All the Best Intentions

Why do the holidays always seem to fly by on a plane fueled with stress and loaded with unfulfilled plans?

It starts with Halloween. This year I was actually prepared. Ok, I'll admit I was only prepared because my mom gave Little Dude a Civil War costume for his birthday. But it worked. He made a handsome Union soldier. Even won the costume contest at our church's Fall festival. Little Dude was the North (the winning side, of course) and his cousin was the South (he can do a great rebel yell).

North vs. South

But when it came time to wear his costume to school, he opted for a ninja getup as he reasoned, "I don't want to get my costume dirty." And yet again I was (surprisingly) prepared.

I think he looks more like a mini Chuck Norris!

I had also planned to have the house decorated, the candy purchased and the pumpkins carved by Halloween night. Well, at least we had the candy purchased. My hubby ended up carving the pumpkins at the last minute because we were busy with Little Dude's soccer games and fixing my car after a truck slightly rearranged my trunk.

But it all worked out.

Trick or Treating happened. Candy was pillaged. And we got to meet a few more of our new neighbors.

Big Dude's handiwork.

Even Furry Dude gets in on the action!

Thanksgiving was next. A little different this time around as Big Dude's mom and my parents all left town for the holiday. Given my aversion to turkey, I tried to convince my hubby that the pilgrims could have eaten chicken tacos.

He didn't quite hold to the same creative historical interpretation, so turkey stayed on the menu. The only time in my life I've ever cooked the turkey was 7 years ago when I was cooking a little bird of my own. The morning sickness meant I spent more time leaning over the commode than the stove. So I wasn't prepared to cook the bird this year.

But it all worked out.

Luckily my sister-in-law offered to cook the turkey. My niece made the pumpkin pie. Hubby made he mashed potatoes. He asked his mom to make her awesome stuffing before she left town. I made the sweet potatoes and corn. And Little Dude set the table.

Then the race to Christmas began.

Why do I always feel like I lose the race?

I had the best intentions -- get Christmas cards out early so people would have our new address (I actually ordered the cards in October!), make family gifts, make Christmas cookies, decorate the house, put up Christmas lights, get all the presents wrapped right away and stowed under the tree, have a snow day, take Little Dude to see Santa, solve world hunger and give peace a chance. Um, well, you see...

Yeah, only a few of those things happened.

But it all worked out.

Little Dude did get to see Santa and play in the snow. It was the most magical Santa-filled weekend ever! And it snowed during our visit to the "North Pole" so he got to go sledding and have a snowball fight.

Top Row: L) Snowball fight! R) Holding his silver bell from Santa on the Polar Express!
Bottom Row: L) He helped the elves make the toys and then he tested the toys! R) One-on-one time with Santa. 

Other than decorate our tree, we didn't decorate much. And the Christmas cookies I planned became New Year cookies and then sometime-in-January cookies. I hurried up and wrapped all the gifts just a few days before Christmas. And we (Big Dude, Little Dude and me) all worked together to create at least one sentimental homemade gift.

But on the plus side the whole family worked together on the Children's Christmas program at church (Big Dude did sound, I helped direct the choir, Little Dude had a little solo, and even our niece helped with the choreography).

And although we had the best intentions, and our plans either didn't happen or were just seriously delayed (I blame the virus we kept sharing with each other), we still had a wonderful Christmas. We still kept an eye on what was important. And plans didn't get in the way of having some fun family time together.

Hope you had wonderful holidays and wishing you a wonderful 2014!

Camp Papa

This week is Fall Break for Little Dude. He has an entire week off!!!

We had plans to take a mini-vacation, but that fell through. Then my parents had a brilliant plan... they would take Little Dude camping!

Great!

My dad wants to teach Little Dude how to fish. It's really important for granddads to teach the younger generations important skills like camping, fishing, catching bugs, farting when someone pulls your finger, setting things on fire, and napping. All valuable lessons for a growing boy.

My husband has been teaching Little Dude his own set of skills, like how to tie his shoes, how to ride a bike, how to build every Star Wars scene with Legos, how to avoid Gamer's Thumb during long Skylanders sessions, and how to fake a belch. But my husband didn't have many opportunities to go camping or fishing when he grew up and he's a little too safety-minded to throw caution to the wind and drive out to the middle of nowhere with just a sleeping bag, duct tape, and chopsticks. (Seriously, I think that's all I took one time during a spontaneous camping trip!)

However. my dad was in the Boy Scouts and his dad was his troop leader -- all something I recently learned now that I'm old enough to actually pay attention to him when he talks. He could probably built an entire fortress with just twigs and spit. Of course, that won't be necessary. Because these days, the ol' Boy Scout camps in a very comfortable 5th wheel. Nothing like enjoying the outdoors with indoor plumbing!

We enjoyed camping while I was growing up. Sometimes we camped in tents. Sometimes in a small trailer that sat in the back of our truck. We lots of adventures and created great memories. My dad was always quite skilled at setting up the camp, chopping wood, and starting a fire. We'd spending time hiking and exploring. And back at camp, we'd play games and read books.

Now while my dad easily earned his scout badge for camping, I'm not sure he ever earned one for fishing.

Throughout the years, my dad has had brief aspirations to fish. Every so often, he would get an inkling that he might actually enjoy it. However, I'm not sure I recall him ever actually catching something. He's more like the lucky mascot for everyone else who fishes with him. When he went fishing with my mom, she caught fish. When he took Big Dude on his first fishing expedition, my happy hubby came back with several fish. My dad? Nada. Zero. Zilch.

So really, I'm not sure why my dad decided to teach Little Dude how to fish. But at least it's better than teaching his how to set things on fire. And really, as long as he's fishing with my dad, Little Dude's almost guaranteed to come back with something other than mosquito bites and pockets full of rocks. I'm looking forward to Little Dude coming home from Camp Papa with lots of stories and memories... and possibly a fish or two.


