Merry Christmas to All...

I love the magic of Christmas! It's amazing! I found a picture on Facebook the other day that rang 1000% true. It said something like, "I used the think that being a kid on Christmas was the best thing ever but it turns out having kids on Christmas is." That statement is definitely true. Watching the excitement in their eyes as presents pile up under the tree. Hearing their little cherub voices singing "Away in a Manger" at our Christmas Even service tonight. Seeing the wonderment in their eyes as they stared at their candles during church tonight, singing Silent Night. Having Amelia pull me over to the Nativity scene at church and being so excited to see the baby Jesus FINALLY in his spot in the manger. Listening to their eager giggling as they snuggled into Amelia's bed together for their Christmas Eve sleepover while waiting for Santa. My heart fills with pride and love, adoration and excitement as I experience Christmas through the eyes of my two baby girls. It is truly amazing and I often find myself closing my eyes, choking back tears, and wishing that the moment would never end. I know time can't stand still, but if I could just will it to slow down...even for a moment. There is no part of these moments that I want to miss. I tucked the girls into bed tonight, after opening one gift, and told them to hurry to sleep so Santa would come. He wrote Amelia and Emerson letters earlier this month and told them that our house would be the first stop. That was amazing motivation for them to get right to sleep! There was no arguing or asking for more ice in their water. There was no telling me they needed to go potty and no asking for more blankets. It was right in and right to sleep. As I was giving out goodnight kisses, Amelia reached up and grabbed my neck. "Just one more thing, Mommy?" "Of course sweetheart!" "Well, is it one year from January to December?" "Yes, pretty much. 2013 ran from January to December and 2014 will do that too." "Well, mommy...I just have to say, that this was our best year EVER" "You're right, Amelia! I think every year just keeps getting better and better, don't you?" "Yup! I think so! And why wouldn't it? We have everything we want! Everything we need! And any year I get to be with you and Emerson is my best year!" My eyes filled with tears and all I could muster was a "I couldn't agree more, Amelia. Time spent with you and Em is my best year too!" "Good night, mommy! Don't stay up too late! Santa won't come, and we're his first stop, you know!" I smiled and said, "Yes, La...I know! Good night!" And then I made my way to the living room. I sat for a few minutes until I heard two little snoring girls in the next room and then I got to work. I ate some lovely cookies and drank some milk. I went outside to the deck and broke up the carrots into little pieces and scattered them. Not something I usually do, but the Santa we visited this year took extra time with my kiddos. He told them to go outside Christmas morning and look for carrot pieces that rolled off the roof while the reindeer ate them. Thanks a lot, Santa! I needed something else to remember...haha! It was kinda magical for even me while I was doing it though. I'm just picturing the girls' faces when they run out to the deck. I tucked Lily back into her Elf on the Shelf box (thanks to Richard's family for reminding me in their Facebook post!!) Then, I stood back at the end and took it all in. The happiness of the girls...the beauty of our lovely Christmas tree...the frost forming on the grass and porch outside...how blessed I am to have a job where I can get presents for all of us...what a glorious time of year! And then, just for a second, the image of my whole, complete family popped into my head. I'm not sure if any of my readers have experienced grief, but it catches you off guard...when you least expect it. And at that moment, it caught me and it knocked the stuffing out of me. It caught my breath, just for a moment, but that moment was enough to let it in. And my heart broke in two. Sharing a private moment with all of you, I spend a lot of my time in anger. My grief is mostly anger. But every once in a while, and for sure on Christmas Eve, what starts off as anger turns into sadness. As I'm running around playing Santa for my girls, every year it catches me off guard. I'm the only one here playing Santa. I'm putting together toys and setting things out just right. I'm going to ballet recitals and Nutcracker practice. I'm baking cookies and putting together teacher gifts. I'm mailing out cards and wrapping presents. And for all the fun I have doing all of those things, and for all the thankfulness I have in my heart that I am doing those things and getting to be a part of all of that, there's also the piece where I miss my partner. I miss my husband. I miss my friend. I miss shopping for the girls together and being so excited over our purchases. I miss slapping his hand as he stole cookies off of the pan. I miss having some sort of lookout while I set stuff out from Santa. I miss my husband. And in the middle of all of the decorations and gifts from Santa, I cry. I grieve. I beg to go back in time, if even for a moment. I get angry at all that he's missing out on. The girls' ballet recitals are another emotional time for me because I get angry that he's gone then too. I get upset that he's missing out on their lives. On our holidays. On our Christmas. And then...the moment passes. The grief subsides. And life goes on. I turn and switch the light off and smile at the stockings hanging and ready. I walk to the girls' room and walk in, pausing to listen to their breathing and smiling as I see they are snuggled close together, waiting for the time to pass before they can wake me up and head to see their new treasures. And the grief is tucked away once again. Because this is the most wonderful time of year! And there is no place for grief. We are happy, and healthy, and blessed more than most! I have a lovely home, two beautiful girls that I get all to myself, a spacious yard to play in. I have family all around, my parents right next door. I have my sis in town for a bit with her little angel babies. I have a church family that I love. I have friends who help out with so many things...watching the girls while I'm at work, driving them to and from school, driving them to ballet practice. I have a school that my kids' love to attend, and I have a school that is a huge part of family for me. I have friends that would do anything for me, and DO do anything for me. I have so much in my life! And I can't complain! So, I let that grief sneak in for a bit, because I deserve that also, but I tuck it away and move forward! Because tomorrow is Christmas! And I get to wake up to Amelia and Emerson! That's all that I have on my list! Is waking up to those two precious little ones and knowing that I'm their momma and I love them with all my being! So, my family sends Christmas blessings to your family! I hope that you close your eyes at the important little moments and will time to slow down, if even for second because time goes too fast and we all needs those moments! Slow down and enjoy them! Grieve for the ones that you have lost and remember them in this time also, but tuck that away and move forward! There are so many more memories to be made! Be glad that you're still here to make those memories, and then go make them! Merry Christmas to all...and to all a good night!!

