Hope in a Boy's World

Adding some more gray hairs to my head

2012-01-16T10:33:00.000-08:00

As of 5 days ago, I am tempted to slap a few of these stickers on the back of my oh-so-not-cool minivan. My oldest is now a permitted driver and I am watching new gray hairs appear by the minute. That being said, I have to admit that I was the one who encouraged this monumental decision. Quinn had written off the possibility due to his broken collarbone and subsequent recovery. He figured that taking Driver's Ed. would need to be put off until the summer and nothing else was mentioned--even on his 15th birthday. In the state of Washington, if a teenager is enrolled in a driver's training course, he or she is able to get a learner's permit at the age of 15. Otherwise, 15 1/2 is the rule. When we looked at the schedule of one of the local driving school's, it appeared that the class times would conflict with the spring soccer schedule. As I perused other websites I found one that was just 5 weeks as opposed to 7 weeks and would be completed by the end of February. I just did not want to commit to having to stay in town for 5 straight weeks over the summer. At this particular school, if you registered by January 30th, they gave a $50 discount. Done! (when I was 15, driver's ed was part of the school district curriculum as an elective.) I know that I'm the parent and could have fully said no to the experience entirely but something tells me that at this time next year, with my school schedule, I am going to need an additional driver in the house. Also, I figured that it couldn't hurt to have a full 12 months of driving experience under his belt as opposed to six months.

My husband took Quinn to register for the class and to the DMV for his permit. Ian and I took bets on whether Trey would let Quinn drive home from the DMV office. I said "yes." Ian said "no." Score one for Ian. My typically laid back, cavalier, up-for-anything-risky husband has suddenly assumed the role of cautious parent. "I wasn't about to let him drive home in that traffic!" he told us. I still remember the day I got my permit and my typically cautious mother handed me the keys and we took the long way home. Maybe something about this rite of passage causes a role reversal for some reason. After some coaxing, Quinn convinced his father to take him out after dinner. They returned in one piece and still talking to each other. Phew.

Day 2: I got a text as I was getting on the bus: "Can you come get me and let me drive home?" This is all coming back to haunt me. After moving to the passenger seat I suggested we go to McDonald's then go pick up Ben from school. His response: "That's a REALLY sharp turn!" Smile. He maneuvered the turn and mastered the tricky drive-thru experience like a pro. I had to smile inside as I listened to him politely place his order and pay for it. It dawned on me that he had never been the one to speak the order into the microphone at fast food drive thru and it was fun to see him use his manners without a reminder from me. (an unexpected perk) The best part of the experience by far was when we pulled up to the carpool line and saw Ben's reaction to his big brother in the driver's seat. It was priceless. The teacher's did a double take themselves. I pulled out my phone and wrote on Facebook: "sitting in the passenger seat while my son is the driver feels like an out-of-body experience." The best way to describe it is that scene in "Father of the Bride" (circa 1992) when Kimberly Williams tells Steve Martin she is getting married. He has an immediate flashback to his little girl as a 3-year-old uttering the words, "and we're getting married." I just kept staring at my son operating a two ton vehicle and envisioned those days on his Tonka 4 wheeler going 2.5 miles an hour around the yard. It's so very surreal.

That evening he asked to drive again. This time he wanted to pick up a friend and transport them ACROSS TOWN to a rival high school's basketball game IN THE DARK! What have I gotten myself into? I agreed but it suddenly became apparent to me why they (thankfully) passed the law forbidding newly licensed 16-to-18-year-old drivers to have passengers other than family members ride in their vehicle for the first year. As soon as his buddy buckled in, I could see a rapid increase in his acceleration and a little less focus on his surroundings. Yikes!

As the days went on, I see Quinn looking for reasons to drive anytime and anywhere. My husband can't believe that I actually like being the passenger as much as I do. I typically hand over the keys as we walk to the car and it's beginning to feel more natural every day. After fifteen years of shuttling this kid all over town, I am happy to be chauffeured. Plus, it gives me an opportunity to pull down the visor, open the mirror and pluck out those gray hairs....

15 wishes on your 15th birthday

2012-01-05T15:30:00.000-08:00

Dear Quinn,

Fifteen years ago today you blessed me with the title of "mother" and my life has never been the same. Nor would I want it to be. I've often heard the saying that once you become a parent, a piece of your heart lives outside of your body for the rest of your life. This is all too true. Every decision I have made from January 6, 1997 on has had you at the heart of it. No longer was I just responsible for myself but another living, breathing human being. It is an awesome responsibility but an amazing privilege as well. Anything I have or will yet accomplish in this life will matter more than what kind of sons I raise. It's a charge I take very seriously. I love when your birthday rolls around as it gives me an opportunity to reflect on the amazing gift that you have been and always will be to me.

From the beginning, every mother has hopes and dreams for her child and will go to great lengths to make sure those come to fruition. We all want our kids to have every opportunity not afforded to us in our own childhood. It's a parent thing. Unfortunately, it seems that most of those desires are rooted in material blessings. Nowadays, my peers who are parents seem to judge the success of their parenting solely on their child's athletic ability or academic success--or a combination thereof. Rarely do we hear anyone say "he's a generous, selfless kid" or "she cares about those less fortunate than her."

On that note, I wanted to do something a little different for your annual birthday blog post. In the past I have usually listed the number of attributes I love about each of my sons corresponding to their current age. This year I decided to list 15 wishes I have for you on your special day. Now some of these might catch you by surprise or have you scratching your head wondering why I would wish them or, even worse, think they would actually be considered "gifts." You should know me by now and that there is always a method to my madness. I'm always after the bigger lesson, right? How many times do you hear me say "what kind of man to you want to be?" versus "how many goals did you score?" I can picture your eyes rolling as I write this. One day you might thank me or even agree with me but for now hang in there and scroll through. There is an explanation below each wish. And they're alphabetical, of course. I am an English teacher, after all. (almost)

1. The gift of ADVERSITY. Not having things always go your way is one of the greatest teachers and the only way to make you truly appreciate what you have. In the most trying times is where you will find your strength, look inward and upward, and grow the very most.

2. The gift of CHANGE. No one likes to be caught by surprise in a world where planning and "controlling your destiny" is encouraged. It's natural to want to have stability, security and be able to count on certain things happening in life. If you can learn to embrace change and find the positive in that which is out of your control, you will find immense satisfaction and growth.

3. The gift of EDUCATION. As a high school student, going to school doesn't feel like a gift but a burden. But if you can remember that most of the world will never have the opportunity to learn how to read or write, you will see how very blessed you are to get all this for free. It's a privilege not a right. And I hope that you will be committed to being a life long learner even beyond your formal education.

4. The gift of FAMILY. Being born into a family where you are wanted, cared for and loved is a huge blessing. Even when we annoy you, I know that you love being part of our family. Beyond that, I hope and pray that your future is blessed with a wife and children yourself as you leave your own legacy in this world.

5. The gift of FRIENDSHIP. You are a super social guy and have always had a lot of friends which I know has meant a lot to you. I wish for you to not only continue to have a good, core group of friends you can count on but to be a loyal friend to others as well.

6. The gift of HARD WORK. By this I mean "back breaking" type of manual labor. There is a unique satisfaction that comes from physically exhausting yourself and seeing the results of that. You will never regret giving it your all whether it's working on a farm, a construction site or anything else that pushes your limits in this way.

7. The gift of HEALTH. This is so easy to take for granted--especially when you're young and fit. Waking up every day being able to walk, talk, see and hear is something to be deeply appreciated. It's one of those things that "you don't know what you've got until it's gone."

8. The gift of HUMILITY. This can take on so many different forms from doing a job that you are overqualified for to giving of your time and talents without expecting anything in return--or even doing it anonymously. Thinking of others as more important than yourself will always serve you well and show your true character.

9. The gift of LAUGHTER. You have a great sense of humor and a quick wit and laugh very easily. The true test, and true gift, is when you are able to laugh at yourself. To make fun of your own shortcomings or blunders will draw others to you and make them more at ease with themselves. However, laughter at another's expense is never an attractive trait.

10. The gift of LOVE. I look forward to the day when a young lady captures your heart and you fall madly in love. Not puppy love or self serving but true, unconditional, ready-to-lay-down your-life-for-her kind of love. It will be a beautiful thing.

11. The gift of PATIENCE. You have grown up in an instant gratification world. I know you think us stodgy old adults love to throw that term around for nostalgia's sake, and that we're out of touch, but there's a lot to be said for good old waiting. Self control and denying immediate pleasure are so difficult but having that discipline has been scientifically proven to increase self esteem. In other words, it can't hurt.

12. The gift of PERSERVERANCE. Sticking with something, especially when everything inside you is screaming "QUIT!" is so rewarding. Nothing beats knowing and hearing "A job well done."

13. The gift of SERVICE. This could tie in with humility because it, once again, is considering others as more important than you. And serving generally doesn't equate with getting paid. You do it because it's the right thing to do and Jesus was the greatest example of that. He did not come into this world to be served but to serve others. An attitude that we would all do well to adopt.

14. The gift of WISDOM. You might consider this redundant if you lump it in with education but I'm talking more about gaining knowledge and wisdom in life, not just head knowledge. There's said to be five stages of a man's life with the last being a "Sage". I hope you will take to heart all of the opportunities and disappointments that come your way, for this is where a wise man is found. And I pray you will pass on your knowledge to those coming behind you. The world needs more Sages.

15. (not in alphabetical order) The gift of a deep abiding faith in Jesus which is at the center of all of these. He will never leave you or forsake you and had great things in mind when He created you. Stick close to Him and no matter what happens in your life (even if you never have any of the above) you will find He is the greatest gift of all.

Happy 15th birthday, Quinn! I love who you are and who you are becoming!

~Mom

20 Things About 2011

2012-01-03T09:00:00.000-08:00

I know it's already the third day of 2012 but I've been thinking about how I wanted to editorialize 2011. I love to sum up the previous year and talk about the new one. Last year I borrowed five questions from a daily devotional I receive via email but I was looking for something a little different this time around. Tonight I stumbled onto a cute post from a fellow blogger at Walk With Me By Faith and copied it below. I just love good questions although I'd rather ask them than answer.

1.) What did you do in 2011 that you had never done before?

Taught a Language Arts lesson to a group of sixth graders.

2.) Did you keep any New Year's resolutions and will you make more this year?

The same one I always make is to get out of bed when I wake up and by the second week of January I am hitting snooze once or twice. A less shallow one is to fully embrace Hebrews 12:1 and leave the past behind, focusing my energy on the present and look forward to the future. Each year I do ask God for a verse and theme for the upcoming year and this is what he gave me in December and confirmed it a couple different times. I'm very excited about this.

3.) Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yes, my cousin Natalie gave birth to her first child, Ty. A darling little guy.

4.) Did anyone close to you die?

Yes, my great aunt Sylvia. She was my grandmother's youngest sister and one of the most thoughtful people I've ever known. I wouldn't say we were incredibly close but I loved her very much and have a lot of fond memories of time spent in her presence and at her home.

5.) What places did you visit?

Amelia Island, Florida; Atlanta, Georgia; Veranda Beach, WA; Walla Walla, WA; Wenatchee, WA; Mountain Loop Highway camping.

6.) What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

A home of our own.