And by the way... this morning as I was saying goodbye to Little Dude, the reality hit me... this is the longest that he's been away from us!

It didn't sink in until he pulled out his camera, and after taking a picture of Papa and Grandma, he took a picture of me. He said he wanted a picture of me in case he forgot what my face looks like!

Hmm... maybe I didn't explain how long his trip is. He may possibly be planning to stay with Papa and Grandma longer than I planned on!

My Little Big Boy

Last night I tucked a 5-year-old into bed. A few minutes later I heard a little voice softly calling, "Mom... Mo---om." I came upstairs and asked, "What's going on?"

"I don't want to turn 6 tomorrow," he replied with big tears in his eyes.

"Oh, kiddo. But turning 6 is going to be fun. Why don't you want to be 6?"

"Because then I'll have to turn 7 and then 8. And then I won't be able to go on the slide at school anymore. And I won't get to play. I'll be just like Gabriella's brother who just has to sit in school and learn and he can't do anything else."

Wow. If he thinks being 8 years old is dreadful, I wonder what he thinks about my age!

I countered, "But when you get to 4th Grade, you get to play sports after school with the other big kids. And you get to do a lot of really fun clubs."

"But I won't be your little boy anymore."

"No matter how big you get, you'll always be my little boy."

He eventually fell asleep and awoke in a much happier mood this morning! He got his first birthday phone call from his Papa whom he shares a birthday with. (I overheard Little Dude telling Papa that he was glad they share a birthday.) And then he fielded several other calls from other family members in between bites of the surprise birthday donuts his Auntie and cousin brought over late last night.

We spent the morning reading cards and postcards. (Little Dude can even read most of Grandma's half-cursive handwriting!) While reading one postcard from Papa and Grandma, I apparently mispronounced "Alabama." I pronounced it Al-uh-bam-uh. But Little Dude schooled me by saying that it must always be pronounced Al-uh-BAM-uh "with a little sass in it." (No, I don't know where he learns these things from.) And I realized he is growing up with a great sense of humor.

I listened to him pepper his conversation with words like "literally," "age-appropriate," and "excellent" -- all used correctly. And I realized how smart and capable he has become.

I watched him tie his shoes with his long fingers and stretch his long legs. And I realized how big he is growing.

After loading his birthday cupcakes into the car to take to his day care, I told him what an awesome, charming, funny, smart, handsome and talented man he is. He told me I forgot to add "adorable" to the list. And I realized how confident he is.

So cheers to the birthday boy. These last 6 years have been amazing. I can't wait to see what's to come!

My Evil Sister

On the phone with my mom today...

Mom: "Did you know your sister is evil?"

Me: "Yes, Mom! I've been trying to tell you this for years."

I'm not sure why no one really listens to me. For the last 30 years I have tried to convince my parents that my little sister is pure evil. And now they finally see it!

For decades, I've been awaiting justice. I could finally taste the sweet satisfaction of having my mom realize that all my past claims that my syrupy sweet little sister had falsely accused me of smacking her, had wrongly blamed me for various flagrant rule violations, and had often deceptively framed me for her misdeeds were true!

Don't let that innocent demeanor fool you...

Really, what older sibling does not happily await the day that their parents finally discover the younger sibling is devious, sinister, and deceitful?!?

And my mom's response to her sudden ascertainment?

"I should get her a t-shirt that says, 'Master Manipulator,'" she said with a laugh.

My hand smacked my forehead.

How did my mother finally stumble upon this revelation?

My sister was giving her advice on how to manipulate someone to get what she wants. She was divulging her secrets -- the tricks of her trade. And my mom realized that she had way too much knowledge for someone whom she had always believed was the model of innocence.

Actually, my sister was giving her good advice for the circumstance. A little manipulation comes in handy at times. For instance, it probably came in handy when my sister was a teacher. It would be a real survival tool when facing a classroom of 30+ sixth graders!

My mom pointed out that both she and my dad are firstborns. And I'm a first born. And we all tend to just get right down to brass tacks without beating around the bush. We tend to just point out things directly instead of persuading someone to see it. Although we're friendly and at times even outgoing, the three of us are actually introverts. And I swear we each have our own brand of OCD-ness!

Then we have my sister... who, now I realize, was left out of our own little "firstborn club." And if you believe all the "power of birth order" stuff, then you'd know how that story goes. She often found ways to get out of her chores and she totally knew (and still knows) how to steal all the attention.

I guess I can't be too hard on her, because it probably wasn't easy following me in everything. But we did eventually find different hobbies and sports to get involved in. We found our own spotlights to shine in so we weren't always competing with each other.

And if I'm totally honest, she wasn't the only manipulator in the family, because there was a time not long ago, that I finally revealed to my mom the truth about a certain childhood hair-trimming incident that was blamed on a totally defenseless 3-year-old sibling (a story to be shared at a later date).

OK, so maybe we're both a little evil. What can I say? We're sisters!

Feeling a Little Boxed In

We recently sold our house and are currently playing the waiting game while we wait for our new house to close. So a few weeks ago we loaded up a moving van with much more furniture and boxes than should ever have fit into our tiny little house (I seriously think we broke a few laws of physics there) and headed west... to a retirement community.

Retirement?

Yep. I look stinkin' good for my age!

Actually, my parents were gracious enough to let us stay at their house while they are working in another state. They warned told the neighbors we would be staying here, and, except for the occasional ambulance and firetruck, it's been pretty quiet.

A friend of mine asked if we were actually allowed to stay here since we're clearly not old enough and we're toting around a 5-year-old. I told her we absolutely were. But only for a limited time. We'll know we've overstayed our welcome when a blue-haired mob shows up in their golf carts with torches and pitch forks to slowly chase us out of town!

