{my} walk.

i had no idea {my} walk started the moment jd and i hesitantly agreed.  we'd never really heard of it before but both agreed that whatever it was, it was probably time.

and so it began.  a spiritual warfare of sorts beginning with my loving husband working what felt like endless double shifts, children who needed {this} and {that}, a new job with new twists and turns, demands and celebrations.  it all sort of amounted to a pile of tears and a heart that just.didn't.want.to.

i'm lazy like that.

after {loving} teenagers alllll day and then pouring out my heart and soul to my little family of {5}, there wasn't a whole lot left for god.and.i. 

sometimes i'd rather sit and veg in front of a mindless tv and absorb life through other's living than get up and work on mine.  that awesome little habit of 'watching life happen' began about a year ago and has slowly eaten away my insides since it's beginning. 

so picture it.  {my} walk with Christ.  {my} time to pick up my boot straps (or my blinged out tom's as it be) tether my soul to my pride and drag it to Spokane in hopes of meeting Christ face to face.  what would Christ want with me anyway?  i'd pretty much done a great job poisoning myself and i was pretty sure i'd be unrecognizable as far as He was concerned.

picture it.

a church i don't know filled with women i don't know. i am literally dropped off by my loving sponsors and fed to a crowd of friendly, unfamiliar faces.  i had a bunch of ice breaker 'boxes' to fill in and a quick glance over my choices solidified my feeling that i didn't belong.  ever made a sadle?  know how to crochet?  made a rhubarb pie in the past year?  i couldn't sign anyone's paper because i was looking for things like 'gets less than four hours of sleep every night' and 'is addicted to real housewives'.  clearly this room was closer to God than i.  was it too late to run???

i don't do well in situations like this.  i mean, i know i'm a teacher and all and that makes me probably a little more outgoing than most, but i would really just rather keep to myself and sit in the corner reading a book thank.you.very.much. :)

God had other plans.  He always does.  {thankfully}

you see, i needed a little more time to get my life in order a bit...you know, read the bible more regularly, have a better attitude about working in the nursery at church, and treat my husband a little nicer.  i mean, didn't God know that i {just} got a new job and we {just} celebrated 4 birthdays at my house?  we've been kinda busy and once i had my life a little more under control, i'd figure God would be a little more interested in why i was at the church waiting to meet him....

turns out, he was waiting for me.  and of course, he knew i'd come in an all screwed up kind of way.  he pretty much knows me like that.  so there I was, septic as all get out standing before the King with my own little agenda and a few questions in one hand and a box of tissues in the other.

-to be continued-

This boy.

My oldest-paving the path, all-American {boy}.

He's creative beyond the scope of my imagination. 

He can fix pretty much ANYthing.

He's innovative.

His heart still begs for answers to questions I can't even begin to describe.

He understands from a 'big picture' view that is for me, both refreshing and a great reminder.

He can't be bothered with letter sounds and names because he's simply too busy learning about how cooling lava builds new land and why Americans stormed the beach in Normandy.

He loves planes, trains, and automobiles....and tanks.

He has a difficult time catching a baseball but give him a staple gun or drill and now- there's a tool he can use.

They say you never really understand yourself until you have a kid just like you.  I don't know whose advice that is but as I'm getting deeper into this parenting role, I find that maybe it's a little true.  Ryan is nothing like me.  He's a spitting image of my amazing husband.  I have the most difficult time 'teaching' him because he is absolutely, hands-down, nothing like me. 

Ryan is intelligent.  He's bright.  He's inquisitive and he'll do amazing things.  Sometimes I forget that when we've read the word 'them' for the umpteenMILLIONth time and it's still not sinking in.  "Everyone's different" he'll often remind me and it's so darn true.  So.darn.true.

Cheers to different.

Cheers to bright futures.

Cheers to kids who teach their parents 'stuff'

Cheers to parents who don't give up.

...and what's weighing on my heart today...

Cheers to those who are raising amazing kids.  Cheers to those who are cheering one another on because if there's one thing I've learned on this parenting path, it's that we all need a little more{cheer}.