Alexander was Right...

Today's blog post is not an adorable quip from one of my children. My sister is in town (YAY!) and they have played until they are way too tired, so both girls went to bed without saying a word other than, "Goodnight, Mommy..." A big part of my job as a speech therapist is social skills. Working with special education children, many of my students are somewhere on the Autism spectrum, and many of them don't understand social language. The curriculum that I use (which is fabulous and I buy into it whole-heartedly) has whole lessons centered on teaching the children to differentiate between a big problem and a small problem. This is a lesson that you think kids would just pick up, but this is not the case. Many of my children struggle with knowing what is something that warrants a small reaction, and what is something that warrants the huge explosions of behavior that we often see. Today, I'm pretty sure I had a day that warranted a big, huge explosion...luckily, I've worked through my curriculum a few times and know how to calm myself. And, I'm also lucky that I have great friends, coworkers, and dad to help me out of my messes. There is a book that I've read to my children (both my children by blood, and my little struggling social learners) called Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. This book is about a little boy who has the worst day ever. From the time he wakes up, until the time that he goes to bed, everything goes wrong. His solution throughout the book is that he needs to move to Australia. After today, I think that solution is perfect! From the time I woke up until the time I crawled into bed, things just kept going wrong. I had to take sick leave today for a doctor's appointment in Seattle. I got there early. The receptionist told me I'd get to go in early, but that didn't happen. The scale said I was heavier...impossible! The growth chart said I shrank an inch...what?! I went into my appointment with high hopes, only to have them dashed away by the end of the appointment. I felt like it was a waste of time...a waste of money...a waste of leave. I got to the ferry at 1:00...perfect! There was a 1:10 Bainbridge or a 1:30 Bremerton. I chose the Bainbridge...wrongly. Traffic was awful! Bumper to bumper going at a turtle's pace across the entire island. On my way off the island, my phone died. Then, I remembered that it was supposed to snow and I had stuff in my office at work for Christmas...and files to send...and my planner! Oh dear...off to school I went. I checked in at the party they were having, waving to my people, watched some gifts being opened, got much needed hugs from my favorite, and finally got in the truck for home. I got home, and ran up to my mom's house to spend time with my sister. Oh...first, I need to plug in my phone. Huh...where IS my phone? I empty my purse onto my mom's counter, including the princess book I bought for the girls from the Elf. It was not in my purse. I started thinking about where it could be...and then I remembered taking it out of my pocket...at work. So, I run down to my truck, praying it's in there. And...of course it isn't. So, I get back in my truck and drive back to Jackson Park, which is about 20 minutes from my house. I go to my office. No. I ask the custodian for the keys to the portable. Not in there either. I walk to my friend's classroom. She still happens to be there. I ask her about my phone. She comes and helps me look. Not in the library. Not in the work room. Not in my mailbox. We walk back to my office and she helps me look in there. Nothing...so, I decide it has to be either in my truck, or I've lost it somewhere between school and home. So, I retrace my steps to the parking lot. Then, I go to my truck to start searching. I take out my flashlight and look all over the passenger side. It's not in the seat, or under the seat. It's not on that side. I stand up, lock the door and close it and walk around to the driver's side. I was somewhere at the back of my truck when I realize...I don't have my keys in my hand. Please let them be in my pocket! They weren't. Luckily, I snuck into the school through the gym to my friend's classroom. I called my parents to ask if they could meet me with a spare key. My dad drives the 20 minutes to Jackson Park with my spare and I drive home. I'm tired. I'm cranky. I'm phone-less. I'm a mess. I was ready to move to Austrailia for sure! I have a student that whenever something goes wrong, even a small problem, he often will say, "Today is the worst day of my life!" In jest, I said this to my friend after the key incident. It was a horrible day! The worst day of my life? Probably not. In my thinking about the day's events after I tucked the girls into bed, it made me giggle thinking about my day. It was awful, but it was no where near the worst day of my life. That happened a few years ago. And the lesson that I learned from that day? It puts everything into perspective for me. I am an over-exaggerater sometimes. So, like my little friend, I will often say things like "that was the worst day ever!" or "That's the biggest mistake I've ever made." I used to throw those phrases out all the time. And now when I say them? It seems silly. Today was not the worst day of my life. A lot of things happened that made it not so great, but I will survive the day and be ok! Locking my keys in my car isn't the end of the world. Losing my cell phone has actually been a blessing for now. Sure, I'm panicked that I don't have a phone in my house at this moment, but I haven't gone on Facebook, I haven't received texts, I haven't had to check e-mail. It's been kinda nice! So, when you catch yourself thinking that this is the worst day of your entire life, think hard! Is it? Is your problem a big problem, or a small problem? Sure, it might seem big at the time, but when you give it some perspective, it falls off the wayside. It's not a big deal. You can get through it! That's the funny thing about terrible, horrible, no good very bad days. They get you through the days when the drama's not as hightened. They help you see that it's ok to lock your keys in the car. Worse things could happen... If you need me, you'll have to just stop by and visit! LOL! And if you see a white iPhone with my "Every Play I'm Russellin" Seahawks case, let me know! In the meantime, maybe I should check flights to Austrailia.