My mom always keeps a tidy house. Despite the fact that it had been empty for a few months, there was not a speck of dust to be anywhere when we moved in. Towels were neatly hung up ready for use. Crisp sheets were perfectly tucked on the beds. It was like moving into a vacation rental.

Luckily my mom is not here to see how we have filled her garage with our furniture and appliances. She's not here to see how we've moved our dressers and wardrobe boxes into her beautiful formal living room.

Dueling pianos! Just a little keyboard family reunion
before we moved in the dressers.

And she's not here to see how we redecorated her dining room.

Some people like to decorate their homes in a traditional, contemporary, country chic or even industrial style. We're going with a cardboard motif. Personally, I like how the chandelier and oil painting really bring balance to the whole room.

We took two days to move everything out of our old house. During one trip, my dear hubby saw a wild coyote strolling the retirement neighborhood. He was probably looking for the local Luby's. During the final trip, my same sweet hubby asked me to help him move the refrigerator by tipping it over on him. After making sure his life insurance was up-to-date I obliged by giving the giant appliance a shove toward him and listening for any screams that may have been muffled by the large metal box. Luckily, it somehow made it's way onto the dolly and down the ramp without claiming any victims.

We then spent the following two days starting all our conversations with "Have you seen my..." or "Do you know where we put the..." For the sake of our sanity, we cut through the five layers of tape that created an air-tight seal on each box and relabeled the boxes. We only unpacked what was necessary -- like food, toothbrushes and anxiety medicine. And now we are living out of boxes one day at a time.

We're exhausted. We're confused. And sometimes we're just plain cranky. You know... I guess we do fit into the neighborhood after all! ;-)

Leaving Home

Yes, I've been delinquent (again), but I've had a good reason... we are moving!!! Actually, it's not quite that simple, because, really, when is it ever?

So we spent two weekends clearing out clutter, packing up boxes, and cleaning. Granted, we only cleaned out half the house because we still had to live here! But it was worth it because we sold it in two weeks!

After that, we started spending quality time with our agent looking at houses over here. Looking at houses over there. Looking at houses everywhere!!! Weekends. Evenings. Afternoons. We crammed in as many houses as possible and put several bids down. And just this week, we finally had an offer accepted. Whoo-hoo!!! However, it doesn't close until the end of next month, so in the meantime, we'll be living at my parent's home... in a retirement community... with a five-year-old! Watch out, retirees! We are moving in next door!!!

Tomorrow, we pick up the moving van. Pack up the rest of our stuff. And move across town.

Tonight is the last night in the house that has been my home for over a decade. I bought this place while I was still single, and didn't have plans at that time to marry and have a kid. Come to think of it... we've tripled the occupancy since living here!

The first home improvement project I did was in the guest bath. It was the first time I battled full-scale hives, and I had to keep my hands busy so they wouldn't scratch. So I spent the week sponge painting and slapping down some tile.

Almost a year after I bought the house, I met my husband. We got to know each other when he installed a doggy door for me. A few months later, we had our first kiss here. And he asked me to marry him here...

After we got married, he thought I deserved to have roses all the time, so he added a rose garden...

Several years later, I found out I was pregnant here...

We brought our baby home and watched him grow up here...

We taught Little Dude to hit a slow pitch here in the back yard, and we used to enjoy watching our dogs race around playing tag in the evenings.

And, of course, my beautiful lemon tree lives back there, along with my vines that grow on the back fence.

My husband made his own contributions (other than the doggy door) by replacing all the faucets, a toilet, the stove, the shower doors, and the flooring. He created custom built-ins for the master closet, which I love, and installed a little air conditioner in the separated laundry room so I wouldn't get hot while doing laundry in the summer.

I'll miss the sound the rain makes on the patio roof. The scent of the citrus blossoming in the neighborhood. The neighbors who walk their dogs past us every morning while we leave for school and work.

We have been totally blessed with some really awesome neighbors. Some have already let us know that they're going to miss us, too. Everyone looks out for each other here. When the weather's nice, people enjoy walking and jogging and waving hello to each other. Holidays are always magical in our neighborhood -- hundreds of people walk up and down our street on Halloween, everyone enjoys showing off their Christmas decorations each year, flags fly for patriotic holidays, and several neighbors even decorate for Thanksgiving and Easter.

We are leaving with some wonderful memories, but we're looking forward to making some new memories in our new house.

Good-bye, kind old house.

Whatever Happened to Old Yeller's Family?

I don't usually do New Year's Resolutions. However, I'm breaking a resolution I made years ago to never make another New Year's resolution. And I'm actually making a new resolution. (Somewhat foreboding, isn't it?)

My resolution is to have a quieter house.

We are naturally loud people. All three of us have been gifted with super-human lung capacity and reverberating voices.


I, for one, sing and play the saxophone and other wind instruments. I have the lung capacity of a great ape. My laugh can be heard across concert halls. I can be quiet. But get me going and I get louder and louder.

My hubby, on the other hand, doesn't have a quiet setting. He has to whisper from across the room... and I can still hear him loud and clear. We joke that he came from a stereotypical loud Italian family, except they're not actually Italian and they don't talk with their hands. When the family is together, things get exciting... and loud.

Our son... oh, our poor son. He never stood a chance. He can be quiet. But the more excited he gets, the louder he gets. And that kid has some serious volume! You should hear him belt out a song. Oh, wait... if you're within a 10 mile radius, you probably have heard him! I've actually had to work on teaching him to sing quietly.

I have no doubt that our neighbors can hear just about every conversation we have. When we're shopping, people across the store can pick up our dialogue. We are loud... and I'm not proud about it.