7.) What date from 2011 will remain etched in your memory and why?

December 11-the day my oldest son broke his collarbone on the mountain. It was one of the worst feelings getting a call that your child has been severely injured and you aren't there.

8.) What was your biggest achievement this year and why?

Going back to school full-time and getting a 4.0 while managing a home and a family. I probably don't need to explain why that's an achievement. :)

9.) Did you suffer illness or injury?

No, but my kids had enough of both that it felt like it was me.

10.) What was the best thing you bought?

A DSLR camera.

11.) Where did most of your money go?

Feeding, clothing, housing and transporting my children.

12.) What song will always remind you of 2011?

"Perfect" by Pink.

13.) What do you wish you would have done more of?

Prayed and fully relied on God

14.) What do you wish you would have done less of?

Worrying about what everyone else thinks and wasting time on the computer.

15.) What was your favorite TV program?

Last Man Standing with Tim Allen

16.) What was the best book you read?

The End of Normal by Stephanie Madoff Mack

17.) What was your favorite film of the year?

The Help

18.) What did you do on your birthday and how old were you?

Went to church, saw the Footloose remake with my hubby and ate dinner at my favorite burger joint with my family. I turned 44.

19.) What national/world event stirred you the most?

The death of Osama Bin Laden

20.) Who was the best new person you met?

Russ-one of my son's football coaches who became his mentor and a member of our family. He's an answer to prayer and someone all of us love like a brother. He is a man of integrity, honor and loyalty. I am so thankful for the role he plays in all of our lives and our whole family adores him.

I Love the Bowl Season!

2012-01-02T22:21:00.000-08:00

A few years ago we decided we were done with our streak of bad luck and it was time to adopt the southern tradition of collard greens and black eyed peas for our New Year's Day meal. In the south, they believe that both of these tasteless foods symbolize luck and prosperity for the coming year if eating on the first day of the new year. We talked our college friends, Mike and Julie into joining us. Their previous year wasn't bad but they were game for trying something new. As it turned out, that year was worse for them and about status quo for us. Julie let us know what she thought of our superstitious ways and that they weren't up for partaking in a meal that not only didn't change their fortune but tasted horrible. We agreed so we took a hiatus from the food and spending New Year's together until 2010. We promised not to bring any food or cockamamie spells into their home so we picked up where we left off and enjoyed a day of football and leftovers.

During this day of endless college bowl games, one of the announcers got overly excited and exclaimed "Now this is why I love the bowl season!!" The way he said it gave all 4 of us the giggles and we couldn't stop repeating the phrase for the rest of the day and into the evening. (Yes, you had to be there.) And thus a new tradition was born. Three weeks later we were invited back for the Super Bowl and had a great time. Throughout the year, every once in a while we get a text "I love the Bowl Season!" or "123 days until the bowl season." It's become our private joke and an event our whole family looks forward to every year. There is nowhere else we'd rather be to begin a new year.

Yesterday, being that New Year's fell on a Sunday, and there were only NFL games on, we got a late start on the Bowl Season celebration but it still happened. I was able to sneak in a can of collard greens but Julie heaped butter and salt on everyone's portions and we didn't make any mention of its supposed potential for a prosperous 2012. Regardless of how anyone's year plays out, I'm so thankful we have these friends who are more like family to ring in a new 12 months.

Tis the Season-Part One

2012-01-02T21:50:00.000-08:00

I have been wanting to post some pictures taken with my favorite Christmas present-a Canon DSLR camera. I'm still trying to figure out how to use it, and considering my success rate with all things electronic, it might be a while. Also, once Christmas Eve hit, we were either entertaining or being entertained for a solid week so there was no time to download evidence of our seasonal memories. I think I was trying to get in as much socializing as possible to make up for being housebound with my patient and for the 11 weeks ahead of me with winter quarter.

So here I've posted some of my favorite pics of Christmas Day with my family.

Can we open any yet?

Taking advantage of his patient status while everyone hand delivers his gifts to his place on the sofa.

The cousins conferring over Ian's new shovel.

Time to switch gears to Uncle Brian's birthday.

When your mom asks you to pose for the camera, you can't be serious.

The whole gang.

"Finally, my own underwear!" ~Ben

Surgery successful

2011-12-21T14:13:00.000-08:00

The above picture is an x-ray view of the new hardware that now exists inside my son's clavicle. It kind of looks like a centipede, huh? Well, it's a little more complicated than that but I am so glad this procedure is behind us. He is resting comfortably thanks to some strong pain medication and his doting nurse.

Last Sunday when this happened, word spread like wildfire thanks to the younger brother on Facebook. As we were leaving the E.R., I got a text from a friend , "How is Quinn??" I had not talked to anyone so I knew Ian was the bearer of bad news--to the entire social networking world. As the week went on, messages of well wishes and offers of prayer poured in from local friends and neighbors. Classmates stopped by with homework assignments, teachers emailed to check on him and even his former youth group leader came over with a pizza and a movie and spent the afternoon with him. It warmed my heart to see how very loved he was. I commented to my husband, "These are the perks of living in a small community." I haven't always shared that sentiment. But isn't it funny how when it works in our favor, we are all about it?

This got me thinking about celebrities and how they have no problem making millions off the world but when a misfortune happens in their lives (typically a divorce), we all need to respect their privacy. As much as I tend to criticize this hypocrisy in them, am I really that different? I love feeling supported by our community and the perks that come with that part of the small town lifestyle. Those are the days where being a big fish in a small pond works to my advantage. But what about when something happens that I'm not so proud of or that I don't want exposed to everyone else? That's the time I wish for my publicist to issue a statement requesting that everyone mind their own business. Who's the hypocrite now?

Other than this "Ah-ha moment," Quinn's accident has been full of so many other silver linings too. From the minute his collarbone snapped in half, I have seen God's hand on this entire process. First, the friend he was with on the mountain that day happened to have parents who are in the sports medicine field. They are good friends with the local orthopedic doctor who happens to specialize in collarbones and shoulders. They put in a call to him and he fit us in the next morning. His personality and demeanor were a perfect fit with Quinn's. Second, as selfishly as I was looking forward to two weeks off before the kids were out for their Christmas break, I'm so glad this happened when it did so I could be available to take care of him. Is there really a better investment of my time? Third, he gets the entire vacation to recover instead of having to miss two weeks of school--he's already finding that making up the schoolwork is going to take forever. Finally, it was nice to watch Ian and Ben show deep concern for their big brother. They called or texted us all day while we sat in the waiting room on the day of surgery. Typically we would all be going many different directions in the week leading up to Christmas but everyone has slowed down and enjoyed being at home and being together. This has been the biggest blessing of all.

Even though we're innocent

2011-12-12T21:41:00.000-08:00

Yesterday afternoon I was finally getting some Christmas tasks crossed off my to-do list. It was just me and Millie having a lazy Sunday while the big boys were tearing it up on the mountain. Little did I know that my oldest was about to be torn up BY the mountain. A seasoned snowboarder, he and his buddy were taking in one last run when someone much slower got in front of him and caused an abrupt stop on his part. Only the stop then turned into a flip which culminated with a collision of his left shoulder and a very icy patch of snow.

Without even an x-ray or medical training of any sort, anyone could determine his collarbone was broken. Badly broken. The bone pushing up under the skin gave it away for me. As we sat in the E.R. waiting to hear his fate, I thought about the sense of loss he was feeling knowing his first winter with a season's pass had come to a screeching halt. It makes it easier to process those losses when we've made decisions that have had a direct effect on the outcome. But he did nothing wrong. He wasn't being crazy or risky--not that this never happens. He didn't cut anyone off or break any rules and yet he has to pay a hefty price in spite of it.

I didn't go down the path of "this isn't fair" but instead I started thinking about how this has been a theme in my life this Fall season: having to pay (literally and figuratively) for something that wasn't my fault. Back in October, I got out of my car in the Walgreens parking lot during a terrible windstorm. Just as I opened my driver's door, a gust of wind flung it out of my hand and perfectly into the mirror of the car parked beside mine. My door hit the passenger side mirror so perfectly that it shattered in a million pieces and blew away. The unit was fine but the mirror was gone. I left a note and went inside. As I got to the register, there was a little old man holding my note with a bewildered look on his face. I went up to him and identified myself as the author and breaker of his mirror. He was appreciative of my honesty and felt sure it wasn't going to be a costly repair. Less than two hours later I got a call informing me that he'd already been to two body shops and the total damage was $280!!! It was hard to write that check knowing I didn't willfully cause his mirror to break.

Two days later I walked out to my car in the driveway only to notice a huge dent in my front bumper that I know wasn't there before. I retraced my steps and figured it happened in the high school stadium parking lot during the last home football game. No note was left behind. Although it was covered by insurance, I still had to pay a $300 deductible toward the repair. Again, I was innocent but still had to pay the price--and write another check.

The last incident that came to mind was when Millie (our dog) had a bladder infection in September that was treated with antibiotics. It returned in November with a vengeance. This time they wanted to do a culture to determine if the strain was resistant to what was previously prescribed. Sure enough it was and, more than likely, the original infection had never left her body. Apparently we were supposed to bring her back after the first round of medicine to make sure the infection was gone. We don't recall hearing those instructions although it's highly likely they were given. The culture showed a bacteria that should respond to the second round of meds and we brought her back in for yet another culture to determine it worked. No dice. We went back again for another urinalysis and culture and they suggested that perhaps their office may have contaminated her urine sample so the charge would be half. Sure enough, the last culture found no bacteria and most likely they were at fault but a full admission wasn't given. The cost? Again, close to $300. And again, neither we nor Millie did anything wrong.

So where am I going with this? No, I'm not just venting and I'm really not angry about it because it's made me realize something greater. Jesus also did nothing wrong. He was completely innocent and yet he still had to pay the price for our decisions. He still went to the cross knowing this. What a beautiful, humbling reminder of His sacrifice.

No, I'm not happy about the time and money spent on that which I view as frivilous. No, I'm in no way excited that my son has to endure a painful surgery, a long recovery and a season's pass down the drain. But in the grand scheme of things, they are small annoyances in comparison to what I have been given. And what better time than this Christmas season to be reminded of this.

B.D.P.

2011-12-07T13:59:00.000-08:00

I remember last October when I had to write my first paper for an English Lit class. Because of my parental responsibilities, I couldn't get to it until 3 days before it was due and I was utterly stressed out. A mom of one of Ben's buddies saw the look on my face when I dropped him off at their house the night I was starting the paper. As I walked to my car, she yelled: "Remember, BDP!" Huh? Translation: Big. Deep. Breath. Over a year later, I've never forgotten that phrase and found myself muttering it under my breath (pun intended) all quarter as deadline after deadline loomed overhead. On Monday I was able to not only say it out loud but put it into practice because .......Fall quarter is officially behind me!!! Ahhhhhhhh.....I can feel the stress leaving my body moment by moment.

I've posted intermittently about my quarterly musings, most of them tongue-in-cheek about my classmates and our generational differences. Probably because that's been the most fun to discuss. And also because, after the warnings we received about posting personal info about our teaching experiences on social networking sites, I was completely paranoid that I would never find a job or, worse yet, be kicked out of the program. Even if I talked in code, I was sure "the powers that be" were perusing the Internet in search of violators. I now understand a little better who they were warning and why they were warning them. I'm not out to disparage anyone or vent over my grades or assignments. You have a little more perspective the second time around. All that said, I definitely need to do a "download" of the last 12 weeks' highlights.