Triangles, or Circles?

I graduated with a 3.998 from high school, and scored in the 1300s on my SATs. I was on the Dean's List many times in college. I graduated with honors from grad school. I have my Masters degree. I feel like I am sorta smart, most days...and I always had a fear that one day I would be helping my kids with their homework, and I wouldn't understand it. I just didn't realize that that day would come when Emerson was three and in preschool. I'm sort of kidding, but helping her with her homework tonight had me scratching my head a bit...enough that I took a picture of it and send it to my friend to laugh about. The directions at the top of the paper seemed pretty clear to me: Find and color all of the triangles. Pretty straight forward, right? Well, in the opposite corner of the paper it said: Skill: recognizing circles. It made me giggle while I was watching Emerson color all the triangles. The directions did not match the skill that was supposedly being taught. So, we colored all the triangles and giggled at the directions all night. As I was tucking Amelia into bed, she started giggling all over again. "Mommy, can you believe that her paper said to color the triangles and then tried to trick us into thinking she was learning about circles?" "That is pretty funny, isn't it?" "Yeah...kinda like how Satan tries to trick us, isn't it?" I paused and looked at her for a second...long enough that I could see the connection and to give her time to explain what she was thinking. "Tell me more about that sweetheart." "Well, Satan is always trying to trick us into doing something we shouldn't. Like when we should be reading our Bible, but we decide to watch TV instead. Or like when we should be going to church, but we decide we'd rather sleep in. God is trying to get us to learn something, like the triangles, but Satan is telling us we're learning about circles." Holy cow! Where does this kid come up with this stuff? I really wish I had named my blog something different and take credit for the things that she comes up with. But, instead I get to be the momma that brags about her super smart daughter! She is not only super smart and makes amazing connections, but she also has an amazing faith in our God. She knows her faith, and knows how to make the connections from that faith to the things she needs in her daily walk with him. I shook my head at her and told her she was amazing! She grinned at me and said, "I know! God made me that way!" I gave her a kiss, turned the light off, and headed for bed. It was a long day! This little lesson can apply to many areas of our lives. How many times have you thought that the lesson was about triangles, only to find out it was really about circles. The worksheet is sort of a bad example of this, as I think that the skill was really a typo. But, the basic premise of what I'm trying to stretch this into is there. How many times have you started into a life lesson thinking you were getting triangles, only to discover it is really actually about circles. Growing up, I was always going to be a doctor. I was destined for medical school. I worked hard in high school. I shadowed doctors. I volunteered in hospitals and clinics. I was going to medical school. I started my freshman year at the University of Washington with all four years planned out with what I needed to do to apply to medical school. I was studying triangles. And then, something happened that altered the course of my plan. Triangles weren't going to cut it anymore. And I started down my career path of being a speech language pathologist. Many times in life you start off thinking that the direction of your path is going one way, when really the direction is going to veer off and change entirely. And this doesn't just happen one time. It can happen multiple times. Just when I thought life was all figured out and I was headed to medical school, life threw me a curveball and I changed my plan. And then I started down the path to the new plan, got my job, got married, had babies, and the plan changed again. I started off thinking it was all about triangles, when in reality I was gaining skills on circles. The lesson here in all of this? I think there are several...at least that I can come up with. I'm sure Amelia could present us with 100 more. But MY lesson? The one that is most important in my eyes? Find the joy and humor and the part that makes you laugh in these game changers. Dig up the resilience that it takes to press forward and keep going, even when the plan veers. The points in my life where my plan was changed, the parts where I found out that I was going to be learning about circles, not triangles, were life lessons. They were bumps in the road where God was telling me that His path for me was different than where I thought we were going. I wasn't happy about it. And there are still many days where I'm not happy with it. But, I moved on. I did what I needed to do to get through those moments (I'm still doing what I need to do to get through those moments!) and I'm enjoying the lesson on circles that I'm getting. I have learned so much in my lifetime. Even in the last few years! I have learned lessons that I thought I would never have to! I have learned things that I never wanted to! I have learned things that I never thought I would even believe, let alone learn about! And the ride has been amazing! Through all of the struggles and heartache. Through all of the path changing and life-altering moments, I wouldn't change a thing. I gained my two babies. I met people, and became close to people that I may not have ever had the chance to meet. I have gained people in my life that have been crucial to my moving on and moving through. And I am blessed! As frustrating as it was to see that I wasn't learning about triangles after all, I would not change a thing. The lessons that I have learned have built me into who I am today! I CAN be flexible in my thinking. I CAN learn about circles AND triangles. I CAN survive ANYTHING! So, take THAT, common core...