The other day, my parents took Little Dude to their (retirement community) rec center. He gets very excited while playing mini-golf. And the more excited he got, the louder he got. He likes a quick game, so he was jumping up and down and shouting. Some lady came by and asked if he was deaf (nope, but anyone around him probably is). When the group ahead would move on to the next hole, Little Dude would shout, "The old people in front of us are done!" My parents thought it was hilarious.

So this year, we're going to try to make the windows shake less at our house. We have a "yelling jar" so that when one of us starts getting loud, they have to drop in a quarter. Don't know what we'll do with the quarters yet... but hopefully we won't have to spend them on earplugs!

My Christmas List, part 2

So I already told you that the top of my Christmas list is to spend more time with my family. The next two items on my Christmas list may seem like they conflict: Have More Adventures and Relax More!

In my mind, those two actually go hand-in-hand.

Adventure should not equal stress. Yes, it sometimes accompanies adventure, but it shouldn't have to. Sometimes an adventure is simply allowing yourself to get lost and find your way back. I have my dad to thank for that lesson.

We went camping with my parents for Thanksgiving this year and I was reminded of all those times camping with my dad when he would just drive and sometimes we wouldn't know exactly where we were. He would just smile and call it an adventure. We explored the road less travelled and sometimes had to double back or take some unexpected detours. But it was fun and he didn't seem to stress over it.

Sometimes an adventure is trying something new. My hubby didn't grow up camping like I did. So our Thanksgiving camp out was an adventure for him. And he actually wasn't stressed. It was our first time using a camping trailer and he handled it like a pro. We hiked (and purposely got "lost"). He built a fire. He tried something new.

Sometimes an adventure is eating something new. Little Dude can be a picky eater. Sometimes I get frustrated with that, but then I have to remember that a lot of foods are still new to him. For instance... S'mores! He wasn't sure about it, but he tried them.

Sometimes an adventure is to be had in acting like a kid. My mom reminded me of this. During our 3-hour "lost in the wilderness" hike, she spotted some interesting, frilly, white plants by the riverbank. Like a kid in a candy store, she asked my dad to get one for her. He climbed through the thick brush to get one and she was so happy! She played with it for the rest of the hike, pelting us with it causing it to dust us with pollen. She was having fun.

I heard a quote about Thanksgiving that said something like: "We spend one day with others being thankful for what we do have, and then we spend the next day trampling others for what we don't have."

How can I not be thankful for a family that knows how to be goofy, how to relax, and how to enjoy what we have around us?

It sure makes the holidays sweeter!

My Christmas List, part 1

Oh, the holidays. They have a way of completely taking over your life. For a few days of celebration and joy, we spend a month or more driving ourselves absolutely crazy trying to make everything perfect. Gifts, parties, travel, finances, cleaning, coordinating schedules - it all leads to stress, moodiness, and a general desire to ram your shopping cart into the person who suddenly decided to sign up for the store rewards card at the register in front of you. (Or is that just me?)

It's not always easy to sit back and enjoy what you have. But, I'm behind on my photos so it forced me to take a break and reminisce.

When I was a kid, Christmas was about the presents. Sure, there was the whole "baby Jesus was born today" thing. And I totally understood that and respected it. But seriously, if there wasn't something for me under the tree, I would have been devastated!

Now, it's really not about the presents. (And I do spend more time celebrating baby Jesus!) This year, my hubby and family kept asking what I want for Christmas and, honestly, I couldn't think of much. Because the truth is that I have a wonderful family. No gift could ever beat that!

So the top of my Christmas list is: Spend time with my family!

I have a family that I enjoy spending time with. I have a family that tolerates all my quirks, my total OCD moments and my mild insanity. Sure, sometimes they laugh at me, but most of the time they're laughing with me.

First, let me tell you about my in-laws... They are top-notch, the best in-laws I could have ever asked for. I love this group!

Look at those smiling faces. The day I took this photo, I unintentionally led them on an wild goose chase. We had plans to go to a pumpkin patch at a botanical garden across town, only to find out when we arrived, that it was for the following weekend. Blondie, here didn't check the dates! Oops! They were probably laughing at me when I snapped this pic outside of the botanical garden, but they were still game to try another place. (Have I mentioned that my mom-in-law is a very positive person and keeps me upbeat despite my mistakes?)

So we drove way out of town to a farm that we've never visited before and had a blast!

I'll be hanging with this bunch for Christmas this year and we'll have a blast! I'm so thankful that I get to celebrate holidays with them.

For many, holidays can be weird/difficult/all the above with in-laws because each family is different. Your family is not usually like your spouse's family. Each family has their own traditions and their own way of doing things.

Hubby and I enjoying each other's families. And we have fun merging the way we did things growing up and creating our own traditions. The best part is that both of our families encourage us to find our own way.



So let the holidays begin... er, continue!

I'll have to add to my Christmas list later.

Yes, Jesus Loves Me

Little Dude has always been the inquisitive type. He doesn't just want to know Why... he wants to know Who, What, Where, When, and How. One of the topics that he has asked about since he could form a question is Jesus and Heaven. He would look up in the sky and ask, "Can I visit Jesus in Heaven?"

"No, it's not like visiting Grandma's house."

"But I want to see Him. Can't we just fly up there? Please?"

Then the questions started getting deeper. "Did Jesus really die?" "Does everyone who dies go to Heaven?" "Are you going to Heaven?" "Is Furry Dude going to Heaven?"

At first the questions occasionally popped up at random moments. But in the last six months or so, they became more frequent -- often peppering our regular conversations.

Last month, a week before Easter, Big Dude and I thought it might be a good idea to explain why we celebrate Easter. We asked Little Dude if he knew what Easter was about. He started talking about decorating eggs and seeing the Easter bunny (who visits his preschool every year). He was so focused on his school Easter party that we shrugged our shoulders and figured he wasn't ready yet. Maybe next year.

