Sunday morning tradition for the kids that I enjoy as much as they. I've tried to create something calming about the day that they can look back at as a pleasant family memory. Yes, daddy is missing from the picture, but some things we have no control over, so we make it work. What we look forward to every Sunday is something that all three of the A's equally love; a weekly visit to Panera Bread, where we all four enjoy our Cinnamon Crunch Bagel's with Honey Walnut Cream Cheese. Austin and Ava share one and I give Ainsley a chunk of mine which she takes with her tongue hanging out and her hands wide open. (she doesn't get the cream cheese:) They all sit like perfect angels who never give their mom any problems whatsoever, and cordially eat there bagel. I dont know how it is that they behave so pleasingly every Sunday morning at Panera, but they know if they don't, there wont be any more bagel stops.
I wipe their faces and into the van we go again to finish our trip to the church. I actually love being on the road in Miami on Sunday mornings, due to the rare mild traffic. Its the one day that I just might not get honked at and may have the road to myself for a moment.
From the smell of dads coffee, to a quick stop for a Bagel, its all about a childhood memory. Routines change no matter where we are, but its amazing how significantly time has changed one particular day of the week for our family.
At some point in the morning I would hear my two older sisters bickering for a spot in our quaint bathroom which was by no means fit for a family of four females. One of my sisters tells of her memory of the "single bathroom drama" in these words, " I know that as soon as she heard my feet hit the floor she would jump out of bed, race down the stairs and dash into the bathroom to stake claim on the shower". With some screaming, pushing and shoving, they always managed to get showered and beautified with still enough time to enjoy some of Marty Stoufers, "Wild America"on our box of three channels. When it was time for Sunday School, all five of us would squeeze into the family car, where the saga continued..In the absence of air conditioning, dad preferred the windows down, contrary to my sisters, who did not want their hair to be tampered with by the wind. This was true of every Sunday until fall and winter arrived. Praise the Lord for cold weather!
All of the battles and conflict were only a minute part of our Sunday morning routine. I can look back at them now and chuckle. One thing that will always be magnified to me is the restfulness of the day. After church we would go to "Grams" for cheeseburgers and salad, spend some time with family and then back home for a bike ride or swim in the lake. We were able to pack so much activity into one day and still return for another hour of church in the evening.
Let's fast forward to present day and leave the end of I-95 North to come to the end of I-95 South, and I literally do mean the "end." Two decades later and some distinct cultural and economical differences actually moves us ahead thirty years, from the Sunday Morning Rest to what I now call the, Sunday Morning Rush.
My husband Brandon is the senior pastor of a seemingly large church in South Miami. His Sunday mornings start at five AM. He is usually out of the house before the AAAs even open their little peepers, with the exception of my early bird Ava Marie. I will quietly but quickly get myself showered and dressed in my Sunday best before the party starts.. Yes thats right.. you read, "PARTY" and it is nothing short of a party. Let me enlighten you...
This past Sunday It was my darling Ainsley's first birthday and I had a new outfit for her along with matching outfits for the sibs. Ava was elated about her dress until she put it on to find that the bow on the front wasn't directly in the middle. It was off to the side. I feared the worst, but with some non-sparing of the rod, I managed to get her calmed down so we could then tackle the shoes. Ava likes one pair of shoes and it wasnt the pair I had in mind. I knew this wouldnt be easy but eventually, I had the Ava Marie fixed, primped and ready to go.
Ainsley was a little less difficult. My biggest obstacle with her always revolves around a simple diaper. As soon as the diaper comes off, she crawls away, giggling and laughing, with impeccable speed. Once changed and fresh, she hobbles into her outfit without to much of a fuss. She's pretty consistant and throws me no surprises.
This particular day, Austin was the straw that broke the camel's back. After setting the house alarm, locking up the house and latching in the girls to their carseats, I look down and discover to my surprise that Austin is in his bear feet. I bit my tongue, wiped the sweat off my forehead, and dashed inside for a quick pair of crocks, then back to the van, to peel out of the driveway.. :)
You see, all of these little mishaps take time, precious time that is hard to come by on Sunday morning. What our goal is for Sunday morning is to be out of the house by 8 AM. I have started a little Sunday morning tradition for the kids that I enjoy as much as they. I've tried to create something calming about the day that they can look back at as a pleasant family memory. Yes, daddy is missing from the picture, but some things we have no control over, so we make it work. What we look forward to every Sunday is something that all three of the A's equally love; a weekly visit to Panera Bread, where we all four enjoy our Cinnamon Crunch Bagel's with Honey Walnut Cream Cheese. Austin and Ava share one and I give Ainsley a chunk of mine which she takes with her tongue hanging out and her hands wide open. (she doesn't get the cream cheese:) They all sit like perfect angels who never give their mom any problems whatsoever, and cordially eat there bagel. I dont know how it is that they behave so pleasingly every Sunday morning at Panera, but they know if they don't, there wont be any more bagel stops.