Make it Count!

I still have a mailbox. I've thought of switching to a P.O. Box many times, but the thought of having to make one more stop on my way home to get my mail makes me crazy! And in order to have that mailbox and feel like it's more secure, it is not in front of my house. It's around the corner in front of my parents house, clustered with a couple other mailboxes. This placement confuses so many people. I have the county approved blue reflective sign at the bottom of my driveway with my house numbers posted. But people still get confused about how to find my house. My parents live next door to us. And quite frequently I have to call them. I ask them to check their porch for deliveries that have been delivered because they are not at my house. Oftentimes, they get the organic groceries that I have delivered. And even the pizza man gets confused. My parents driveway isn't marked at all, but they tend to always get our stuff. I had to share that story to tell you this next one, which is the actual basis for my blog post tonight. I order a lot of things and I think that I have a new mail carrier, because more often than not, I'll get the little brown postcard attached to my door saying that they tried to deliver a package, but they won't leave it. The reason? No house numbers. REALLY?? It's at the bottom of my driveway...posted to the fencepost at the bottom of my driveway. My house numbers are not actually on my house, but I never thought this would be so difficult as it is for people. So, I had to go to the post office. Friday, after school, I had the choice to work on progress reports, or go to the post office and head home a little early. After many attempts to work, and many interruptions, I decided to just head home. I called ahead and ordered Chinese food, and headed for the post office. I got there around 4:30 and walked into the lobby. I was met by a line of about 30 people, and one...window...open. I was impatient just looking at the line, but I got in line. I needed to pick up my package, and I also needed stamps. My Christmas cards have been addressed for about three weeks now, but I can't send them out because I didn't have stamps. The line was moving ok. I pulled out my phone and started checking Facebook. I was half listening to the man in front of me. He was cheerfully talking to the woman in front of him about Friday the 13th. Then he told us how he was going to go home and wrap lumpia for a party. People began joking with each other. I put my phone away and watched what was going on. Instead of the typical hurried, anxious, tired, angry mob the people in line were talking, making friends in line. There was a sweet little old lady in line a few people in front of us. She reminded me of my grandmother. She got to the front of the line and mailed her packages. She also needed stamps. My attention turned to the man behind me. He was sighing heavily and muttering under his breath about how ridiculous it was there was only one window open. Grandma was at the counter asking to look at the Christmas stamps. She was shaking her head and telling the postman how she just couldn't decide which picture she wanted. I smiled. The man behind said some not nice words and said, "Lady, they're just stamps! Pick one and get out of the way!" I turned around, as did the rest of the line, and frowned at him. He looked at all of us and said, "What?" The man in front of me said, "It's OK! We're making friends! And there is no greater decision than the stamps for your Christmas cards. It's the one time of year we tell everyone that we love them, that we miss them, that we let people know how we're doing. That deserves a good stamp." I could feel my heart filling with love, and my eyes filling with tears. I was that man when I walked into the post office. All I wanted was to get my Chinese food and get home to my girls. But that interaction was important for me to witness! This weekend, I slowed down a bit. I'm still a little panicked at all the things that I have to get done, but mostly things at work. The girls and I had a fabulous weekend, decorating our house, getting ready for Christmas. We didn't get done. We didn't get close to done, but we spent time together. We slowed down for just a little bit and captured memories. They helped me unwrap things from our Christmas boxes. They wanted to hear stories. I got to tell them how we have a tradition to buy one Christmas village house every Christmas. I told them about my sweet grandma and how she collected mice. And when her house burned down, her mice were salvaged and how I got her mice. I put each old, broken, worn mouse on my mantle, and cried an ocean of tears as I thought about her house. I used to sit in the chair next to the wall where her mice sat and looked at all of the funny little mice. I told the girls about the Christmas plate from 2006, Brian and my first Christmas together as husband and wife, and how I was pregnant with Amelia that Christmas. So many special memories. As I was tucking Amelia into bed tonight, I told her how much I loved her and what a fun weekend we had. We kissed and I turned off her light. Then, "Mommy, just one more thing! I'm kinda sad!" "Why, sweetheart?" "It was a good weekend, but we didn't get very much done. Why did it have to go so fast? I think every weekend we have is shorter than the one before!" "It does go fast, Amelia, but it's not about what we get done or how much time we have. It's about the time that we got to spend together and how we spent the time. I had a great weekend. And no, we didn't get nearly enough done, but it doesn't matter! I loved sharing stories with you. I loved that we danced to the snowman iPod speaker. I love that you helped me put together decorations that bring my the best memories ever. So, it did go too fast, but let's look at it as getting us closer to the next weekend we get together, which brings us to Christmas break, OK? "OK, mommy! I can't wait to stay home with you!" "I can't wait either! I love you..." "I love you too!" And as I walked to the living room to complete a few more tasks I had to do before bed, I smiled. The man in the post office is right, and I have felt it more this year than