However, on Easter morning, his Sunday School teachers must have given a really good lesson because by Tuesday afternoon, I found myself in quite the theological discussion with my child.

"I want to have Jesus in my heart really, really bad."

OK, even after all the questions in the past, I wasn't quite prepared for this. Is he really ready? I thought. Does he really understand? I'll admit that I was excited, but nervous at the same time. As a Christian, of course I want my child to understand and to make that decision for himself. And even though I accepted Christ when I was only 5, I didn't expect Little Dude to get there so soon.


So I did what any unprepared mother would do... I tried to pawn it off on his teachers. "Well, tomorrow night is AWANA and you can ask Miss Kim about how to have Jesus in your heart." There. If he's not ready, then someone else who I'm sure is much better equipped to talking to children about such things can handle it.

But he was insistent. He started asking about Heaven again. And this time he started talking about Jesus dying on the cross. My mommy-sense started tingling. I asked, "Are you talking about Easter?"

"Yeah. Easter." Then he explained the entire Easter story to me. Jesus died on the cross for our sins. He was buried. He rose again. And now He's in Heaven, and one day we'll be in Heaven with Him. He understood more than some adults do! For an hour (which is about 7 hours in kid-time), we talked about God's love, sin, grace, and WHY Jesus died on the cross. He would ask questions and when I answered, he seemed to think about it before asking another question.

We wrapped up our conversation just in time for a nap. I told Little Dude that we would talk to his teachers tomorrow at church so they could explain more. He seemed pretty happy as he fell asleep.

That evening, everything was normal. And the next morning, everything flowed along as usual. But just before we were about to leave for preschool, Little Dude said it again. "I really want to have Jesus in my heart."

Obviously, what he had learned was sticking with him. So this time, I did what any semi-prepared mother would do... I sat down on the floor with him and led him in a prayer.

That's a moment I'll never forget!

Little Dude was so excited. He called his Daddy, his Papa, and both of his Grandmas on the way to preschool. That evening we told his teachers at church (and I think he told his teachers at preschool too!). Everyone was excited. Oh, yeah, and I'm sure I heard a few angels sing! ;-)

How many times do I have to say "Thanks?" - part 2

Thanksgiving is TOMORROW! I'm looking forward to it. There is just sooo much to be thankful for.

Last time, I listed my top two things I'm thankful for. Well, now here's a few more to add to the list...

3. My Parents - I have them to thank for my love of learning, musical talents (OK, the talent's from my mom, but the love of music is from my dad), creative writing, and wacky sense of humor. Plus, they're just stinkin' cute together. There's a reason my friends dubbed them "The Lovebirds."

4. My Mother-in-Law - What?!? Some of you may be shocked, but I actually get along with my mom-in-law and our relationship has really grown over the years. Plus, if I ever need to complain about dear ol' hubby, she's the one I turn to. Why? Because I don't want to complain to my friends and have them not like hubby just because of something I said in anger. Instead, I turn to the one woman who completely understands and usually has some really good advice on how to deal with the man in my life.

5. My Sister - We used to be frienemies, but now we're just friends. I love hanging out with her. And Little Dude loves hanging out with her son. What could be better than raising our kids together?

6. My Sis-in-Law & Niece - Again, I seriously scored in the in-law lottery when I married. We all have so much fun together.

7. My Friends - You know who you are. You're probably reading this right now. Yep... you! Some of you I've known for a few years shy of forever. Others I've known only a few years. Some sit next to me in church or praise band every week. Others I haven't sat next to for years. No matter what, I love you all!

Other things I'm thankful for: my relationship with God, my wonderful church family, the fact that I still have a job, living in a free country, and so much more!

I hope you all have a terrific Thanksgiving! And I hope you find many things to be thankful for!


Next time: Will I join the Black Friday madness this year? It's very possible. Get a non-shopper's take on it!

How many times do I have to say "Thanks?" - part 1

Wow. Thanksgiving is next week? Where do the weeks go?

I'll keep it short and sweet today (heavy on the sweet) with a list of a few things I'm saying Thanks for!

1. Big Dude (a.k.a. My Husband) - OK, he doesn't read anything I write so I'm safe to brag about him here without his head exploding to gigantic proportions. He's handsome. He's handy (seriously... master carpenter). He cooks. He vacuums. He's always helping other people. And although seriously challenging at times, he supports me in all the crazy things I want to do.

2. Little Dude (a.k.a. My Son) - He amazes me every day. He's smart. He's funny. He's outgoing most of the time. His laugh makes my heart sing. I love watching him learn how to read and sound out the letters. I love the duets we sing in the car on the way to school. I love his hugs and "hundred kisses." Oh, I could go on and on and on. Just know this... I LOVE this kid!


I'm just going to stop there for the moment. I'll add more later because there is so much more to be thankful for!

Watch next time to find out what family member I'm thankful for that might surprise some people!

Florida! - How to Celebrate 4th of July with the Grandparents

Since today's my birthday, I thought I'd write this morning about how my family celebrated another birthday... America's birthday!

My favorite way to celebrate 4th of July is on a boat! My family often would charter a sailboat out of San Diego for Independence Day weekend. And on 4th of July night, we would watch the fireworks from the boat. Spectacular!

This year, we still managed to get some boating time in on 4th of July!

Captain and First Mate

We all (even Little Dude) took turns steering the boat. Some of us (Big Dude and Little Dude) drove a little faster than than others. But we do love the feel of the wind blowing through our hair as we speed along the water!

Our little sailor!

The Crew

We saw a lot of really fancy houses along the shoreline, but we saw some other interesting things too...

Left: Vultures! In fact, we saw vultures almost everywhere we went in Florida.
Top Right: A floating BBQ shack. When we went past again, there were a couple boats pulled alongside for lunch... including a police boat!
Bottom Right: We're used to deeper water. It was strange to see people wading knee-deep next to their boats!