Thumbs Up:

My "middle schools" class: with only 6 of us in there, everyone of whom was over 5 years post-baccaleaurate, the lively, mature discussions made showing up at 8 a.m. worth it every Tuesday and Thursday.

Thumbs Down:

It was the only class that required a meeting during finals week. I did my final presentation and thought I was officially done. On the bus ride home, my classmate informed me that there were grading guidelines posted on our website--of which I had no clue. I missed doing the part that was 50% of the grade. OOPS!! It turned positive when I emailed my professor and explained my ignorance. She extended a lot of grace and let me do an "addendum" after the fact.

THUMBS UP:

Having an actual teaching experience in a middle school setting. Planning lessons and spending time with the students was invigorating. My professor's daughter and my son were students at the school so we had an affinity with each other over our love for the building and its teachers. My supervising teacher was Quinn's 6th grade teacher which was another plus.

THUMBS DOWN:

Trying to team teach with a classmate from another endorsement area whom I had no relationship with. And learning later,from someone in another class, that my teaching partner was not fond of me and referred to me not by name but by "that older person." OUCH!

THUMBS UP:

Having a professor who was a professional storyteller with a British accent. She brought such enthusiasm and fun to the class and gave amazing feedback to our performances. My classmates were so creative and passionate about their subject areas. Every week I grew to love them more.

THUMBS DOWN:

It was only a two-credit class but we regularly met for 3-4 hours per week, in the middle of the day. And knowing I won't share classes with but one or two of them next quarter makes me sad. Also, I was a nervous wreck all four times I had to get up in front of the class. Crazy.

THUMBS UP:

atching my family adapt to their mom and wife being preoccupied by her schoolwork and completely step up and show support and encouragement. Having the boys regularly ask me how class was and Trey taking over carpool while I rushed off for my early morning classes warmed my heart. I found out yesterday that when they shared prayer requests in Ben's class last week, he asked his classmates and teacher to pray for his mom's finals. Double "thumbs up!"

THUMBS DOWN:

Having to say no to "can you have lunch with me?" or "can you pick me up from practice ?" or "did you make it to the store today?" and regularly accepting a messy house, unfinished laundry and cereal for dinner.

It's been a great adventure and one that presses me into uncomfortable places and out of that comfort zone which is always a good thing. Looking forward to a month of no deadlines, clean clothes, nutritious meals and quality time with all my guys. Until I disappear again on January 3rd.

The Pre-Thanksgiving Competition

2011-11-27T10:08:00.000-08:00

Prior to heading out of town for our Thanksgiving celebration with our dear college friends, the McQuarries, I received a text reminding me to bring a hostess gift (love that girl's sense of humor) and informing us that our family was being challenged to a little basketball competition--the reason being that they would have a greater chance of beating us than if we competed in a different sport. Always up for a challenge, we replied: Game on!

Now this family lives, eats and breathes basketball. All three kids are on teams and have been since they could practically walk. We knew we had our work cut out for us. But, much to their surprise, we were up by 7 points within the first 3 minutes. This wasn't what they expected--nor did we. They stepped up their game but we held our lead until everyone's fingers were frozen and it was time to indulge in Janelle's gourmet cooking, stuff ourselves and enjoy our family's favorite sport: Football! All was forgiven and bruised egos healed as we shared our 10th Thanksgiving together. What a joy and a blessing it is to have those lifelong friends who are more like family. But you know we can expect a re-match next year!

Bring it!

We're going down--or so we thought.

They even had the fancy shoes to intimidate us

Trey and Janelle on our way to the courts for the big tip off.

Go Ben!

Go, Quinn!

What just happened? Even we were shocked.

We want the Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving

2011-11-20T06:56:00.000-08:00

Everytime I see this image it makes me feel nostalgic. I suppose that was the purpose Mr. Rockwell had in this infamous painting that has spanned the generations. For my parents and grandparents it was a reflection of their Thanksgiving feast. But is it a reality for today's American family? Most likely that would be a big, fat "NO!"

I always feel anxious when the holiday season rolls around and all the questioning begins. We'll then go down the path of trying to figure out who is going to be where, attempting to meet everyone's expectations, knowing there will be disappointment and usually feeling like I just want it to be over. Every year I say, "this year will be different" and yet it rarely is. These were never issues we had to address before I had my own family. My dad's family wasn't in the picture so they didn't have to be considered. My mom's parents lived 6 miles away and it was just expected that everyone would come to their house for every holiday. No questions asked. To do anything different would be grounds for being disowned. Or just the plain old silent treatment.

When I lived on the east coast for 10 years, there were glimpses of the Norman Rockwell holiday but it wasn't with grandma, grandpa and all the cousins. We spent a few Thanksgiving weekends with Trey's aunt and uncle who are now deceased. They lived on a little island with 10 other families--most of whom lived a long distance from their own relatives. This group started their own traditions and became each other's family. This was my first experience, and first holiday, without my own kin. They welcomed me as if I had always been there and I couldn't wait to return. Yet, I was hesitant to relay my excitement to my own family. I felt like I was being unfaithful because I enjoyed something that wasn't traditional.

Now that we've been back on the west coast, it would make sense to fall back into the traditions and expecations of my pre-married life. Only it's not 1975. Our extended family has extended with marriages and babies; divorces and deaths have made the logistics more complicated, and some have moved to other parts of the country. Life has happened. As a result, everyone has started doing their own thing. In fact, I think this is the first year that all of my siblings will be sitting at an entirely different table on Thursday. I know this is hard for my mom and not what she envisioned the future to look like. It's hard for me too. I have cousins coming from the east coast that I won't get to see because of logistics and other reasons and that makes me sad. We've never spent a Thanksgiving with Trey's extended family since we moved out here and that is disappointing. But if I hold on to tradition, I might miss out on the very blessings right in front of me.

As my kids get older, which seems to happen at lightning speed these days, I have had to let go of my own expectations and traditions. When I discovered that winter sports at the high school level require Saturday and Christmas break practices, I cringed. When Ben was invited to be in a soccer tournament that spanned Friday through Sunday of next weekend, 2 hours away, I wanted to hide the information from him. When Trey announced that the last two days of his training meant he would be gone Saturday and Sunday next weekend, I was on the verge of tears. This wasn't the Thanksgiving weekend I hoped for and had become accustomed to. That's when I read this great article in my latest issue of Reader's Digest titled "Sharing the Sweetness" which I have paraphrased here.

"On the 25th of December, my mother expects her children to be present and accounted for, exchanging gifts and eating turkey. When she pulls on that holiday sweater everybody better get festive. Of course I would be the first Jones sibling to go rogue. As the middle, artist child, I was going to do my own thing, make some new traditions--I would spend the holiday at an artist colony!

No one took the news very well. From the way my mother carried on, you would think I was divorcing the family. Still, I held my ground and made plans for my winter adventure in New Hampshire. The MacDowell colony was everything I could have wished for. About 25 to 30 artists were in attendance, an it was, as well, artsy as I had imagined. It felt like my life had become a quirky independent film.

By Christmas Eve, I had been at the colony for more than a week. The novelty of snowy New England was wearing off, but I would never admit it. Everyone around me was having too much fun.......This was the holiday I had always dreamed of. No plastic reindeer grazing the front lawn. No football games on TV. Not a Christmas sweater anywhere in sight. Then why was I so sad?

Finally, I called home on the pay phone in the common room. My dad answered but I could barely hear him for all the good time noise in the background. He turned down the volume on the Stevie Wonder album and told me that my mother was out shopping with my brothers. Now it was my turn to sulk. They were having a fine Christmas without me.

Despite a massive blizzard, a large package showed up near my door at the artist colony on Christmas morning. 'Tayari Jones' was written in my mother's beautiful handwriting. I pounced on that parcel like I was five years old. Inside was a gorgeous red velvet cake, my favorite, swaddled in about 50 yards of bubble wrap. 'Merry Christmas' read the simple card inside. 'We love you very much.'"

What I love about this story was the way the author's mother dealt with her disappointment in such a positive way. She embraced the reality of her daughter's choices and reminded her that she was loved in such a profound way. I hope that when the day comes where one or all of my sons announce they are breaking from tradition and our holidays look different, I will also be able to give my blessing in spite of my heartbreak.

I may never have the Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving ever again but I'll always have the memories and the chance to make new ones.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

I think they're warming up to me

2011-11-11T23:45:00.001-08:00

In many of my posts about this second-time-around college experience, I realized how much I mention the age disparity between myself and my classmates. The community college population had much more diversity in that regard but I knew that the majority of university students were there post-high school not pre-menopause. I was definitely out of my comfort zone--and then some. I knew that I wouldn't have much in common with my fellow teacher candidates but I hoped I wouldn't feel like as much of a fish out of water as I did during orientation.

Being my naturally initiating, out-going, inquisitive self I tried to get to know the other young men and women in my classes. In the second week when we started doing peer reviews it became clear to me that my seatmates were reluctant to offer me any constructive criticism. No one was going to diss the "mom." ( And it probably didn't help that I wrote one girl's name on her notecard for her. Total mom move.) Every time we gave feedback after our presentations, the only person who pointed out where I needed improvement was the professor! In spite of my efforts to be treated as their peer, the reality is that number one: I am not. And number two: there is the natural respect that occurs when in the presence of someone significantly older than you. The combination of these two facts guaranteed that I wasn't going to be making friends on campus. Even though I could accept it, I still felt like the girl who didn't get invited to the party.(literally and figuratively)

By week three one sweet young thing warmed up to me enough to friend me on Facebook. The next day when I sat down at her table, she said "I think it's so cool that you don't dress like a mom. You're like 'hip mom'." At least she didn't say "stop trying to look like one of us." I started to clue in that they just didn't know what to make of me. I didn't fit into the box.

Two weeks ago one of my classes had a site visit--which happened to be at Ian's middle school. One of the guys in my class wants to be a math teacher and we were there during first period. Ian has math at this time and his teacher happens to be one of the coolest guys out there. I asked my classmate if he wanted to meet the best math teacher on the planet and he agreed. Within minutes, he and Mr. C hit it off and Mr. C. offered to write a work study grant to get this guy a part time job in his class. As we walked out into the hall, he spied my son's "All About Me" poster with several mountain biking pictures. He inquired about his interests and then looked at our family photo and asked "is this your family?" Suddenly I became a real person to him--kind of like the first time you see your teacher at the grocery store and realize she doesn't sleep at the school. He then wanted to know how old my boys were, etc. We started talking about snow boarding and the boys getting their seasons' passes last week. He mentioned having an extra board and wanted to know how tall my oldest was. A couple days later I walked into class and there was a snowboard leaning up on the wall behind his seat. He GAVE it to me for Quinn.