Gage and the {change}

Gage is our picky eater. I used to insist that he eat what I fix for him with no other options. It wasn't until he actually puked because of a particular food combination/texture that I opted for a plan 'b'. He still eats what we eat...but I try to separate things out for him. He's so quirky - but we wouldn't have it any other way! I'm really glad that he's trying new foods though...

-

Lately Gage has really been growing into his skin. It's so fun to watch your little {man} grow...up...and {in}. He's often referred to as our ornery kiddo...the challenge one...the dreaded title of "middle child". When he turned 3, I labeled him 'passionate'. I wasn't sure if we'd survive this fearsome fourth year, but I'm happy to report that we've all grown a little; Gage in particular.

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He's "listening to the good angel" a lot more often and insists in pointing out the bully in any conflict.

Fairness is important to Gage but he's still learning that 'fair' doesn't mean everybody gets the same thing; it means everyone gets what they need.

He prays/sings each night at dinner and beams with pride.

Sometimes I think Gage really does believe that he is a black knight - his imagination is FUN.

He stopped tormenting our dog.

He's obsessed with becoming an 'army dude' and responds really well when I tell him that army dudes obey their commands.

He almost always obeys his 'army commands'.

He does his chores - cheerfully (finally).

He really, really, really...wants to marry {me}. (melt)

He LOVES games; especially Go-Fish and Twister.

He has this little personality passion that makes my heart smile.

His facial expressions are completely adorable and hysterical.

He brushes his own teeth.

He has a photographic memory that stops JD and I in our tracks.

He's reading...and loving it.

He reads his bible and tells me about it.

He's learning what's good for his body...and what's good for his brain.

He's taken to Legos...especially StarWars and "Harry Partner".

I just love the {joyful life} behind those little eyes. And truthfully? I wouldn't want our orneriest, most passionate kid to be any other way.

Is Santa {really} Real?

We took the boys on the Polar Express train ride a while back. We knew it would include some make-believe along the way and the truth is, that's why we went.

-

We like make-believe around here. See:

There's something about the {magic} of make-believe; about the wonderment of 'anything is possible'. It ignites the eyes. It's pre-bills and pre-work.to.do and pre-sleeplessness and pre-bitterness and pre-, well, pre-adult. It's what {is} childhood. Don't I wish sometimes, to return to the land of make-believe? Maybe that's why I'm on this train.

I used to make-believe that I was Anne of Green Gables. I would wrap my parent's Christmas tree skirt around my waist and frolick through the fields. It made me just about this happy too:

To say we were excited about this train ride would be a pure, solid understatement. We were simply ecstatic. All of us.

Jaxson wasn't real sure what to expect. Afterall, it was his very first make-believe experience. He peered out the window, catching a fair dose of the contageous excitement from his brothers. What was to come? What was all this hub-bub about???

Does it pretty much boil down to this guy? Good 'ol Saint Nick in all his glory. What a guy!

He came aboard with his {redness}; even ringing bells and singing elves in tow. What a show. What a delite. What a {magical} evening for our family!

JD and I had decided we'd go along with the whole "Santa" thing for a while. The kids would get a Santa gift and we'd do the cookies and milk thing but it definitely wouldn't be a FOCUS of Christmas. I mean, JD and I both believed in Santa and turned out okay. I, admittedly embarassed, was a Santa-believer until at least 7th grade. Just when I'd share with my dad a tiny bit of skepticism, out would come the movie, 'Miracle on 34th St'. He believed; and so did I. I never asked...I just tried, on my own, to figure it out. Eventually, I did...about the same time I learned that the moon really wasn't made of cheese.

-

The problem with adopting this theory of Santa is that I don't have 'figure it out' kids. I have 'ask point blank' kids. I don't have little people who were like me. They don't share their skeptisism; they share their questions. They want answers. {Real} ones. This really screwed up the whole Santa plan we had going.