And of course, after all the boating fun, we found time to enjoy the fireworks and play with sparklers!

Maggie watched from the safety of the trailer!

Florida! - Flying the Friendly Skies

What? You thought I was just going to tease you about our Florida trip in my last post and not actually blog about it? Never! Of course, our trip was filled with so many wonderful things that it will take several postings to include it all.

First, let me say that this was the longest vacation Hubby has ever taken in his life - 10 days! (I actually spent 10 days in Italy many years ago with a wonderful friend... but that's another story!) Now 10 days may seem like a long time to spend with your in-laws, but Hubby actually likes my parents. (We both have great in-laws to love!) What made him proclaim this trip to be "the best vacation ever" is that we were able to spend a lot of time just sitting back and relaxing but we also saw a lot of things too.

Big Dude and Little Dude heading through the airport.

Traveling with a little one can be tricky at times... especially when you have to change planes. But luckily, Little Dude is already a seasoned traveller and he loves planes!

Little Dude and Big Dude burning off some energy during our layover.

His travelling skills and ability to entertain himself really helped when our connection in Tampa was delayed and then not delayed and then delayed again due to engine problems. What was supposed to be a 90 minute layover turned into 5 hours (a couple of those were spent sitting on the plane)! But Little Dude's charming personality and patience through the whole ordeal earned him one of those big bags filled with about 20 smaller bags of pretzels. Little Dude even gave our flight attendant a hug when we finally made it to Ft. Lauderdale (and L.D. invited him to his birthday party)!

We were all excited to see Grandma and Papa at the airport, but I'm pretty sure Little Dude was the most excited!

Papa, Little Dude, Grandma, me and Little Dude's prized bag of pretzels!

For most of the trip, I had no idea what time or day it was. No no clocks, no calendars, no email, no web, no facebook, no blogs, no news. I did text a couple times, but other than that, I barely touched my cell phone. It was a low tech vacay for me! Very relaxing! We all need that kind of break every once in a while.

Sisterly Love

My sister moved back to town last year and we love that we live in the same city now. We see each other at least once a week (usually more). Our boys love each other. (Little Dude calls his cuz "my best friend cousin.") And we call each other almost every day.

This is all strange if you consider that when we lived in different states we hardly spoke to each other at all. Pretty much all our updates were funneled through our Mom. And if you knew us when we were kids, you are probably shocked right now.

Our relationship was always extreme. We either were best friends or bitter enemies - either drove our mom nuts. And when I moved to LA after college, we hardly talked. Mom really kept our relationship going by sending her (and a friend) to visit me during their spring breaks. It wasn't just the miles that kept our relationship distant.

But something happened before my li'l sis moved back. She got pregnant and had a kid. And although we were states apart from each other, it bonded us. She actually called me for advice. I actually flew out there to visit her and her newborn. Somehow, motherhood bonded us in a way that nothing else could.

When I found out that my sis was moving back, I was excited. But I was a little nervous too. Would our relationship go back to the way it was before? Would all that sibling rivalry come back?

Luckily, when she moved back, we became even closer. We talk more, we see each other more, we share more. She joined the gospel vocal group my mom and I were in. She has my family over for dinner each week. I spend much more time with her than any of my other friends.

Yep, I said other friends... meaning I consider her to be one.

In fact, last night she showed me once again how much she loves me. She's been encouraging (that's the nice way of saying "pushing") me to join her step-aerobics class. I called her midday to tell her I was going to try it after work. She wasn't sure she could, or would, go with me because she had already been to the same class earlier that day. However, who showed up for the class and even showed me some of the instructor's favorite moves before class started? That's right! My sister!

Nothing says love quite like sacrificing yourself at the gym!

Love ya, sis!

Mother's Day Mayhem

Today, I really wanted to write about how wonderfully perfect my Mother's Day was. I wanted to say that it was relaxing and my child was a perfect angel and everything was beautiful. And I could say that. How would you know? But that's not what happened. My Mother's Day was much more memorable! This Mother's Day will always be remembered as the one with nudity at church!

After the perfect Friday morning Mommy-and-Me breakfast at Little Dude's school, I had high expectations for the rest of the weekend. Apparently, I should never set expectations any taller than my child.

To start, let me give you a brief review of the weekend. When I picked up my little angel from school on Friday, he threw a massive tantrum. He didn't want to leave and screamed all the way down the hall. Once outside, he proceeded to have a 30-minute meltdown while doing everything physically possible to keep from getting into the car. Precious Hubby called to find out what was taking so long, and after hearing the commotion, was ready to come to my rescue. But somehow I managed to reform the wild creature before me into a humanlike being and strap him into the carseat. Luckily, the rest of the evening was much better, although my self-confidence as a mother was completely shot.

Saturday, we went to the zoo where I picked up a sunburn. Ouch! And later at home I felt uggy because I didn't drink enough water. (I wanted to make sure my kid had enough to drink, so I just sipped.) Then Hubby sent me to the store to buy something to grill at a BYOM BBQ that night. But Hubby didn't like what I picked out so I made sandwiches before we loaded up our grill to take to the BBQ. (Yes, we grilled for everyone else.) Back at home, I helped Hubby move the grill back into the backyard and somehow managed to filled my wrist with a hundred tiny splinters. My son watched me tweeze out most of the splinters and then he kissed it to make it feel better. After the boys went to bed, I stayed up to do some laundry and clean before my mother-in-law came over the next day.

So Sunday morning, I woke up sunburned, sore, splintered, and tired. But it was Mother's Day and I was looking forward to it.

The day started well. Hubby made waffles for our son and eggs and toast for me. Nice! I opened my cards (Little Dude personally picked out the one he gave me) and the little guy gave me a great big hug! We all got ready for church and headed out as one big happy family.