This week was the clincher. As I sat down next to my Facebook friend the other day she asked "Dana, do you drive a mini-van?" I hesitated to answer the question not knowing where she was going with it. I figured my "hip mom" status was about to be removed. When I told her I did, she laughed and said she and another classmate had made a bet about it and she said I was too much of a cool mom to drive one. She then turned around to the other girl and announced that she was right about me and FB friend was wrong. They both laughed and then FB friend admitted that they were talking about me again yesterday and future FB friend asked current FB friend "Does Dana have a husband?" I guess she missed the wedding ring on my left hand. FB friend informed me that she told her "Yes she does. We are friends on Facebook and she pretty much has dream family. In fact I'm pretty sure she has the white picket fence too." This was when I laughed!!

I think what had intimidated me the most about starting this program was the knowledge that I would be collaborating with men and women half my age who already knew what they wanted to do with their lives. I felt embarrassed that I am just figuring it out in mid-life. I think I felt like I had to make excuses for this. But I also realize that there is no guarantee that they won't feel like I do when they're twenty years down the road. I'm not going to be "one of them" by virtue of where I'm at in life but I can be their mentor, co-collaborator and, possibly, their co-worker. And it's okay. This is so much better the second time around.

Fall Recap

2011-11-02T19:40:00.001-07:00

I am always glad to turn the calendar to November 1st. September and October oftentimes feel like we are operating in survival mode. With sports, school and a plethora of family birthday celebrations, we spend less time together than we would like and the pace gets a little out of hand. All that said, when looking at these pictures, I wouldn't have it any other way. Even though it's 60 days of non-stop activity, it also reminds me that we have so much to be thankful for heading into the Thanksgiving season. Thank you, Lord for friendships, family, birthdays and sporting events. None of which we could experience and enjoy if you hadn't first given us LIFE itself.

Ben is ten and it's a "friend party" year.

Sorry for the horrible picture of the birthday twins.

Big brothers and two of our favorite young men who are like family-Russ and Zach

Brotherly love.

Ben ordered an ice cream cake and Russ delivered. Such a "Martha" he is.

Middle school changed track to a Fall sport this year. There's Ian tearing it up in his bright orange.

The final lap of the 1600.

Mom's birthday dinner at her favorite restaurant with her favorite guys.

Our first experience with Friday Night Lights. Awesome.

My BFF Laurie. Believe it or not she is older than me. Isn't she gorgeous?

Happy hour with my besties. I don't have single friend who is shorter than me. Love these ladies!

Ben is Ten

2011-10-28T05:34:00.000-07:00

October 28th is a very special day in our family. Since the early 1900's there has been a relative on my side with that birthday. Yes, there's a story here. My beloved and most favored great uncle Charlie was born on that day. And forty some years later so was my mom. (She's lucky they didn't name her Charlotte or Chuckie) When my parents met in 1964 she discovered her future father-in-law shared her special day. What are the chances? And don't you love stories like this?

Fast forward to February 2001. Every time I was expecting my mother was always adamant that my child had to have his or her "own" birthday. Since I have an extended family of over 50 people, the chances that I'd have a due date close to a relative's was pretty much guaranteed. And it happened every time. So when I learned that our baby Ben was to arrive around October 25th, his grandmother was most worried that he would have to share the rest of his birthdays with me. (October 23rd)

October 23rd came and went. Phew. October 25th came and went. Grrr. Labor was gently induced on October 27th and, after 10 hours, I barely progressed. Just as I was taken off the monitor, it all broke loose and they admitted me to labor and delivery--at 10 p.m. By the time the epidural took effect and contractions slowed down it was obvious we would be passing the midnight mark before a baby appeared. So guess who Ben gets to share his birthday with?? "Ma" couldn't have been prouder to relinquish the rights as the last living family member born on the 28th of October.

Since Ma came to the hospital that stormy October afternoon, she hasn't missed a single one of the birthday twin celebrations. I love that every year I get to honor and celebrate two of my most favorite people in the whole world!

Happy Birthday Ma and Ben!!! And rest in peace Uncle Charlie and Grandpa Marty. Your legacy continues.

2009

2008

2006

2003

First birthday!!

Homecoming

2011-10-09T13:35:00.001-07:00

Well high school has taken us by storm. We blinked and our oldest was a freshman. Before the year even started there was already talk about "where Homecoming pictures would be taken??" Huh? Homecoming? I was just getting used to the idea of having a high schooler and they're making plans for their first formal dance. Wow have times changed.

I don't think my son even knows that I have a blog--or cares-- but I want to be sensitive to him as I write about this. The whole process of planning the asking of his date, picking out his clothes, and ordering the corsage was fraught with misunderstanding, miscommunication and frustration. I have definitely lost my "cool mom" status. In an effort to keep our relationship on a civil level I refrained from asking questions or giving advice. You know this was killing me. I became more concerned about him being a gentleman and how he looked to his date's parents than whether he still trusted me and felt safe talking with me. Lesson learned. The poor firstborn endures all of our parenting mistakes to the fullest, huh?

He let me take him to get his hair cut and pick up the corsage yesterday afternoon. I just cracked up at his reaction when paying for it. When we got to the register and he took out his wallet he looked at me and said "That much for this?? Geez you women are expensive!" That's right son.

In an effort to not further embarrass him, I aquiesced to his request that I not accompany him and his dad to pick up his date and snap a bunch of pictures. Talk about restraint. My husband took them to the house where 15 couples were convening for dinner and pictures. As I waited (impatiently) at home, Trey returned and announced: "She is BEAUTIFUL! You should have come. There were a ton of parents there. It was a big party." Great. He said the group thing made everyone relaxed and I had permission to come back with him to transport the kids to the school for the dance. This was when they reluctantly agreed to take the pictures below. Baby steps, right?

I'm happy to report that they had a great time and he spent the better part of this morning sitting on the edge of my bed giving me a play-by-play of the evening. I wish I could share more but I'll refrain. I'm just glad I'm back in the know--until the next big event.

Before the dinner.

Leaving for the dance. Much more relaxed.

Happy Birthday Mimi!

2011-10-06T09:46:00.000-07:00

Since I've been blogging, one of my most faithful readers has been my mother-in-law. I know she loves to get updates on the family and see recent pictures since she lives 3,000 miles away. But she always takes the time to comment on the posts where I really share my heart. Her love language is definitely "words of affirmation" and she speaks them so effortlessly. I don't think she really understands how encouraging her words are because it comes so naturally to her.

This morning when I looked at the calendar and was reminded of her birthday today, I thought "now this calls for a post."

It seems that most complaints about mother's-in-law center around too much meddling. This has never been an issue here. She has a healthy respect for our marriage and our family and only gets involved if we ask her to. Even if she has had issues with me (and I'm sure there have been plenty over the years) she has never said a coarse word about me to my husband. How many of us can say that about our husband's mom? It's a trait I want to emulate when I am in her shoes.

I still remember when Trey and I were planning our move to Washington D.C. My intended living situation changed a few weeks before we were leaving. Through Trey, his mom communicated that I was welcome to live with them. We hadn't even met!!! One night I mustered up the courage to call and thank his parents for their offer. A few days later I received a letter in the mail thanking me for making the first contact. The letter ended with "we have always been fond of anyone who brings our son happiness, which is why I'm sure we will adore you." Awwww. Once again, her words slayed me.

We spent the first 10 years of our marriage within driving distance of their house. The day we packed up to head west, I know it was killing her to watch us load our belongings and her grandbabies and move as far away from them as possible while still living in the U.S. She never let on that she was thinking of anything except what was best for our family. She always makes the most of our time together. In fact this summer when one of my boys stained her carpet with food for what seemed like the 100th time, my son said "sorry, Mimi" and as she jumped up to get the rug cleaner, I heard her say, "I'm just glad y'all are here!" Well said.

My all-time favorite memory was my 40th birthday. She decided she wanted to hand-deliver my present and join in on the 50's party. I foiled her surprise when I got up in the middle of the night and heard some noise in the basement. I went down there to discover her in the guest room eating a bowl of cereal. I was blown away. She had never come out her by herself, and I know she caught flack for it, but the fact that she was willing to do that for me was birthday present enough. But she didn't stop there. Since 2000, I have been making her a yearly scrapbook for Christmas of our family's past 12 months. It's my favorite thing to do every December and it's the only gift she wants year after year. (or so I think) She decided it was my turn to have someone make a book for me. We cozied up on the sofa the next morning and she handed me the most precious gift I've ever received: a book with 40 pages--each one dedicated to one of the 40 reasons why she loves me. Now that alone is a tall order for anyone. Without a doubt, it is one of my most prized possessions.

If they say a man marries a woman a lot like his mother, then based on my experience, I take that as a huge compliment.

Happy Birthday, Mimi!!! May the time and effort you invest in others be returned to you today! Thanks for emulating who I want to be when I finally get some girls in this family.

Celebrating the October birthdays.

Just before I became the other woman in her son's life.

I was born to do this

2011-09-30T17:37:00.000-07:00

"I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up." How many times have we all heard this--and said it--during our adult lives?? I don't think I will be saying that again.

For the first few years post-college I dabbled in several different industries but never lasted at a job more than a year or so. I had family members who believed in staying with the same company for 20+ years who were constantly perplexed (and annoyed) by my inability to find something and stick to it. One family member (who shall remain nameless) once said to me "Volunteer. Don't volunteer. Sales. Marketing. PR. When are you going to make up your mind??" I was always envious of those who went the way of a solid degree. Accounting, Law, and Medicine were disciplines where the path was obvious--and limited. Communications? Too broad for this broad to make a permanent residence in a cubicle somewhere.

When I became a mother fourteen years ago and traded in my commute, fancy clothes and lunches out for the privilege of being able to spend my days with my newborn, I never doubted my decision for one moment. I knew since I was a little girl and toted my hairless, fingerless doll around that I was meant to bring life into this world. I remember that utter feeling of contentment that I had finally found my calling--it just happened to be at home and not in the corporate world--until now.

I have loved being a mom and still do but that season is taking on a different path. At 14, 13 and 10 I am needed in different ways which brought me to this place. This past week in my Intro to Middle Schools class, we played a getting to know you game where we had to go around the room and share why we wanted to be middle school teachers. I told my classmates how ever since I was a middle schooler 30 years ago that the desire has never left me. When my oldest entered sixth grade, and I walked through the halls of his school, I knew this was where I needed to be. I told them how I "get" these kids and connect with them and they connect with me. My professor seemed a little blown away by my response and said "everyone doesn't have to be as enthusiastic as Dana." I took that as a compliment.

In my Dynamics of Teaching class on Wednesday we had to do our baseline presentation in front of our class. We had three minutes to introduce ourselves and our subject matter to our "students." Our professor gave immediate feedback and asked three to four of our classmates to do the same. It was all a blur because of my frayed nerves but I do remember hearing "you really understand your students' sense of humor and play to that very well."

Yesterday we went to the middle school where we'll be volunteering in the classroom once a week for our orientation. It happens to be where my son is in 7th grade. Lucky for him I will be with the 6th grade team of teachers. Lucky for me I am with the lovely women who taught my older son during his first year of middle school. I can't wait! As I was speaking with them after everyone left, we heard a knock on the window only to see my son with his silly face plastered against the pane. Oh how I love middle schoolers--especially my own.

Maybe I have finally grown up.