-

Fast forward to last Thursday. Christmas is long-gone. The celebration is waning, the decor is tucked away, and we're on to the New Year that January pushes us into. Ryan and I are driving home from school when another question conversation ensues:

-

Ryan: "Mom, is Santa real? I mean, is he {really} real?"

Me: "Well sure. Saint Nick was a real man who made real toys for real orphans a {really} long time ago." (I'm feeling proud of my response at this point).

Ryan: "No, I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about SANTA...and the sleigh, the reighndeer, and all of that....is that stuff REAL?"

Me: "Repeat of previous response" (maybe he just didn't hear me????)

Ryan: (Getting impatient) "No. What I want to know is, is Santa...in the red suit...at the North Pole with elves and stuff...is he {really} real or just FAKE?"

-

Long Pause (I'm thinking that we had this great plan. I mean, JD and I have gone back and forth about this whole Santa situation. How can you tell your kids that Santa and Jesus are BOTH {really} real when you only mean that Jesus is {really} real and Santa is {really} not real. But then again, we both turned out okay and have a strong faith foundation of Who Jesus is and who Santa {isn't}. But Jack's not here and I am so what the heck am I going to tell this kid who is asking me POINT blank for the T>R>U>T>H?)

-

Me: "No, Ryan. Santa at the N.Pole is NOT {really} real. He is make-believe. He and his elves are a fun pretend story that we like to make-believe because it's exciting to think about. But you know who {really} is real?

Ryan: "hmm?"

Me: "Jesus. He's {really} real. He {really} came to his Earth as an infant and died on a cross as payment for our sins so that we can go to heaven and live with Him there. He's {really} real and Santa is {really} make-believe.

-

Long Pause. Ryan's taking it in.

-

Ryan: "Um, mom? Can I ask you a question?"

Me: "Always."

Ryan: "Then...who ate the cookies?"

-

I used to think we had it kinda figured out. We could teach our kids the {truth} and make-believe at the same time. We had, after all, a plan. It's not that I think my parents (or JD's parents) did it wrong. They in fact, did a LOT right. But I think we just drew a different kind of kid-card. I reached a point in parenting when I simply could not, NOT tell the {truth}. I don't want them to grow into who they are believing that Santa will bring them anything they desire. The truth is, Santa is going to disappoint and it's kinda the tip of the iceberg.

-

Just ask Jaxson.

There's a place in the middle though. Santa's not bad. He's not the devil. Make-believe doesn't equal no faith. The truth is the truth and make-believe is make-believe. I'm thinking at this point, that maybe there's a little room for both so long as we know what's {really} real.

"Go big or go home." ~ mother of the year

I'm running out of space to store all of my "Mother of the Year" awards. There just simply aren't enough shelves and walls...

-
There's the time I accidentally sent Ryan to school with a bottle of wine in his backpack. Never mind that the wine was free from a wedding the Saturday before and never mind that I simply stuffed the contents of the entire car into Ryan's backpack when I was cleaning it. Whoops. I must have forgotten those 'contents' when I reminded Ryanie to grab his backpack on Monday morning. IT was pretty odd seeing a 7 year old grabbing a wine bottle around it's neck, scolding me for putting "alcohol in my lunch!". This little mis-hap could end with a Jeff Foxworthy's "Where's your sign?" but I think a Lisa McElroy's "Where will you hang {it}?" will suffice.
-
Or there's the time when he refused to eat his lunch and a para pro told me so. When I walked into the cafeteria to see what was up, Ryan was all up in sorts. So maybe, just maybe, I forgot to pack him a {new} lunch and he was staring at last Friday's (aka-sat in a hot car all weekend long) lunch. Whoops. "Where will you hang {it}?"
-
You should have seen Gage at his Christmas pageant a few nights ago. Never mind that he had his lines memorized. Or that he sang the songs beautifully-hand signals and all. The icing on the cake was when he gave JD the "rock on" sign when he spotted him and then began "machine-gunning" the audience. "Where, or where, for the love of mothers-of-the-year, will I hang {it}?"
-
Like I mentioned, mother.of.the.year. Seems to be a title that just hunts me down like Dog, the Bounty Dude.
-
It's me, though. It's, {us}. Jd wonders why I even care that Gage's Me-Board is just so or Ryan's education binder is tabbed and labeled. He laughs it all off but he wasn't the one...the one sitting in the chair at our Chiro. appointment yesterday when I got thee BIGGEST M.O.Y award yet. Let's call it a moment of silence. Silent shame. Silent I can do better. I'm not going to bother writing down all the grimy details; I'm just going to publicly hold myself accountable by typing it before my own eyes. It's never to late to do it right, right? (It's nothing MAJOR, but kinda is, you know?)
-
And so it is, Go BIG or go home spoken from a true Mother.Ofthe.Year. Some people make new year's resolutions. We are in the process of a total family makeover. I don't know if we'll survive. . .but 2012 will be different for us.