ever. The past few years I haven't wanted to bring things out. Decorating was too hard. Going through boxes was too difficult. There was too much and I just couldn't handle it. This year, we're not getting done quickly either, but it's not about wanting to. It's about savoring every minute of the holidays. It does go fast! Time goes too fast! There isn't time to do anything. And more often than not, I find myself saying that. There are so many things that people feel like the HAVE TO get done, but I'm sure if you think about it, it can wait! Christmas comes whether all 25 Santas are out or not. It'll be here with or without a Christmas tree. And Santa can eat Oreos just as easily as he can eat fancy homemade sugar cookies. And if you try to do it all, you get lost in the process. Don't!! A few of my teacher friends and I were talking at lunch the other day about how there's not time to just come home from work and enjoy Christmas with our kids. And that's wrong! We need to make that a priority. I'm not an expert and I don't have the magic that will tell you how to make that happen. But I am telling you to make your own magic and try and figure it out! Make time to make those moments happen. We have a huge basket of Christmas books. We haven't read them yet. We need to! We have plans to go to Zoolights with friends. We haven't yet. There's no time where everyone can go. We need to! I haven't sent out the Christmas cards. We need to! And when I look at my plain, old stamps I think of how that played out in the post office. I need to be more like that little old grandma and make buying those stamps the most important thing in the world at that moment. And I also need to be more like the man in front of me, who reminded a whole post office full of people that there should be nothing more important than those stamps. Who reminded us all that we need to slow down and be better people. Why do we wait until Christmas to check on the people that we love? Why do we only choose stamps at this time of year? We're busy! And I get that. So, since we only do it one time a year, we should make it count. I guess that's the message I want to get across more than anything. Make it count! Don't let the time get sucked away. Don't let the cards be another chore on your to do list. Don't let household chores and work tasks get in the way of the reason for the season. I hung our nativity countdown calendar on the wall and in my frenzy of trying to get things done, I snapped at Amelia when she asked if we could put the days up for the 500th time. And then I thought of post office guy. I set down what I was doing and walked over and took it off the wall. We sat down in the chair and did the calendar together. Because that's what I've been preaching on. The reason for the season...stop and make the most of it! Make it count. Because it does go way too fast and before we know it, it'll be gone! Make those memories. Figure out what it important! Once you do, there will be a way! Make it count!

Buzz!

Tonight's Amelia moment was her excitement over what they learned in Science. We talked about it most of the evening. It started off with her usual hinting about what her favorite subject is, followed by a hundred "Guess whats" and "You'll never guesses", and then a few hours of discussing her science topic. "Mommy! You'll never guess what we talked about in science today!" "Umm...dinosaurs?" "Mommy...don't be ridiculous. OK, I'll give you a hint. It's an animal and I'm allergic to it." "Dogs?" "Mommy! I'm VERY allergic to it." "Ohh...bees?" "Yup! It was so cool! Did you know there are some bees without a stinger? Those would be my most favorite, of course, because...well, you know...they couldn't sting me." "Did you talk about all kinds of bees? Like wasps and hornets?" "Mostly we talked about honeybees..." And the rest of our night would go between laying on the floor playing with our nativity scene Little People and hearing random facts about bees. I learn a lot from my little first grader, and her favorite subject is science. It used to be recess and lunch when she first started school, but her teacher, Ms. D has really encouraged her passion for science, which I think is wonderful! I love the things that we talk about, and I've loved all of the things that I've gotten to learn about just from listening to Amelia talk and also from the google sessions that are required after. We finished the evening with our regular routine, intermittantly talking about bees. I listened to her speak excitedly about all the things she'd learned about bees and it made me smile. She is pretty allergic to bees and her reaction gets worse each time she is stung. She got stung by one about a year ago. She was playing outside barefoot and stepped on one in the clover. I brought her in the kitchen and pulled the stinger out. I washed it and made a meat tenderizer paste and she went on her way playing. About an hour later we did bath and she told me her foot hurt. Not my proudest mom moment, but I patted her head and told her she was fine. She got out of the tub and was hopping on one foot. I rolled my eyes and told her to stop it, that it wasn't that bad. We read our stories and we were walking to her room and she asked me to carry her because her foot hurt. I shook my head and told her that she was fine and she needed to stop. She crawled to her bed and I started to cover her up and tuck her in when I noticed her leg. Her foot was swollen so badly that you couldn't tell where one toe ended and the other began. He foot was at least three sizes bigger than it should be. It was hot to the touch and her leg was red all the way up her leg just above her knee. I called my parents who came and stayed with Emerson and my dad and I took off for the ER. I felt awful! They checked her leg and checked her lungs and made sure she wasn't having any respiratory distress. And the doctor wrote me a prescription for an EpiPen. I smiled and told him that we already had them stashed all over the house and the car and my purse and...he smiled and said, go fill it. You'll need them! So I did... When I took Amelia in for allergy testing, they did the bees first. It's just through a simple blood test (which