Back To School, Round 2: Mom's Turn

2011-09-22T05:23:00.000-07:00

After a glorious three and a half month break, it is time for me to hit the books once again. Although this time around I am a "big girl" and stepping onto a university campus. Yesterday was a full day orientation replete with all the do's and don'ts of being a public school teacher. Unfortunately it was full of more "don'ts" than "do's". I learned that showing cleavage, buttcrack or midriff is unprofessional but bring on the tattoos and piercings. No limitations exist on either of these artistic expressions. I also learned that 34% of the teachers in my state (or roughly 20, 000 educators) will reach retirement age in the next 3 years. So all you naysayers will have to stop warning me that "there will be no jobs." However, all along I have felt this journey has been about so much more than simply landing a contract. I can't wait to watch it unfold.

I sat in a room full of future educators and walked the campus where 90% of the population was easily half my age--or more. Actually it was definitely closer to "more". I wrote on my Facebook that I was hoping to not be mistaken for a parent. At the lunch break, as I was standing in line to pick up my student ID card, the young lady in charge asked me if I would be living the dorms! Yes, the dorms. I guess it would be cheaper--especially if I could bring my family along, but seriously? I found it a little (actually a lot) flattering. Kind of like when you're 19 and a construction crew whistled at you and you got mad and now if it happens, you scream "Really?? Thank you so much!!" I'm sure this sweet co-ed wanted to retract her question as soon as it crossed her lips but I happily let it sink in to my wrinkled skin and tired body and let myself be puffed up while I waited my turn.

Since I was denied the opportunity to feast on Chick-fil-A, as they no longer exist on our campus, I grabbed a cold, tasteless sandwich and returned to my advising session. As we sat at our respective tables one of the professors asked if anyone in the room had any desire to work with 11-to-14-olds as this would mean a change in your advisor assignment. I quickly shot my hand up only to discover that I was completely alone in my enthusiastic response. Not a single one of my fellow classmates joined in. They have no idea what they're missing. Or maybe they do and I'm about to find out why. This lovely lady, who also loves middle schoolers, came over to chat with me and suggest I add another course to my schedule this quarter as it's only taught two of the three terms--at 8:00 A.M.!! I think this night owl will sleep on this decision. Literally.

Today I arrived at the Park and Ride with my new bookbag (thanks, Mom!) and caught the bus to campus. I think the bus driver was the only rider older than Moi. I really need to get over this, huh? I only had one class today and I quickly decided that this was a course I wanted to be in every single day. Our professor is one of the loveliest, charming women I've ever encountered. She hails from England and if listening to her accent wasn't wonderful enough, her enthusiasm and personality only put her over the top in likeability. Just when I start to doubt or worry about this path or what each quarter will hold I get a treat like this to confirm yet again that I am exactly where I need to be.

Now, about that sunrise class.......

Ian's belated birthday

2011-09-21T09:10:00.000-07:00

I wrote a post on my middle son's 13th birthday and it disappeared. I even did it in advance and scheduled the posting. That's what I get for not following up. Story of my life. If I was a bit more of a micro manager maybe events would happen a little more seamlessly.

At the end of the week my husband said, "Can we move Ian's birthday to a different month?" Back when we were starting a family no one warned us to not have a baby near the beginning of the school year--not that we would have listened. Every year I look back with regret and worry that he was overlooked and I didn't put as much effort into his day as I do for his brothers. This year both the middle school and elementary school had their parent night on his birthday along with a freshman football game 30 miles away. As a result we had to celebrate the night before which made the actual day kind of anti-climactic.

True to middle child, go-with-the-flow Ian fashion, he didn't complain one bit. It probably helped that he raked in enough cash to cover our weekly grocery bill and got his very first cell phone--which happens to be a huge upgrade to the one his brother received on his 13th. It's the little things that count, right?

Maybe it is a blessing that my earlier post evaporated into cyberspace as this kiddo does not like to be gushed over. Just about everything I do or say these days gets an eye roll or a "that's embarrassing, Mom!" So I'll just say, "Happy Birthday, Ian!!" You are kind, bright, funny and a true joy to be with. I've loved being your mom for the last 13 years and I look forward to watching you continue to thrive in this life. You rock!

And another school year begins

2011-09-07T09:51:00.000-07:00

It's my favorite day of the year: the first day of school! It was touch and go there for a couple days as our teachers decided to strike last Thursday. Fortunately they settled on a contract by Friday night and classes were only delayed one day. Since Ben is at a private school he started (much to his dismay) yesterday while his brothers got to prolong summer another 24 hours. I did make them go get haircuts so they couldn't have fun the ENTIRE day.

To show you what a stellar mother I am, I woke Ben up, got busy doing my thing and then realized it was 20 minutes until we had to leave. We rolled into the parking lot with a minute to spare only to find the entire overflow lot filled with cars. Oh yeah, the back to school assembly. Grrrr. With my "bedhead" and "morning breath" I opted to skip the gathering and let Dad walk him to the classroom. Nice. Fortunately, despite his mother's lack of planning, Ben had a great day. When he got home and I asked about his first day his response was: "AWESOME!! Ms. M is awesome!!"

My fun fourth grader

Ian was beside himself with excitement as he got to return to his middle school that burned down two years ago. No alarm was necessary this morning. The district finished the re-build a year ahead of schedule and it is so absolutely amazing. Makes me want to go back to middle school myself. I promised to be back from handing out schedules at the high school in time to take him and get his planner and ASB card. Well, we had a little mishap with cars and keys that I will share below. Anyway, we got there before the buses and he actually let me walk beside him to the building. I jokingly asked if he wanted to hold hands and he said: "it's bad enough that we're walking in together." Spoken like a true 13-year-old (in 8 days.)

My sweet seventh grader.

Ahhh....high school. It feels odd to be sending your child somewhere that you still remember like it was yesterday. Nonetheless, Quinn is embarking on his freshman year. I volunteered to help hand out schedules in the commons from 7-8. School began at 7:45 but Quinn opted to join me instead of having to walk an entire eighth of a mile. Since I had a coffee in each hand (one for me and one for my BFF) my son grabbed my keys and put them in his backpack. I knew this wasn't a wise choice but I immediately got distracted as my BFF walked up behind me to grab her coffee. We settled in to our table with another mom to pass out the "E-H" students. My BFF was going on about how much fun this is and she does it every year because she's nosey. The other mom didn't miss a beat and promptly replied, "I do it to pray over them." Ummmm, us too. I think we were put in our place. At 7:40 my panicked freshman came over and told me that someone stole his schedule out of his hand and he had no idea where his first class was. What a terrible feeling. The vice principal stepped in and sent him to the counseling office to pick up another copy. As I stood up to leave I realized where my car keys were--and where I probably shouldn't go if I still wanted a relationship with my son. Could you imagine me walking in to his first period class and announcing: "I'm Quinn's mom and he has my car keys!"?? I refrained and got a ride home from my BFF only to find my seventh grader at the door reminding me that we were supposed to be leaving....NOW!

And to think I have to get myself to school in two short weeks from today. I should have a little more practice by then.

Here's to a great school year for all our kiddos. May they all come home today with the enthusiasm of Ben!

My fabulous freshman

When traditions cease

2011-09-06T07:51:00.000-07:00

It's something I look forward to every year: the "boy free" Labor Day weekend. Trey and the boys ship off on a three day adventure and I get the house to myself. I clean from top to bottom, don't cook a thing, spruce up the yard and usually burn out by Sunday morning. It is glorious. This year it was not meant to be.

By Wednesday I knew it wasn't looking good for me when no plans had been made. A few were thrown around but I could tell no one was really into it--namely my husband. Salmon fishing on the Fraser River was the first consideration but after purchasing one fishing license, we realized that we were lacking in gear, bait, etc. Plan B: Trey would go up on Friday afternoon and fish since the license would expire in 5 days then come back on Saturday and get the kids to go camping an hour away. He promised to farm everyone out for Friday night sleepovers so I could have the evening to myself. Ian was gone by noon and Ben left at 3. In the meantime, Quinn got invited to Whistler on Saturday morning but wasn't able to sleep over for various reasons. Just as I was about to doze off, Quinn announced that he now could go over to his friend's--at 10:20 p.m.!

Saturday morning I jumped out of bed, got some coffee and made my plan of attack. Target, Costco gas, Costco, Kohls, Walgreens, Haggen--in that order. As I backed in the driveway to unload my goods, I get a text "the boys want to come back over to your house, is that okay?" By noon my house was full of boys again as we waited for Trey to appear. Five hours later he showed up, not in the mood to pack up for camping, but with 26 pounds of beautiful salmon in his possession so all was forgiven. We feasted on his catch with the promise that "I'll pack up the tent trailer and leave tomorrow morning."

We spent Sunday morning packing up and I stood in the driveway and waved goodbye with a huge smile on my face. Off they went to do boy things and I grabbed Millie and went out to the lake for some reading on the beach. Three hours later as I arrived at the 3-way stop near our neighborhood there in front of me was my brood of boys with the tent trailer still attached to the vehicle. Uh-oh. Trey yells out the window, "Zach fell and hit his head on a rock and needs stitches." How could I be so selfish when a sweet little 9 year old is in pain? I quickly got over my disappointment when I saw this blonde boy crying in the backseat. Quinn came home a couple hours later from his mountain biking excursion--in one piece-- and our family was reunited. I just had to laugh.

Monday morning Trey and I got up early and went on a beautiful hike. (Our summer arrived along with September and we've been in the mid-80s all week) When we returned he loaded up just his truck with pellet guns, mountain bikes, a cooler and all three boys and off they went. I didn't even ask when they were coming back. I didn't need to. 10 minutes later I hear banging in the garage and open the door to find Trey hammering away at Quinn's bike seat. ??? Apparently his seat fell off while driving down the road and when they realized and turned the car around to retrieve it some obnoxious teenagers decided it would be funny to run over it. Hilarious. Not. I walked over to the car to see three glum faces and some tears. Everyone was ready to call it quits. Dad perservered, fixed the seat, jammed it back on the bike and they drove away. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't holding my breath for at least the next two hours. To channel my nervous energy I got busy scrubbing floors, organizing closets and washing windows. Millie and I returned to the lake to cool off and when we walked back into the neighborhood there was my contented family.

So the 3 day weekend morphed into 7 hours but at this point I was happy to take what I could get. Isn't it hard when traditions change? I think this was just God's way of showing me that I need to be open to what the future holds and eventually some things I've counted on for years are going to look different as my children grow and change and ultimately leave home. Case in point: I can't even count on school starting the day after Labor Day as it has for the last 9 years since the teachers went on strike last week. (A contract was reached and they are starting tomorrow. Phew!)

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away......"

~Ecclesiastes 3: 1-6 NIV

The many uses of toilet paper

2011-09-01T10:27:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you but when I was a middle schooler/high schooler, waking up to a front yard decorated in Charmin was a tally on the popularity chart. The best memory by far was when three guy friends of mine and my sister's moved the entire contents of our backyard patio to the front yard, toilet papered every tree and as a final touch turned on the sprinkler for good measure. When our parents woke us up to share their findings we immediately got on the horn to spread the good news and invite our friends to observe the handiwork: "Come see what Morgan, Alan and Matt did???!!" I still remember my mom asking "What are you girls doing at school? Why don't people like you?" We just couldn't seem to convince her that this was a sign of being liked. She wasn't buying it. And it didn't matter if it was true, she wanted her yard cleaned up. Pronto!