1. No sugar.
2. No TV (except 2 hrs. on non-school nights)
3. If there's something we want our children to know, we will embrace the responsibility to teach it.


I know this stuff is probably pretty basic for most people. I guess maybe we just fell off the wagon? Whatever the case, it may be a pretty bumpy road back to the straight and narrow. Stay tuned.

Let me tell you about the {lines} on my face.

Oh man. When you get your boys in the woods, watch them {bloom}. Sit back, smile and see the joy rise up out of their souls. I love that the first thing Ryan does when he gets in the woods is breathe down deep, the pine cone-y freshness that is {boy} and {joy} all rolled up together. Gage is starting to notice the smell of it all too.


Watch as they learn to skate on thin ice; a metaphorical taste of what is to come with {life}. Ironic how fun it is now.

We journeyed into the woods on this day, soul-searching. JD had just gotten home after working all night. All {3} were in the tub. I looked up at my weary husband and said, "Let's go sledding in the mountains today". You should have seen that night-shift blue shade fade from his face and bright lights take the place within him. Talk about the colors of a flame! He was packed, four wheelers and all, before I had the kids dried, dressed, and ready to go.

-

I've been reading "Wild at Heart" and am realizing how important this man stuff is. These adventures. These woods.

-

On this day, we were in search of a good time. A good {family} time in God's country.

-

JD remembered seeing a "really cool bee hive" in the woods so we spent a good portion of him pulling the boys and I on two connected sleds through the woods, searching for the elusive hive. What can I say, I'm a sucker for a cool bee hive.

-

We found it. Unfortunately someone else had as well, so we got to see what was left of it. JD was right - it would have been cool. Instead though, I found THEE perfect Christmas tree. I propped my camera up and even got a timed family picture. Ahhh, the fragrance of adventure. It's good stuff.

The boys 'harvested' the tree and we fashioned a system for getting it back to the trailer in one piece. It all worked out marvelously. What a {perfect} day.

Now, admittedly, this isn't the best picture of me but it tells the story.

See that tip trailer? Yeah, it spells disaster. As darkness was approaching and the McElroys were loading, adventure turned...sour. JD {accidentally} drove his four-wheeler through the back of our car. GASP. Pause for affect.

-

More pausing. More affecting. More GASPS.

-

Can you hear the echoing screams of "I told you that would happen...WHY didn't you listen to me?" That would be the role I played. I know. I'm not the supportive, compassionate wife I would like to be.

-

It was a quiet ride home narrated by JD with one sentence, "If you had stood where you wanted, we would be driving to an ER right now and you'd probably look a lot like Ryan" (who has no front teeth at the moment). Nu-ugh. I probably would have lifted that four-wheeler like She-ruh and none of this would have happened. Phshaw.

-

I end the story here for one reason. It's a line on my face like the song humming along to this story suggests. It's what makes us, us. It's the lesson {learned} because sweet friends, there's ALWAYS a lesson.

-

I can choose to forget the scene with my babies in the tub.

I can forget the light in {12} eyes when their souls hear, "woods".

I can forget about the two sleds and one beehive in a pine tree.

I can forget all about skating on thin ice and the echos of laughter ringing through The Blues.