Amelia HATES!). The results of that blood test indicated that Amelia is very allegic to bees...all six types they test for, except for yellow jackets, which the allergist said he would guess that was a fluke, and that I shouldn't let her get stung by those either! Not like I'm going to ask the bee what type it is if it stings her. So, of course right after allergy testing comes summer and how many stings did we get? Ugh...so scary. She never goes barefoot anymore. But, she didn't see the one that was getting a drink on the water faucet handle when she grabbed for it. And who would have thought there would be a hornet in the pile of stuffed animals in the playroom that stung her three times. And then there was the honeybee that climbed into her boot while we were playing outside. Poor kid! Luckily, our reactions haven't warranted an EpiPen injection...yet. But like I said, each sting gives us a worse reaction. And the type of bee definitely matters to her. Like the hornet? Three times on the leg and we only got welts on her leg right around where the stings were and it didn't do much more than that. The honeybee? One sting on her ankle...the stinger was still in it so I scraped it off with a credit card (which is a trick the allergist told me. It takes the stinger out without leaving the poison behind in the skin.) I packed it with meat tenderizer, elevated her leg, put ice packs on it, and gave her Benedryl immediately and it was still a bit scary. She gets so swollen and you can watch and see the poison creep up her leg. So, having her learn about bees and talk about them excitedly was amazing to me. She kind of hates them and is scared of them. So, I'm tucking her into bed tonight and she's throwing some more bee facts at me. I smile and say, "Hey Amelia, it sounds like you are really interested in bees." "Yeah, I am! They are awesome!" "So, do you think learning about them makes you less afraid of the bees?" "Mommy, what are you talking about? I'm not afraid of bees!" "You're not?? What about this summer when you refused to go outside for a while after you got stung because you didn't want to risk getting stung again." "Oh, that. I'm not afraid of bees! I think bees are cool. I'm just afraid of their stingers!" I smiled at my girl and told her she had a very good point! She rolled her eyes at me and said, "Good one mommy...get it? Point...stinger..." I shook my head, kissed her and told her I loved her. She said it back and rolled over and went to sleep. Her statement made me giggle (not the corny joke...the not being afraid of bees, just their stingers) but then, like usual, it made me think. And the more I thought about it, the more profound the information I got from it. Just think about it for a minute. What if we compartmentalized our fears and stressors like that for everything. Would it make life simpler? Easier to deal with? What if I thought hard about my fears and rather than hating and fearing the entire bee, I was just afraid of the stinger? Would we give things a second glance if we didn't fear the big picture, but just the little pieces that actually cause the hurt and pain. I feel this thought goes much further than just the things we fear. What about arguments we have with others? Disagreements we have. I know that in discipline, we often tell our children, "I love you, but I don't love what you did" or something similar along those lines. The bee thing is the same idea. Don't fear the whole bee, because if you do, you may miss the good things about the bee. And when you really stop and think, you find out why bees sting in the first place, to protect themselves. So, when Amelia brought up the fact that there are bees that don't have stingers, I told her I was sad for them. Amelia looked at me and asked me "why?" I told her because they didn't have a way to protect themselves, what if something was trying to kill them. "Umm, Mommy...they have a backup plan. They can just fly away! Which I would really prefer because you don't need an EpiPen for that!" True story, Amelia...luckily Amelia has her EpiPen as backup. And we have our own "EpiPens" to fix the crises that we face day to day. But as we are grumbling and complaining and worrying about what might happen, we need to remember the bee. Look for the good, and instead of blaming the whole bee, just blame that stinger. It hurts, but just for a little bit, and there is much more to the bee than that stinger!

I'm with the Drummer

Our family is the proud owner of a drum set. Which seems normal maybe until I tell you that part of Amelia's sensory stuff when she was little was auditory. She hated (hates??) loud noises. The Fourth of July was a terrifying experience for her. She would refuse to go to the bathroom in public if the toilets flushed on their own. Fire alarms scared her to death. She did not like loud noises and still isn't very fond of them. One of my closest friends is married to a drummer. We were at their house one day and he was out with the drums. Amelia wandered out and starting talking to him about the drums. He apparently handed her a pair of drumsticks and before I knew it, they were telling me to come to the garage. There, my auditorily impacted little girl was banging on the drums and cymbals with all her might. I was dumbfounded. I couldn't believe she was tolerating the crashing and the banging. She was playing her little heart out. So, fast forward a little bit and before I knew it, a mini drumset was being carried inside my house as a birthday present for Miss Amelia. She was thrilled! And I gained a drummer in my family as well. Well, after a while, I actually gained TWO drummers. The littlest one loves the drums even more than the big one. She plays all the time. In the middle of the night when she wakes up and can't sleep. In the morning when she should be getting dressed for school. Before bed when she should be getting her jammies on. She drums with her hands on tables. She drums with markers when we're doing homework. She drums under the table with chopsticks at Chinese restaurants. Emerson loves to drum, and she has amazing rhythm for a three-year-old, even better than Amelia. Emerson's favorite show is The Fresh Beat Band and her