I wipe their faces and into the van we go again to finish our trip to the church. I actually love being on the road in Miami on Sunday mornings, due to the rare mild traffic. Its the one day that I just might not get honked at and may have the road to myself for a moment.
From the smell of dads coffee, to a quick stop for a Bagel, its all about a childhood memory. Routines change no matter where we are, but its amazing how significantly time has changed one particular day of the week for our family.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
This Season in Life...
I'm really not sure if this blogging thing is going to be for me or not, but right now all I know is that "In this season of life" I have the most interesting material straight from the mouths of babes! My days are never boring or dull, only eventful and full of life!
The other day as I was driving back home from a beautiful day at the park, Ava and Ainsley had fallen asleep in there seats and Austin was, as usual, full of questions. This particular day the question was, "Mom, who came first, you or daddy?" I just knew there wouldn't be a quick easy way to answer this. It would take some effort and creative detail made into a long story, fit for a four year old. I came up with a quick plot of where his dad and I were born... met... fell in love... married and then grew a bump and named it Austin...He got so into the story that when I got to the third bump he finished the story and said, " and then came Ains!" It filled my heart with laughter and joy just to hear him say that. He calls his baby sister Ains, short for Ainsley.
I've always found it interesting to see how the next child changes the dynamics of ones family. When I was pregnant I would wonder what it would be like adding another sibling to the mix. Would Austin and Ava miss having more of my time, and attention? But when she came....I realized that in time they would never remember life without her. Austin, Ava, and Ainsley have a strong bond with each other that nothing could ever break, except for maybe a small toy, piece of candy, or the last Pop-Tart. I find it so intriguing how they can be loving and hugging one another in one moment and then screaming and pulling hair the next. Even Ainsley, who loves her brother and sister so unconditionally and has the blindest of faith in them, will swat a sassy paw at them if they're trying for a food item or toy that she doesn't want to give up.
All in all, they've got each others back, whether it be on the playground or in the home. When Brandon and I are disgruntled with one of them for how they've behaved while out in "public, the other one will almost always run to the accused to give comfort and support during times of punishment. I really do hope this continues straight through the teen years. Adolescent years are tough, and everyone needs a brother or sister to get through the toughest of this so-called thing known as life.
Brandon and I look forward to our future with the triple A's as we watch them grow and become more independent and less dependent on us to do everything for them; from tying their shoes to wiping their little bums. But, I do know I am going to miss these days of changing diapers, night wakes, and cries for mommy because she is the ONLY one who will do. The memories of today are priceless, so for now, I am cherishing every moment of this season. George Straight has a song that says it all in this phrase: "Life's not the breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away" I've had at least three of those moments when I gave birth to each of my little luv bugs.
I've always found it interesting to see how the next child changes the dynamics of ones family. When I was pregnant I would wonder what it would be like adding another sibling to the mix. Would Austin and Ava miss having more of my time, and attention? But when she came....I realized that in time they would never remember life without her. Austin, Ava, and Ainsley have a strong bond with each other that nothing could ever break, except for maybe a small toy, piece of candy, or the last Pop-Tart. I find it so intriguing how they can be loving and hugging one another in one moment and then screaming and pulling hair the next. Even Ainsley, who loves her brother and sister so unconditionally and has the blindest of faith in them, will swat a sassy paw at them if they're trying for a food item or toy that she doesn't want to give up.
All in all, they've got each others back, whether it be on the playground or in the home. When Brandon and I are disgruntled with one of them for how they've behaved while out in "public, the other one will almost always run to the accused to give comfort and support during times of punishment. I really do hope this continues straight through the teen years. Adolescent years are tough, and everyone needs a brother or sister to get through the toughest of this so-called thing known as life.
Brandon and I look forward to our future with the triple A's as we watch them grow and become more independent and less dependent on us to do everything for them; from tying their shoes to wiping their little bums. But, I do know I am going to miss these days of changing diapers, night wakes, and cries for mommy because she is the ONLY one who will do. The memories of today are priceless, so for now, I am cherishing every moment of this season. George Straight has a song that says it all in this phrase: "Life's not the breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away" I've had at least three of those moments when I gave birth to each of my little luv bugs.
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