On the way to church, Hubby stopped to get us all drinks. Red Bull for him, orange juice for me, and apple juice for Little Dude. Just before we got to church, Little Dude wanted a drink. So we opened the juice and Big Dude reached back to hand it off to Little Dude. Suddenly, I felt something wet rolling down the back of my hair and my shirt. Big Dude had unfortunately hit the ceiling with the bottle of juice spilling some on me and my seat.

Did I mention that I had to sing a special in church and had to stand up in front of everyone?

OK. The juice wasn't really too big of a deal. After all, it was the back of my hair, and most people wouldn't really notice. After band practice, I brushed out the crunchy parts and everything looked fine. Plus, who doesn't enjoy smelling like apples?

So I headed off to Bible study where I found my guys. Hubby greeted me with, "Since it's Mother's Day, you can take him [Little Dude] to class. And make sure he goes to the bathroom." No problem. I headed off with Little Dude and we stopped at the toddler bathroom, which is a small lavatory just a few feet outside our Bible study door.

Here's where things went haywire. I was standing in the bathroom with my son who had his pants around his ankles and was pitching a fit. He didn't want to pee. And he didn't want to pull up his pants. He didn't want to calm down. He didn't want me to pull up his pants for him. I tried every trick I could think of. Then I started thinking that my husband must have set me up. Seriously! When he said, "Make sure he goes to the bathroom," I thought that meant Little Dude hadn't peed yet and needed to. But I realized that was not going to happen.

The screaming started to get louder and I was losing patience. Actually I'm pretty sure I lost my patience earlier that weekend. I told Little Dude to stay in the bathroom while I marched back up to my dear precious Hubby and said, "It's Mother's Day. YOU deal with him!" Clearly, he didn't hear me.

So I grabbed all my stuff (I wasn't going to stay in class) and headed back to the toddler bathroom. As I turned, I saw that my son had waddled into class crying. He still had his pants around his ankles and was naked from the waist down. (My husband later told me, "I was pretty embarrassed to see my son's pen** in the middle of Sunday school.")

I didn't even turn to see if anyone saw. I just grabbed his arm, pulled him into the bathroom and tried to get him to calm down and pull up his pants. When Big Dude knocked on the door, I let him in and I walked out.

I needed to calm down, so I went to the car for a quick pity party. Deep breath. 1...2...3...4...5... That was when I realized how much I missed my mom. A few months ago, she moved to the other side of the country. Having her three time zones away was really hard to get used to. We sang in a gospel vocal group together for the last several years and usually had plenty of events to sing at around Mother's Day. But this year, I was pretty lonely without her. So after crying on the phone to her, I sucked up just enough dignity to be able to go back inside... where I proceeded to spill my orange juice down the front of my hair and shirt.

Eau de apples and oranges. Who doesn't want to smell like fruit salad?

After cleaning myself off, wiping my tears away, and having heartfelt chats with a couple friends, I realized that it's ok to miss my mom. And it's ok to have a bad day now and then... even if that day is on Mother's Day.

The day went on. I survived. My in-laws came over after church and we had a good time. And that night I received a totally awesome Mother's Day gift from my son. He once again become my sweet angel as he held my head between his little hands and said, "I want to give you kisses everywhere." He then gave me dozens of kisses all over my face and hands.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Sweetie."

Here You Go, Mommy!

This morning, I was treated to a wonderful breakfast at my son's preschool. The kids made invitations for us Mommies earlier this week. And this morning, his class had a delicious buffet ready. Unfortunately, not all the moms were able to stay for the breakfast - we all have jobs to go to - but I was glad I was able to go to work late today, because it was totally worth it.

We walked in the room and saw the decorations and the tables covered with pink tablecloths. The teacher was calling all the kids to come sit at the tables, and I heard Little Dude say, "Mommy, come sit by me." He found two chairs for us at a private table. Of course, it didn't take long for his friends to ask if they could sit with us!

Since I was the first Mommy to arrive, the teacher asked Little Dude if he would like to go first and get some breakfast for me. Little Dude was all too happy to comply! He picked out plates for us and asked, "Mommy, what do you want to eat?" I told him to bring me something delicious.

It was pancake day so he put a pancake on the plate for me and then grabbed a slice of lemon bread. "Here you go, Mommy!" He delivered it and actually asked if I wanted syrup. Sweet! Then he got his own plate of food (pancakes and yogurt) and sat next to me to eat.

A few of the other moms started arriving and I watched as their kids asked them to get the food. When Little Dude went to get us both apple juice, one of the other moms commented on how Little Dude "got" Mother's Day!

Yep, I'm a proud Mommy!

Sadly, I did have to leave for work even though Little Dude wanted me to stay all day. He showered me with hugs and kisses while watching the clock (I told him I had to leave when the minute hand was at the 9).

Even if he doesn't do anything else this weekend, I'm super happy with this morning's breakfast and how proud he made me!

I love you, Little Dude!

Yes, I'm Sensitive!

It's Spring. Flowers are blooming. The wind is blowing. And my nose is dripping. Ah, sniff, sniff, spring. If only I could smell your fragrant flowers.

Last night, the family took an hour long walk around the neighborhood. Yes, an hour. Actually, it was two half-hour walks. The first one involved Little Dude riding his bike while I took Furry Dude for a walk. The three of us venture out into the neighborhood a few times a week for a post-dinner stroll/run/skip/hop. And I love it because our neighborhood is actually very active in the evenings. We have neighbors who hang out on their front lawns chatting it up with whoever passes by, people walking their dogs, kids on bikes and a few sweaty joggers.