favorite charater is Marina, the drummer. So, when we asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she said she wanted another drumset, just like Marina's. So, I casually googled that and there is no way I'm going to be able to get Emerson a drum set like Marina's. Amelia decided a while ago that that is what she wanted to get Emerson. And Amelia had two reasons. One, it would be a great gift to get her sister and it would make Emerson super happy and two, she would get HER drumset back. But there just isn't such a gift around. There is not a drumset like Marina's to be found. Tonight when I got home from work, I looked for the five thousanth time and couldn't see anything remotely close to what Emerson wanted. I had to tell Amelia that she'd have to pick something else for her sister. So, as I was tucking Amelia into bed, I broke the news to her. She immediately wanted to tell Emerson. It wouldn't be fair to let Emerson be excited thinking she was getting her drums and then wake up Christmas morning and not get them. I tried to explain to Amelia that Emerson would be fine. That we would find her a different present than I was sure would make her happy. Amelia was so sad for Emerson. She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, "Mommy, this was not the plan at all! I was going to get this for Emerson and she was going to be so happy. And now look! The plan is gone. It's ruined. This is not what I had in mind at all! Now what are we going to do?" I held Amelia close, told her she was an amazing sister, and that the purpose of Christmas wasn't about drumsets or even presents for that matter. The best part of Christmas is being together, celebrating the birth of our Savior, celebrating love, joy, peace, hope, and all the things that Christmastime is about. Getting to be with family and friends. It's THOSE things. Not drumsets. I told her that Emerson would understand, and she would love whatever we got her for Christmas. Amelia wiped her eyes and said, "You're right, mommy! We've been through a lot together! I'm sure that no drumsets at Christmas is not going to be the worst thing to happen to us. Pretty sure we've already been through those things! And if we can make it through that and be ok, then this is a piece of cake! Right, mommy?" I kissed the top of her head and said, "Right, Amelia! We are fighters and survivors. And not getting a drumset is not going to be the thing that takes us down." Amelia giggled, tucked under her covers and told me goodnight and that she loved me. I told her I loved her back and made my way to the living room. Most of my loyal readers know (ha...do I HAVE loyal readers still?) that this is where I make a sappy life connection, and tonight is going to be no different. The plan. The plan was that Amelia was going to get her sister another drumset and that Emerson was going to love it and all would be well. But the plan changed. It didn't end the way Amelia wanted it to. Emerson is not getting her drumset. The plan changed and Amelia was sad and it wasn't supposed to happen this way. I posted a few days ago about grief and the holidays and sadness and how I try very hard to make the positive shine through. It's getting a little bit harder. The stress of work and tying up things before leaving on break. The 800 things I have to do between now and Christmas. The excitement of my sister and her family coming up from California. And the moments that steal my breath away as I try and wade through the happiness and excitement with the moments that drop me to my knees and cause the floodgates to open. The plan. The plan was that I was going to be married forever. I was going to get my fairy tale. We were going to live our happily ever after. We were going to be a whole family because I would never be a statistic. One that didn't make it into their golden years with a spouse. I would never be the one that was a single mom raising her children without a father. But the plan changed. It did not end the way I wanted it to. I'm not getting my fairytale ending and I'm sad and it wasn't supposed to happen this way. BUT...and thank God for the BUT. It wasn't supposed to happen this way, BUT in God's hands, I am safe and secure and it's not MY plan in the first place. It's HIS plan! I didn't get my fairytale, or at least the fairytale that I envisioned in my head. But, I know that that doesn't matter. I don't need my fairytale ending that I envisioned. I need my girls. I need to be focused on them, and being their momma, and I get to have the honor and priveledge of doing just that. I don't have to share my children. I get them all to myself. I'm the one they call for in the night. I'm the one that holds them when they cry. I'm the one that helps them memorize pageant parts and practice ballet steps. I get to witness their eagerness for Christmas all on my own. I get to hear their secrets and have them whisper their dreams to me. This is my plan...this is GOD'S plan! Had I gotten my way, had I gotten to follow through on MY plan, I wouldn't be where I am today. We are safe, and secure, and happy, and we know that we are loved by friends and family. We know that we are cradled in our Father's loving arms. We know that we didn't get the drumset that we were hoping for, but we got something even better! We have the love of our family of three. We have the world at our feet and we have a slate that is fresh and clean and ready to write our life story. I went through many years of sorrow and pain to get to this moment. And I won't paint a picture that is all rosy and bright, because I have been in tears more often in the last couple weeks than not, but writing this blog and being able to tie my cheesy life lessons into the conversations with my daughters makes me realize that I have my fairytale. Through the tears and the heartbreak, I can listen to the voices of my babies and remember that I didn't get my drumset, but the gift waiting for me under the tree is even grander than that! I get my girls, and the exponential joy that comes from them! Plus, we already have the only drumset we need...mommy's head probably couldn't take two of them. Thanks, dear friends...you know who you are... <3

Time Flies...