I can forget about our family's picture, everyone looking (finally).

I can forget about thee most perfect Christmas tree EVER and the joint effort it took to get it {home}.

-

You see, I can forget all about that and remember the {dent}. (IF I choose to).

-

This year, this year absent from blogging, I've spent remembering more dents than all the rest. It's easy to do because they are everywhere. But believe you me, the light in these eyes of mine is returning, looking up, watching, and waiting for the Lord to ignite. The dents are fading and the Lord's fire is refining.

A New Year

I'm alive. The family is alive. And hopefully in 2012, this blog will have a little more {life} in it as well. Looking forward to a comeback!

{1,000}

When something in your life is OF God, you have to share it. You just do. And when the proverbial 'wind' blows, you must chime. You must. You must {move}.

Consider this my first move. Movement.

God certainly works in mysterious ways; perhaps growing less mystical as time passes on. When I look back on the last year or so, there are pieces. Big ones; little ones. Pieces that seem to fit while others sort of hang in the balance. I guess it's not surprising to me (and yet is at the same time) when I pick up a book and am shocked by the way it seems to sew the pieces of the last year together.

Ann Voskamp. She's a blogger that a dear friend of mine suggested I read. Her writing style is free verse poetry and I'd describe her sentence structure as backward. Instead of writing, 'the dog ran down the road' Ann would write, 'down the road, the dog ran'. For some, it's frustrating to read. But for me...her words, they are like a lullaby for my heart. For the first time in my life I pay no attention to punctuation. The message is sung straight to my soul. Anyway, Ann wrote a book that sat for almost an entire month in my Amazon cart. Since its arrival, I haven't been able to put it down.

~~~
If you had to make a list of 1,000 'things' in your life that you love...1,000 ways you are blessed...1,000 gifts...could you? 1,000. It's a scary number, especially when it starts with 1.

I started my list last night.

1. A husband who loves deeply.
2. Friendship and french fries.
3. "Mama" through a toothy grin.
4. The delete button on facebook.


"This act of naming grace moments, this list of God's gifts, moves beyond the shopping list variety of prayer and into the other side. The other side of prayer, the interior of His throne room, the inner walls of His powerful, love-beating heart. The list is God's list, the pulse of His love - the love that thrums on the other side of our prayers. And I see it now for what this really is, this dare to write down one thousand things I love. It really is a dare to name all the ways that God loves me. The true Love Dare. To move into His presence and listen to His love unending and know the grace uncontainable. This is the vault of the miracles. The only thing that can change us, the world, is this - all His love." from One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp (2011)

Won't you fall in love one way at a time? Unwrap the gift He has given by giving it a name (and number).

Christmas with Ryan

Any idea what's inside a box that looks like this? Cause Ryan can guess in a heartbeat ;)

These little helicopters are so much fun. This is his third one ... maybe this time he'll get a chance to break it before his dad does! hahahahaa

Christmas with Gage

To Infinity...and BEYOND!!!

Showing Woody to Uncle Aaron (who is in Iraq)...

learning to hunt with daddy...

Christmas with {Jaxson}

Isn't it amazing?

(this pic at Olivia's grave site was taken with the 12 second timer feature on my camera ... from the hood of our car!)

Isn't it amazing how {hope} can {change} you?

What I {see}

What is the difference between vision and sight? Because if you had asked me that two months ago, I would have told you they are practically the same. Ryan can see. Yep. He's got the vision thing down.

Trust me now; vision and sight are not the same. And I had no idea how wrong I was!

Sight is the ability to see. Sight is what a doctor measures when they ask you to interpret those letters on a line from 20 feet away. The idea is, 20 correct letters at 20 feet away = perfect eye sight. Neat.

Vision is totally different. It's the way the brain senses and anticipates what the eyes take in. It's related more to perception and cognition than retina, rods, and cones. It's where sight meets reading...and math...and football...and the list goes on...and on.
It's where the brain and ultimately the heart, take the eyes over.