Of course, last night, the wind was blowing. And blowing. And blowing. I'll admit I didn't really want to go for a walk because I knew the wind would start the evil cycle of allergies. But my boy had some energy to burn, so I squirted Afrin up my nostrils, and sacrificed my ability to breath for my son's happiness. Oh, the things we mothers do for our kids.

By the time we got home, my nose was running like Niagara Falls. I grabbed a box of tissue and proceeded to build a crafty pile of snot rags shaped into the Statue of Liberty. Through my puffy, barely opened eyes, I saw my husband putting on his tennis shoes.

"What are you doing?"

Little Dude intervened. "I want Daddy to go on a walk with us."

"Just Daddy?"

"No, I want you too."

Nuts! So Big Dude, Little Dude, Furry Dude, and I headed out the door. When we returned, I could no longer breath through my nose, my eyes were practically swelled shut, my body hurt from sneezing a thousand times, and I'm pretty sure I had snot and drool all over the front of my shirt.

My wonderful, loving Hubby - who sneezes only a few times a year - thought he was being helpful when he said, "You should take something for that."

I almost pummeled him to death with the Zyrtec bottle I had just swallowed a pill from.

"God Made Poop!"

Most people never have the opportunity to combine theology with gastrointestinal issues. But nothing is off-limits in our family! So when I found myself telling my son last night that "God made poop," I realized our family had yet again wandered into exotic dialogue.

I haven’t seen an official poll, but I’m pretty sure that conversations about poop are not uncommon for households with little children. Of course, our household probably has an above-average amount of poo-related chats. Since he started eating solids at six months old, Little Dude has had an uncomfortably chronic digestive issue. So yes, we talk crap. And now that he’s almost four-years-old, the bathroom banter has become a little too common. There have even been a few times where I’ve had to stop the little guy – or even myself – from sharing too much information with people outside our family.

Another frequent discussion in our house is much more sacred. Little Dude loves going to church and prays to Jesus every night. He has a question about God almost every day. Where is God? Where does He live? Can I go visit Him in heaven?

It was inevitable that two of the most common conversations in our home would eventually collide and create a divine comedy!

It finally happened last night. Little Dude and I were having a lavatorial tête-à-tête on our way home from his cousin’s house. During the play date, my precious little boy thought he needed to use the potty. However, after an unsuccessful attempt, he informed us all, “I can only go poopy at home.”

Yes, this was going to be a problem.

So in the car, I was trying to reassure my son that it’s ok to use the potty at Auntie’s house or school or church or anywhere for Numero Dos. That led to a discussion about why he needs to go #2 (i.e. so his tummy doesn’t hurt, so he can have more room in his tummy for all the yummy food he likes, etc.). After a lengthy Why?inquisition from the back seat, I found myself falling on the crutch of “because that’s how God made you.” (“Because I said so” didn’t really fit here.)

“God made me poop?”

“Yes, hon, God made poop.”

So there you have it. Giant theological revelation: God made poop. I’m sure some it won’t make it into Max Lucado’s next book or even Rick Warren’s, but maybe it will at least help alleviate my son’s new concern over public pooping.

Preschool Soap Opera

Monday night, as soon as I walked in the door returning home from another long day at the office, I heard my loving hubby say to my son, “Tell Mommy who you played with at school today.”

Hmm… since Little Dude seems to have a new “Best Friend” everyday, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Ryder? Jordan? Keegan? Jaada? Heather? Nope, none of those. He happily replied, “Lily.”

I only recently learned about “Lily” when I had to pick up Little Dude early from school one day. It was the end of nap time, and he was still curled up on his mat with his blanket. A cute little brunette next to him informed me that Little Dude was still sleeping. Then she proceeded to tell me how she and Little Dude had played “Power Rangers” all morning (clearly her idea since my son has never seen the show) and how she made sure that his nap mat was close to hers.

I thought it was sweet that our boy had found yet another friend to play with at school. And I really didn’t think about this fling with Lily again until that night as my husband kept the conversation rolling.

“Tell Mommy what you played,” he instructed.

“Husband and Wife.”

So now Lily was on my radar. Who was this girl really? Is it too early to have little boyfriends and girlfriends? What are the rules for dating in preschool? I managed to push aside all crazy thoughts and consoled myself with the knowledge that little kids play different games every day with different kids.

But that was before last night’s déjà vu when Little Dude informed me that once again he played “Husband and Wife” with this Lily kid. Two days in a row!

OK. Now I was a little concerned. As a woman, I was quite impressed with Lily’s girlish assertiveness. Somehow, she had gotten my wild child to forgo his normal rough and tumble play for the more mellow “husband and wife” role-play. But as a mother, I was a little weary of my sweet little boy falling prey to some potentially overbearing chick. Did she lure him in with superheroes (which he’s totally into right now) only to pull a bait and switch for her domestic agenda? Has she done this to other boys? Where will this all lead?

Yes, I realize that I have become that mother. All this time, I had teased me husband for being a self-proclaimed helicopter parent. But now I must acknowledge that I have become the hovering mom… at least where girls are involved.

There is still plenty of time before I really have to start worrying about girlfriends. Seriously, our little man is just a popular guy. So why wouldn’t Lily want to play with him too? And Little Dude is willing to play with anyone – boy or girl – as long as it’s fun. So he must be having fun if he’s willing to play “Husband and Wife” two days in a row. I'm sure he enjoys pretending to be just like his Daddy. He does like role-playing. After all, one of his friends used to be called “Buzz Lightyear” because he wore his Halloween costume everyday for a month straight. And Little Dude loved putting on a Superman cape or Batman mask and pretending to fight crime with him.

So I don’t need to get my panties in a bunch just because my precious little boy is playing “Husband and Wife” with his new friend. Who knows… maybe today they’ll go back to pretending to be Power Rangers. And if they don’t, that’s ok today. Of course, I never asked Little Dude if he was pretending to be the husband or the wife…