I yelled at my kids tonight. I try really hard not to. I hate yelling...and I hate how it makes my kids feel. And then I hate how I feel afterwards. I'm pretty sure I've talked before about how our nightly routine includes reading. As part of Amelia's reading homework, we are supposed to read at least thirty minutes a day. I truly cherish this time with my kids. We sit in my bed and we laugh and talk. They ask me 1,000 questions. It makes my heart happy. Thirty minutes of reading is a lot, so when they asked me a few weeks ago if they could draw pictures while I was reading I gladly allowed that to happen. There are certain things they cannot do, like watch the iPad, or read another book, but if they want to draw pictures, they can. I love the pictures that they come up with! And actually, many of the pictures they draw have to do with the story that we are reading, so I'm good with the pictures. There's only a few problems with the drawing. Since we read books in my room, my room has sort of become an art disaster. There are colored pencils all over my nightstand. There is paper all over the floor. I find crayons in my bed when I throw the covers back. It is an art disaster. There are pictures of fairies and goblins and Jack Frost all over my dresser, and tucked under my pillow, and under my bed. And because we read right up until I tuck them into bed, I don't make them pick up. Instead, I put things in piles on my nightstand until it is buried under a sea of little girl fantasies on paper. Tonight was no different. Amelia sat next to me coloring fairies on bright yellow paper. When I was done with our story, she showed me her pictures and told me about them. And then she stacked them on the nightstand with the last few weeks' drawings. As she did that, I heard what sounded like 100 colored pencils fall behind my nightstand. I held my forehead and sighed as she apologized and said she'd pick them up. I told her it was ok, that we could do it later. As we walked to the foot of my bed I found Emerson sitting on the floor looking at me with a very guilty expression on her face. "Emerson, what are you doing?" "Mupin, mommy" (Nothing, mommy.) "Um...why don't I believe you?" "I don't know..." she said back, not moving from her spot. Then I noticed the green dry erase marker in her hand...with no paper anywhere near her. "Emerson, please stand up." "No, thanks, mommy..." I reached down and grabbed her hand to lift her and she laid on the ground, just enough to expose some of the green marker on my tan carpet. "Oh, Emerson! What did you do?" and then the yelling started. With both girls standing at the foot of my bed in the art disaster, I ranted about colored pencils and paper and marker on my carpet and how this was MY bedroom and they need to pick up their messes. Amelia stood behind Emerson, with her hands on my shoulders as I continued on. I then told them they had one minute to get me their water cups for bed and they both took off running. I was mad. My room hasn't ever really been neat. My room is the dumping ground for everything. I have lots of boxes from my Scentsy business, just in case I need them someday. My room becomes the collection place for lost toys. I have boxes of things to donate to Goodwill, and boxes to donate to friends. And there is a lot of stuff that just has never found a home. And now added to that is the art disaster. I'm not proud of my room, or my house on some days, but I do the best I can. As many of you know, it's tough to work full time, and have two kids. I have lots of help and I'm thankful to all of the people that help us out, but I'm responsible for nighttime routine such as dinner and bath and reading. Then there's laundry and the other regular house chores. My room has double locking doors. I can throw all of the things that I don't want other people seeing and lock the doors and no one would know I'm a few boxes short of gaining auditions for Hoarders. I went and filled the girls' waters and Emerson followed me around with tears in her eyes. "You happy with me, mommy?" "I'm disappointed that you colored on my carpet and I'm sad that you hurt my room. But I still love you." We walked to Amelia's room. She was laying on her bed crying. "What's wrong, Amelia?" "I'm just sad." "Why are you sad?" "I'm the worst daughter in the whole world!" "Why would you say that?" "Because, you're the best mommy in the world. The least I could do is make sure that we take care of your room. I should pick up the things that I use and I should pick up the house better than I do." And then my heart got a little bit sad because this isn't want I wanted to happen. I don't want to shame my children into thinking that the mess is all their fault because it's not! But, I also don't want this to be the message I'm sending. "Amelia, and Emerson, it is NOT ok to write on my carpet. And Emerson, you know this. Emerson, where do we use markers?" "On paper." "Right. On paper. Did you use paper?" "No...sorry, mommy..." "I'm sorry too. I'm sorry that I yelled." Amelia scrunched up her nose and looked at me. "Mommy, tomorrow I'll pick up your whole room all by myself." "No, you're not going to do that. Amelia...Emerson, this is not what I want for us! I know it's important to pick up our things. We need to try and remember to just put away the things we use when we're done with them. But, you know what? Cleaning is not why I became a mommy. That is not the reason I became a mommy. And yelling is not something that I want to do as a mommy. So, we are going to work together to help each other remember to pick up our things when we are done with them. You know why? Because then there will be more time to do the things we love! I don't want to spend our time together cleaning and picking up. I want to spend our time laughing and reading. I want to draw fairy pictures and decorate our house for Christmas. I want to have time to go make Christmas memories with MomMom and Pa. I want to go to Nana's and laugh and play and have a fun time. I want to dance to music in our kitchen. I want to play and pretend and dress up and have tea parties. And we won't have time for all those things if I'm so worried about picking up the house. We are fine! And we are a family! And I want to do family things. And if we pick up every once in a while, that's a good thing too! But I don't want to yell about it." Amelia smiled and said that she agreed with me. She said she would try and remember to pick up her things, and she would help me slowly pick up things a little at a time. And I vowed to appreciate the fairy drawings on my nightstand because before I know it, they won't be there anymore. Time goes way to fast. And I know there's most likely a happy medium between the house I have now and the OCD house that I would like to have. But until then, I'm going to relax about how it looks and cherish the little moments. I'm going to look at the fairy drawings on the nightstand in a different light and know that there will be time for cleaning and making sure everything is perfect later. Right now, I need to appreciate the crayons on the floor, and the toys placed here and there throughout the house. I love the little handprints on my windows, and the stuffed animals in my bed. The time goes too fast! Just yesterday I was bringing the girls home from the hospital and now I have a three year old and a six year old. The time is going fast and although Emerson still needs to use paper, I need to slow the pace down and cherish the moments. Now, to find out how to get dry erase marker out of my carpet!