Not realizing that nowadays people are so oversensitive, and take themselves way too seriously, I thought it would be a great idea to initiate my kids into this lost art. For my oldest's 13th birthday, I took him and a few friends out for a midnight adventure armed with a couple cases of TP. The boys were focused on hitting houses that were in high traffic areas. If they were going to take the risk, they wanted many to witness their work. At the first house they were caught by the older brother who was up getting some water and whose first reaction was to throw the water on the first boy he encountered. Oops. We pulled it off at the other two houses and went home. Unbeknownst to me, two of the bright teenagers decided it would be a good idea to relieve themselves on the decorated yard. We came back to the house and they bragged to the little brothers about their devious behavior and one of the little brothers went to school and shared their secret. (Apparently there was no pinky promise) Fast forward to Monday night and I receive a phone call from the owner of said house. Not pretty. I understood her frustration but I also think warning me that I am raising juvenile delinquents (when the boys who committed the infraction were not being raised by me) was a little much. Whatever. I'll refrain from commenting further.

After it all blew over we realized that we had perhaps started something. In fact one of the other moms whose house was "decorated" just smiled at me and simply said, "Paybacks." Well, the paybacks have been coming every few months now and it's driving the boys crazy that they haven't figured out who the guilty party is. Last Thursday night around 11:30, our dog (who never barks) started going nuts in the living room. I walked in there and looked outside to find a sea of white. This was definitely the best artwork yet. And it definitely wasn't boys performing a "payback" as there were just too many "feminine touches". And they used the good stuff too. I was considering recycling it but my kids shamed me into throwing it in the yard waste can. See the evidence below. Nice job, ladies.

My friend Toni said: "it almost looks pretty."

Awwww

This was outside the front door to greet me. Very cute.

Reunion Vacation: The Final Week

2011-08-24T20:10:00.001-07:00

As I sit here looking at the photos below, I have decided it's time to upgrade to a new camera. Sorry the images are so poor. And since we're poor, I doubt I'll get that camera.......anyway, back to the vacation.....

On Monday morning of our final week, we bid goodbye to Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jim and heading north to Hotlanta. And boy was it hot alright. Atlanta is a different kind of hot than Florida. There is no ocean breeze. In fact, nothing even resembling a breeze exists in this region. But since it's home to Chick-Fil-A we won't hold a silly thing like a sweltering outdoors against them. Plus, it's also where my cousin and her family call home. As much as I loved seeing all of my hubby's family, I have to admit that I was looking forward to being with "my people." And meeting the newest member of their family, Mr. Ty.

We spent all day stopping at Trey's customers and got an hour south of Atlanta just before rush hour. Fortunately this was where our friends, Mike & Karen currently live. We wanted to try and see them if time allowed but were a little unsure since 12 years had lapsed since our last meeting. You just never know. I'm happy to report it was a wonderful reunion. The four of us became friends back in Charlotte in 1995 B.K. (before kids) Shortly after our firstborns arrived in 1997, they left for Iowa City and never looked back. We kept in touch through Christmas cards and now thanks to Facebook we communicate more frequently. Their three boys are pretty much in sync with ours in terms of age, personality and athletic interests. You'd think the six of them were separated at birth. We reminisced about our younger days and concurred that we were all clueless back then and at our current maturity level, we still don't know much more--we're just more willing to admit it. It was a gargantuan feat to tear our kids away but by 8:30 we were on the road again to Todd and Natalie's.

Tuesday we enjoyed getting to know sweet little Ty and his charming personality. We all loved being around a baby and everyone took their turn at feeding him his rice cereal and making him smile--which wasn't hard to do. Wednesday we got out of their hair and spent the day at Six Flags over Georgia. Their neighbor, Savannah, whom Ian met last summer during his stay, joined us and showed us the ropes like a true frequent visitor. (pictures are on Trey's phone and he hasn't downloaded them yet). After a full day of "high thrill rides" as they call them, we headed north to have dinner with a childhood friend of Trey's. The kids weren't thrilled about another 90 minutes in the car until we arrived to find a fellow middle school guy and a beautiful "Georgia Peach" the same age as Quinn. Let me just say that the 3,000 miles between them is probably a very good thing.

On Thursday morning, Natalie's younger sister Andrea came over to spend the day with us. She recently relocated to the Atlanta area after a recent mission trip to Cambodia. (Again, pictures are on Trey's phone since my lame camera's batteries died for the 10th time) We left in the late afternoon and made a pit stop back at the Koenig's. We enjoyed dinner and more reminiscing and got talked into staying overnight.

Friday we hit the road back to Amelia with some detours visiting Trey's customers and two Chick-fil-A stops. We arrived safe and sound after braving two hours of horrendous thunderstorms and turned in for the night.

On Saturday the boys hit the beach and Mimi and I hit the movie theater to see "The Help." We had both read the book and were crazy about it so it only seemed fitting to share a day watching it on the big screen. If you haven't seen it yet, plan to. One of the best screenplays adapted from a book I have ever seen. Uncle Mike and Jenn joined us for one last dinner together which was perfect.

Our last day found us parked at the beach and playing to our heart's content. By 3:00 a thunderstorm made its way overhead and we were forced to leave. We ended the day grilling burgers and playing a family game of Farkle.

We flew out the next day with very large pieces of our hearts left behind. They say you know it's a good vacation when you don't want to leave. Judging by the fact that no one said "I can't wait to go home" I'd say it was pretty fabulous.

We love our Iannuzzi family.

Ian showing Trey the ropes of badminton.

Sweet baby Ty.

Mike & Karen who look the same as when we last saw them.

Ian tries his hand at the morning feeding and Ty is amused.

The lovely Koenig family--including Miss Shelby

Awwww..

Catch a wave and you're sitting on top of the world.

Waiting for a wave.

One big, happy beach-loving family.

Reunion Vacation: Week Two

2011-08-22T21:29:00.000-07:00

Even though we've been home for a week, I am just now getting a post and some photos here. As you read, you will understand the reasons why.
Week two began with hubby and I having a little anniversary getaway which I referenced in the 19 and counting post. The day after our celebration dinner in Orlando, we continued east to Lakeland and visited our friends John & Ashlee. They live in a quaint historic district on the outskirts of Central Florida University's campus. It's the kind of neighborhood one would expect to see at the movies. Big front porches and sidewalks abound along with friendly neighbors who are friendly with one another. In fact, they included us in their monthly neighborhood block party and we had the pleasure of meeting many of these nice folks. It was also "National Night Out" so the police chief, the fire department and several city council members made an appearance. I didn't have my camera with me because I didn't want to intrude on their good time snapping pictures but they probably would have just thought I was the local paper's photographer--and would have offered me a hotdog just the same.

The following morning Ashlee took me on a tour of downtown and the surrounding area. I could see why she loved calling this place home. We did a little bit of shopping and then met up with Trey to head back to Amelia. When we returned, Quinn & Mimi had just come home from playing a round of golf and Ian, Ben and Papa Jim spent the evening riding horses on the beach. Again, no pictures of either since I wasn't present but it sounded super cool.

Thursday: Trey's cousin Dane took the day off work and came up with his kids to play with us. Amelia Jane and Wynn were so much fun to have around. The boys loved playing with the little guy and I enjoyed some girl time. So did A.J. When we got back to the house she said, "let's have dinner outside, just you and me. There are too many boys in there."

Friday: Trey's cousin Lisa flew in from northern Virginia in the afternoon and we all went downtown to "Sounds on Center"--an outdoor concert. Unfortunately the breeze that was there when we arrived, decided to go elsewhere once we plopped down in our chairs. The concert going was short-lived and we all ended up at The Doo Wop Diner for burgers and fries. Just as we finished, Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jim arrived--also from the greater D.C. area--to join us for dessert.

Saturday: The Jacksonville cousins made the trek back up and we all played at the beach and pool for most of the day. The evening found us at the quieter neighborhood pool for a family picnic and more swimming and sun.
Sunday: One last hurrah before cousin Lisa left town and all 18 of us enjoyed brunch together. Some of us went to the beach and others stayed behind for some downtime.

Amelia Jane and Trey

Baby Wynn loves his watermelon

A 14 year old feeding a one year old. Yes, really.

Quinn tearing up the surf.

Brotherly love.

Screams of joy--or terror. Not really sure.

Cousins trying desperately to keep the water out. Hard to do when you are at sea level.

Uncle Jim and Baby Wynn

My two favorite Nancy's.

Aunt Nancy and Trey

Sun avoiders

The Iannuzzi/Carpenter family

Cousins and watermelon--what is my 12 year old posing for???

Trying to get a group shot while a kind gentleman waits patiently for us. My camera battery died right after this so I have no final shot.

Reunion Vacation: Week One

2011-08-07T11:58:00.001-07:00

In 1995, at Trey's brother's wedding reception, all us third generation cousins decided it would be a great idea to have a family reunion combining both the Sturgeon and Carpenter sides. Lo and behold 4 months later we made it happen. There was always talk of trying to duplicate the success of pulling off getting 20+ people together from around the country but as we all grew up and had families of our own, it just didn't happen.

When we decided to spend 3 weeks here, Papa Jim got on the horn and let the east coast family members know and put a bug in their ears about trekking down (or up) this way. The result was this first family reunion. Unfortunately we weren't able to get everyone here but Trey's cousin Billy and his fiancee Jess flew up from Fort Lauderdale for 12 hours, Aunt Barby saw the activity on Facebook and, not willing to miss out on any of the fun, booked herself a flight from San Diego. The other two Sturgeon cousins live an hour away and drove up for an 8:00 dinner on a weeknight--with small children. It was like no time had passed. I think that when you don't live in close proximity to one another and you don't know when you'll see each other again, you really make the most of these moments.

All the Sturgeon boys sans Sharon (we missed her terribly)
Trey and Uncle Mike's sweetie, Jenn

Uncle Mike, Dane and Quinn

Jess, Billy and Aunt Barby

All the cousins and their "significant others"

19 and Counting....

2011-08-02T19:46:00.001-07:00

Isn't this the new title of the Duggar's TLC show now that they've added another babe to their ever growing brood? I thought it sounded familiar. Regardless, I am stealing it for my title in honor of our 19th wedding anniversary.

Back in the spring when we booked our tickets to Florida and knew we would be spending August 1st in the "Sunshine State" I had only one request: we must have our anniversary dinner at Stonewood Grill. Our friends turned us on to this restaurant 8 years ago and I've hoped to return ever since. We left the kids behind (thanks to Grandma and Grandpa) and I joined Trey for some sales calls between Jacksonville and Orlando. Fortunately there were 5 Stonewood Grill's between here and there. It was absolutely divine. Excellent service (our waiter was stunned that we'd stayed married as long as we have. We told him we were too. ) :) Don't tell our kids that we stayed practically across the street from Universal Studios. Out of respect for them we refrained from spending the evening riding their favorite coasters. (Honestly, we were too stuffed and tired to entertain the idea but don't tell them that either.)

Before we stuffed ourselves with rosemary lamb chops, blue cheese ribeye and decadent chocolate cake with Hagen Dazs ice cream.

I think this is the first year we didn't exchange formal cards and, oddly enough, these were my favorite. We wrote them to each other while waiting for our food to arrive.