---

Ryan has been going through a series of treatments to {teach} his eyes to work better as a team; to 'beef' up his vision. He's been faithfully practicing his eye exercises every night and he's showing progress already which is SO very exciting! This vision trick though, it's still tough. It still takes a little while. It's still a struggle.

---

But I can't help it. There's a lesson in this. My heart is {tugged}. What is it, God?

---

Ryan, sitting at the counter with me opposite him. "Come on, Ryan, don't be a quitter" I say as he gives in to the last exercise. Him resorting to tears, grabbing at his head, "I don't like being like this mom...I don't like my brain not working".

*hand to the chest*

silence.

The honesty in those words stop me in my tracks. Have I taught my son to feel inadequate? Have I instilled a sense of inferiority {already}? And with tender hesitation I remind him that God has made him perfect.
---

I can't help but think of my own vision, or lack thereof. And so therein lies the lesson. It's as if God is screaming to me the parallel between Ryan's treatment and my walk with Him.

What can 30 minutes of 'daily training' do for my vision? Not my sight, but my vision? Well, I'm about to find out. And won't you join me?

Be thou my vision, oh Lord (and Ryan's too) :)

Halloween {leaves} Me:

We have a favorite spot I like to take the kids to and photograph them in their costumes every year. I like it because of the leaves. I think Ryan is picking up on my obsession with fall leaves.

Seriously. Have you ever picked one up and REALLY examined it? God's beauty in your hand, I tell you! Last week Ryan came running into my classroom from his recess. I was right in the middle of a math lesson and my door was open for fresh air. Anyway, he ran up to me, handed me a red leaf and said, "Here mom...see you after school...love you!" It was the sweetest thing ever. I love that he noticed something beautiful and then shared it with me.

We had a behavior party a few days ago and one of the activities was a table covered with dozens of fall leaves, some white paper, and watercolors. Beauty.

Jaxson is still exploring his appreciation for leaves and spent most of his time eating them:

This picture is at my mom and dad's place but I couldn't resist the red ones...throw a lil monkey on them and you've got some {pure} cute-ness.

Gage was a long-awaited pumpkin. There was no hesitation whatsoever with his costume. He wanted to be a BIG orange pumpkin. Why? Because, according to him, "I'm THREE". That's reason enough for me!

Ryan, who is {still} obsessed with ANYthing related to flying, wanted to be a pilot. No surprise there :) My grandpa gave JD his old World War II hat, which has been practically glued to his head ever since.

We bought him a real flyer's cap with goggles. JD even spray painted a painter's mask camo and attached a pretty cool (spray painted) balloon for an oxygen mask. When we had his whole outfit put together, he still declined. I think he would have been happy just wearing that hat!

As for me, well, this was my 'costume' this time last year...

...and here we are in the same spot this year. What a difference one year makes, huh?

I think this picture is my new favorite. It's not that it's artistic in any way or even fair-enter-worthy. I just {love} that it captures my little {men} right where they are {today}.

Halloween. Some people love it. Some people hate it.

I love it.

It's not the candy.

It's not the costumes.

I don't get carried away with "spooky" stuff.

Halloween for us, is what {we} as parents, make it.

I love the leaves. I love the symbolism.

Every year, Halloween leaves me feeling grateful. All that beauty surrounding us...all those super-saturated hues...the geometric outlines. If you pick one up, you'll notice the cell circles dying and leaving behind a masterful piece of God's art. He brings before us a canvas with his orange-red-yellow fingerprints all around, even in death.

Those leaves remind me of the blessings we often overlook in our lives. We can kick through them as we walk by or pick up a pile and let them fall around us. Bottom line, we can notice.

Halloween leaves an opportunity for me to watch my boys dream up something to {be} for a moment in time.

Halloween leaves a chance for my boys to practice 'please' and 'thank you' as they go door to door.

It leaves me it total awe of God's handiwork as I look at the beauty He creates even in the dying of nature.

But most of all, Halloween leaves me grateful. Grateful that I have {3} beautiful sons and the man of my dreams to raise them with.