It's been almost two decades of highs, lows, joys, sorrows, wins and losses but I honestly wouldn't trade a minute of it for the what we have as a result. Happy Anniversary, Baby!!!

2011-07-21T22:53:00.000-07:00

I'm really not "that kind of mom." I swear to you, I am not. You know the ones I'm talking about: their child's successes and/or failures define who she is--or isn't. Of course I am happy when my boys experience successful moments and I'm sad when they struggle with any of life's challenges. But I also have to remind myself that all I can do is give them the right tools, pray daily and release the rest to God.I can't let their actions, whether I like them or not, validate or invalidate me as a parent. Unfortunately our current culture preaches otherwise. All that being said, I had to put this disclaimer lest you think I was one of those crazies who stalks her kid all the way to football camp 200 miles from home. Because, based on the following pictures, this is exactly what I did.

While 75% of our country is sweltering in a massive heatwave, someone forgot to remind our thermometers that the calendar says mid-July. I think I read recently that 82% of this month has been covered in clouds--and temperatures 10-15 degrees BELOW NORMAL. When you wait 10 months for summer it's hard to not be bitter at this point. So instead of caving in to the bitterness,(don't be bitter, be better) I decided that I couldn't change the weather conditions so I packed up my younger two and we headed east until we found sunshine and heat. It just so happened that this place also happened to be where my oldest was attending his first high school football camp. (In my defense, the coach did say "we'd love to have parents come over and watch" and my son did ask me twice if we were planning to come over) I had no idea what to expect but within minutes of arriving I knew it was well worth the trip.

We pulled into the high school parking lot only to find about 10 moms and dad from our school making a lunch feast fit for a king -or 70 teenage boys. The players had made their temporary home on the gym floor. (It made our basement look like a museum) Every coach came and introduced himself to me and the little brothers and made us feel right at home. In just two days I saw a transformation in my son that could have only occurred from watching teamwork and leadership be preached and modeled 12 hours a day. These guys totally have it going on. Needless to say, I was beyond impressed. Looking forward to those Friday Night Lights!

Home Sweet Gym

One big fraternity house

Quinn and his roomies

Looks at Ian and Ben are making themselves at home, as usual.

Ben loved being "Water Boy."

There's my football player.

Enough already, Mom.

Taking it all in while Ian strategizes for his future football career.

Wide receiver drills

Practicing field goals

It's not really summer without a romp through the sprinkler.

Go Sounders!

2011-07-18T17:05:00.000-07:00

We are soccer fans around here. Well at least 4 of us are. I'll give you a hint: the one that isn't much of a fan is not a boy. Not only are they soccer players, soccer watchers and soccer lovers they are true blue (and green) Seattle Sounders fans. I'm pretty sure that the last time one of them had a cut, it bled blue and green. So when Trey's company offered tickets for all employees and their families to a suite at the most recent home game, we cleared our calendars.

More often than not, I say "if you can't beat 'em, join em." And so I did.

I may not have painted my face but I was willing to put some blue polish on those toesies.

Happy with the results of the game or just happy to be together? Or both?

Ben enjoyed being photographer

These fans are crazy excited all the time. This is the section we always want to be in but we were happy to settle for a private suite.

Go Sounders!!!!!!

Another great book on boys

2011-07-12T10:58:00.000-07:00

I'm always on the lookout for more sage advice on bringing up boys. I stumbled upon this in the public library last week and have devoured it. There's a lot of the "same old stuff" but some new tidbits that I have definitely filed away.

My favorite part of the whole book was this prayer that was quoted from the book The Wonder of Boys by Michael Gurian. (another fantastic book)

"Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishes will not take the place of deeds; a son who will know Thee--and that to know himself is the foundation of knowledge.

Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenge. Here let him learn to stand up in the storm; here let him learn compassion for those who fail.

Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goals will be high; a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, and the weakness of true strength.

Then, I will dare to whisper, 'I have not lived in vain.'"

~GENERAL DOUGLAS MACARTHUR

This is my prayer for my three sons. How grateful I am that I am not in this alone!

Happy Campers

2011-07-10T21:32:00.001-07:00

In the Northeast, people go "to the shore" for summer vacation. In the Southeast, they go "to the beach". In the Midwest, they go "to the lake". In the Pacific Northwest, we camp. In fact, people here are so into it that the state parks are usually booked a year in advance. Yes, a year. Being that we're not planners (or at least one of us isn't) and the weather is so incredibly umpredictable here , we usually wait until the conditions are right and then go for it. We've ended up in some pretty cool places off the beaten path and this time was no exception.

Our good friend, and the person who moved us out here 10 years ago, Jim is always up for last minute camping trips and no one else in his family shares his penchant for spontaneity. He knows he can count on our family to fill that need. Last Friday (7/1) he and Trey spent the entire day driving the Mountain Loop Highway in search of the perfect wilderness campsite. The definition of "wilderness" runs the gamut from "rustic" to "a rotted out picnic table and a fire pit." They found a site not only with a table and fire pit but right on the river. They claimed it with a tent and came home to share their find with the rest of us. Quinn & Ben had previous plans for Saturday so Ian went with them and we joined them that evening. We pulled up and everything was ready for our arrival. Just had to put our bedding in the tent. It was sure to be a perfect evening...........

Chilling out

Ben claimed the "Mac Daddy" chair

Just a few steps down to our paradise.

The view from our site.

Jim can come with us anytime. Look at how thoughtful he is.

We just finished dinner around 8:00when a visitor showed up at our site named Sheriff John Brown. (not really his name but that's what we called him) Apparently we were at a "reservation only" site. We begged him to have mercy on us if we promised to leave the next morning. No way was this guy budging. And he did have his ticket pad in hand so we cooperated. In his defense he did have an alternative site reserved for us five miles down the road in the middle of a grassy field. It wasn't waterfront property but it would do.

We packed up, moved and set up camp in the next 90 minutes just before dark. Everyone went to bed only to be awakened by rain drops at 4 a.m.! (Just for the record, this has happened every single time I've camped in Western Washington) There is just nothing romantic about camping in a downpour. The rain continued--despite the forecast of a "passing shower"--until noon. I threatened to leave but once the sun came out, it was beautiful. We took a hike to the ice caves and had a wonderful steak dinner, played Farkle and roasted marshmallows. It ended on a high note.

We came home on the 4th just in time to get ready for our next adventure. Our good friends Mark & Jackie offered us their pop-up tent trailer while they were out of town. We picked it up Tuesday morning and by 3:00 that afternoon we were settled in. My mom came up to join us, the kids each brought a friend and we went 30 miles away to a beautiful campground on the beach. The weather was sunny and low 80's. Definitely an improvement from our previous excursion.

I'm not sure if I'll be able to tent camp again after this.

Ma with her favorite girl, Millie.

Skipping rocks just before a beautiful sunset.
Enjoying a beach campfire.
Sun-kissed boys.

Summer Rules

2011-06-28T09:47:00.000-07:00

This title could be looked at one of two ways. As a verb: Summer is the best. Or as a noun: These are the rules thou shall abide by if thou wants to survive this season. Take your best guess as to how I mean it.

You're right. That would be a noun. You know me so well.

I do love summer. It is my absolute favorite season. But as my kids have become older, it has been more challenging to keep our house in working order and for mom to keep her sanity. For the most part, we tend to live without a lot of rules--especially in June, July and August. After 9 months of schedules everyone is in need of a respite from the structure. I get that. But after working and going to school last summer, I saw how that backfires and I end up chasing my tail. I'm fully exhausted and resentful by Labor Day weekend. I did not want a repeat. Just because I am not taking classes or working a job for the next 3 months, doesn't mean this year could be a free-for-all. Something had to change.

The night before our first full week of summer vacation, we sat down as family and established some "rules." Now, of course, these were not met with enthusiasm but I have to say that after 10 days, things are going quite well and everyone seems pretty content. There have been some requests to bend but overall I think this was a great idea. One of my girlfriend's (who has 4 children and the same frustrations) asked me to fax her my list. I told her I'd post it here and on Facebook. We'll see how the next 9 weeks go!

SUMMER 2011 RULES

No XBox before 5:00 p.m. unless it's raining (disclaimer need in the Northwest)

All chores must be completed prior to leaving the house.

A maximum of three activities per week, per child, that require being driven somewhere.

Plans must be cleared with Mom & Dad the night before. (Last minute sleepovers will not be considered)

If it's less than 2 miles away, you can bike, walk, scooter or skateboard there.

Sunday is for family and God.

HAVE FUN and WEAR SUNSCREEN.

Eighth Grade Graduation

2011-06-18T20:16:00.000-07:00

When I logged on tonight I saw that my last post was almost 3 weeks ago. That tells you how utterly crazy this last month has been. As I reflect on all that happened I don't know how we made it through--other than a lot of coffee and not a lot of sleep. I am so ready for summer.

The biggest event of all this past week was Quinn's 8th grade graduation. I officially have a high schooler now. Because of his middle school fire 18 months ago, Quinn's class combined with another 8th grade class for a total of 365 students. This was not an easy feat for the administration, the teachers, the students or the families. I had heard a lot of negative from my son about the excessive rules, the culture on the other side of town and the 45 minute bus ride every day. The communication about the event was dismal at best so I didn't have very high expectations. I am happy to report that I was in tears by the end of the ceremony. I loved hearing all the different teachers speak so highly (and sincerely) of these kids. The highlight (and tear-inducing moment) was when a local artist unveiled the project she had been working on with the students all year long. Each eighth grader created a silk screen self portrait. She took pieces of all of them and weaved together an amazing display. The vice prinicipal read a poem about how one thread is weak on its own but when sewn together with other pieces it becomes that much stronger. This was a metaphor for the class of 2015. They overcame the hurdles and really did make some lasting friendships. This is the only class in the history of our town that will have students attending all three high schools--definitely a rare event. Click here to read the local paper's story.

We quickly took some snapshots before they were whisked away for their celebration dance.

Mom and Auntie Lori

Dad was on a business trip so just mother and son.

With his proud grandparents

Facebook: It's not going away

2011-05-30T20:05:00.000-07:00

A couple years ago, after months of resisting, I gave in and became a "Facebooker" I loved reconnecting with old high school and college friends whom I'd lost touch with. I enjoyed seeing my 500 friends' daily status updates and pictures of their families. I was hooked. When "friend requests" came in I felt like a high school girl tallying her votes for homecoming queen. But like everything else that comes on the scene with great gusto, I figured this too would be a fad that would be fade into oblivion in a matter of years. Boy, was I wrong. Facebook is now on track to replace Google as a search engine, to be your prime source for checking email and an app to get to their page is pretty much standard on every phone.

I have a handful of friends (including my own husband) who eschew the social networking sensation for various reasons. They regularly let others know that they "hate Facebook" or "I don't text." To each his own. However, I recently had an experience which reminded me that, like it or not, social networking and technology is not going away. And if you are in a position of influence or wish to have relationship with today's young people, then you'll want to know all the ins and outs of this craze. As much as you wish they would "pick up the phone and call you" they won't. Even if you're convinced that they can't handle the amount of information relayed via a computer screen or phone, they're not going to suddenly start "talking face to face." Believe me I've preached this in my own house with no success. I put limits on the texting, computer usage and screen time in general. When the minutes are up, neither of my adolescents change their behavior. They would rather do without than be forced to behave in such an outdated way as calling someone's home on a landline. It's worse than having me kiss and hug them in front of their friends!

All my ranting and raving wasn't getting me anywhere so I took more of the approach of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em." As much as I hate to admit it, we have had actual instant message conversations while we're both in the same house. I find they are willing to be a lot more open with me than when we're sitting next to one another at the kitchen table. I can see how it makes them feel like we're on more of a level playing field--even though they know I'm not their friend. A willingness to meet them where they're at shows them I'm not going to dig in my stubborn heels and refuse to accept the rapid changes of their culture. It's a delicate balance and I know I'm not getting it perfect all the time but I have found the arguments between us are fewer than before.

Now on to my story................my middle son and his friends were putting their index fingers under their noses and saying "I'm Hitler." One girl took pictures of some of them with her phone and my son and another girl said "We should tag her" about one of the girls in the picture. They meant "tag" as in identify her on their Facebook page in the picture once it's posted. Unfortunately one of the girls they were referring to was Jewish and she thought the kids were speaking of imitating Hitler's horrific acts during the Holocaust. The teacher got wind of this and came unglued. He assumed my son was being Anti-Semitic and let him have it. I got a phone call letting me know of the situation--from his perspective. When my son got home, I asked him about it and he told me what I just relayed at the beginning of this paragraph. My child (and likely the other children with him at lunch) was unaware of the history behind Nazi Germany and had no idea how his actions were being construed. It was a great teachable moment for both of us. However, if his teacher, who spends his entire day with 11 & 12 year olds, had spent some time familiarizing himself with Facebook terms and how his students spend their time socially, it would have made for a lot less drama and a little more understanding. And perhaps a "teachable moment" for everyone.

I'm not saying I agree with everything about our current culture. Nor do I think kids should be joking about anything to do with Adolf Hitler. I do think though, that a little bit of acceptance and knowledge of today's adolescents, whether you like it or not, would go a long way.

I'm in like Flynn

2011-05-15T22:31:00.001-07:00

Have you ever know deep in your heart that you were meant to do something but

every step along the way has been a battle? Not a monumental fight but an obvious one. Discouragement sets in and you begin to wonder if you're on the right road. When it gets hard, you start to question "maybe this isn't really what I want to do." I believe that when we are truly seeking God and He clearly doesn't want us to continue--or even begin--down a certain path, he will repeatedly close the doors. In fact, He doesn't just close them, He SLAMS them shut. After a while our stubborn skulls finally figure out that we might want to proceed in a different direction. However, I also believe that when He calls us to a place or position that is really, truly living in our glory, the enemy will make sure to put every obstacle in our path. They're never big obstacles just annoying, time consuming, distracting, frustrating ones. This has been my journey to pursuing a teaching certificate.

Just over a year ago I set out on this unknown path only knowing that I was supposed to put one foot in front of the other--in 48 hours. After pulling an all-nighter writing four essays, begging colleagues to write letters of recommendation with less than 24 hours notice and pleading for my 20 year old undergrad transcripts from a stubborn Registrar's office, I dropped off my application packet with minutes to spare before the posted deadline. Four weeks later the rejection letter arrived. Among the words of denial were also words of advice and some suggestions. They "powers that be" wanted me to take two full quarters of English classes, obtain a letter of recommendation from a current professor and reapply. No problem. Wrong. Problem #1: It's kind of difficult to take upper level college courses when the said college won't let you in. Solved: After a month of getting the run around I was allowed to take the classes at the local community college with the promise of counting them as transfer credits. And I was able to get the ball rolling by taking a summer course as formal admission is not required to attend during the months of June and July. Done.

Problem # 2: The community college doesn't recognize that I've taken the pre-requisite of English 101 and I must sit in the Registration office to prove this with my 20 year old transcript. Oh, and in the meantime, the classes I wanted, filled up. Solved: I was able to take an online course for the fall quarter, my advisor allowed another literature class to count and I "blue-slipped" into the elusive Creative Writing class for spring.

Problem #3: My application is ready to go for Fall quarter 2011 with the exception of an English professor's letter. I email a request two weeks before the deadline. "No problem." A week later, "Oops, I forgot. Is it too late?" A week later the Office of Admission calls to say they still had not received it. Solved: Another desperate email request and the letter magically appears.

At the end of last month I pulled out my file with the rejection letter from last year. Dated: April 29, 2010. For two straight weeks I checked the mailbox daily and my inbox every time I passed the computer. Nothing. Zip. Nada. Then on Wednesday afternoon I see the email. With one eye closed I nervously scanned the letter until I saw the words "Congratulations" staring back at me. I scream, jump up and down and ponder who to call first. Before I pick up the phone I see an email from the same address with the subject line : "Recall." A short message follows simply stating that they wish to retract their previous email announcing my admission into the Secondary Education department. What? OUCH! A quick phone call later I discover that the university has not yet given their approval as the state only allows a certain number of post baccalaureate students per quarter. Deflated I wait once more. Friday afternoon the email arrives in my inbox. The subject line: CONFIRMED. Yay!!!

So, you see, doors closed, locked and bolted shut are one thing. False starts and temporary disqualifications are another. Don't let discouragement win if you've been on a similar journey. I'm here to tell you to not give up.

I have no doubt there will be numerous more detours and "fender benders" like these along the way but I'd say God makes it pretty clear when we're driving down the right road.

God is Good

2011-04-30T13:38:00.000-07:00

I've been hearing that phrase a lot lately. I do agree with it, however, I find it usually follows a story of how everything went the person's way. Rarely does someone convey a tragedy, sadness or pain and end with the explanation that our Heavenly Father is "good." Why is God's goodness dependent on having life turn out to our liking? But it sure seems to be, huh?

Case in point. I was in one of my favorite gift stores a while back. The lady helping me was in her early 40's. As she was wrapping my package, she shared how her oldest was graduating from high school and they went out to celebrate on their boat. She then went on to describe the conversation she and her husband were having (while dancing cheek to cheek on said boat)about how great their life was. I listened as she went on and then she ended with "Yeah, we've really had nothing bad happen to us. No major life issues, no illnesses or accidents. God has been good." Inside I was shouting "Wouldn't he still be good even if you had?? Is that really a blessing? How can you be compassionate to another's trials if you've had none of your own?" It wasn't the time or the place but that conversation stuck with me. So then when I heard a friend utter those words yesterday it brought me back to this scenario.

I know I have fallen victim to that same thinking. If I do this, then my life will turn out perfectly. I'm not sure where that comes from but I'm glad that God (in his GOODNESS) saw fit to save me from myself. I thought that if I was a "good girl" and obeyed all the moral rules, then no harm would ever befall me. I was mad at God for years as I endured disappointment after disappointment. I really expected life to go my way as a reward for my moralistic lifestyle. Instead I dug in my heels and chewed on the fat of my pride when I didn't receive the material blessings I thought I deserved. However, I have learned that the sufferings are His greatest blessings. And through those sufferings, is when the goodness of God really shines through. And our response shows the world where our peace lies.

I love these lyrics from the Mercy Me song "Bring the Rain"

"I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise you after all that I've been through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You?"

Or do they change who HE is? Never. He IS good. All the time.

Short Cast-finally!

2011-04-19T16:45:00.000-07:00

After three LONG weeks of excessive itching that couldn't be scratched, missing out on swimming, bowling, biking or anything else that required two arms, Ben is one step closer to freedom. Last week he "upgraded down" to a short cast glowing in his soccer team color of purple. We have now changed the kitchen chalkboard to a countdown to being cast-free. Twenty more days!

The other party took responsibility for his crime.

I guess you could call it "Huskies purple" too-if you were a "Husky."

Hutch

2011-04-18T05:30:00.000-07:00

When Trey proposed marriage almost 20 years ago we were in a quandry about many of the wedding details. We had been living in Maryland just 8 months but had begun dating while back in Seattle. We didn't have a home church and thought it made more sense to get married where I grew up. The tricky part was where to have the ceremony and who to marry us. Earlier in our courtship we attended Antioch Bible Church in Kirkland, Washington and quickly fell in love with Pastor Ken Hutcherson-a former NFL linebacker-turned-preacher who was larger than life. He was the kind of man who told it like it was, loved God with all his heart and soul and spoke tenderly about his wife and children. We knew it was a long shot but we sent him a letter (way before email was an option) asking if he would consider performing our ceremony. Surprisingly, he agreed as long as we committed to pre-marital counseling at a local church. I say "surprisingly" because I'm certain we weren't the only ones asking for favors. His church was growing by leaps and bounds and he was in high demand. While preparing for the big day, we didn't give it much thought as to the impact this man would have on our guests. In typical 24-year-old fashion we were pre-occupied with ourselves, making August 1st, 1992 the most perfect day and sailing off into "happily ever after." Leave it to Hutch to shake it up.

It all started with the rehearsal. Not only had I disappointed my own grandmother by choosing to get married in a Protestant church, but when Trey's 85-year-old southern grandmother walked into the sanctuary and caught sight of "Hutch" at the altar, her first question to her daughter was: "Who is that man?" "He's the minister, Mom." Big sigh. As we practiced for the wedding day, Hutch proceeded to give our entire wedding party a talking to about what he expected from them. No grape juice that might spill on my dress. No whining or fussing and calling attention to themselves about anything. No late arrivals. He made it clear that it was our day and nothing and no one would get in the way of that. He immediately earned respect from the skeptical and redeemed himself with both grandmas. I was a little surprised at how strong he spoke but I trusted his motives. He really did have our best interests in mind.

Judging from his earlier speech, I knew we were in for more of the same during the ceremony. Once again, Hutch did not disappoint. Just before the vows, he gave an amazing description of the significance of using gold as a symbol for the marriage relationship heating up. He sugar coated nothing. He followed with imploring our witnesses to accept that they had just as much responsibility for the success of our marriage as we did. He took nothing lightly and I know his words did not fall on deaf ears. For years to come we heard comments from friends and family that they had never been to a wedding with a pastor like this--ever. Some of our friends even ordered a copy of our video so they could hear his message once again. One couple were inspired to began attending his church and he performed their marriage ceremony shortly thereafter.

Once we moved back to the Northwest, we always talked about wanting to see Hutch again. Living almost two hours away from Kirkland with a busy family made it difficult. We kept up with him through the news. In the past 6-7 years he has becoming a major figure in local politics speaking out about that which he believes is unbiblical. He has made a name for himself beyond the pulpit but, more importantly, he has never compromised his integrity or convictions in the process. Many on the other side would call him a polarizing figure but he is simply a man who will not go down without a fight and will die for his beliefs. Unfortunately, we also learned that this is the path he is currently on. Prostate cancer entered his life 8 years ago and has been slowly ravaging his body. He is a shell of what he used to be physically but his spirit and conviction has only become stronger.

Last weekend, Quinn had a soccer game just miles down the road from Antioch so we took the opportunity to risk that he might be preaching. He was! When we walked in and I saw him sitting in the back of the church prior to the service, it was sobering to see the physical changes He looked at us quizzically and when I said "We're Trey and Dana, you married us 18 years ago," his face lit up and warm hugs followed. It was sooooooo good to see him. We introduced him to the boys and they loved his humor and teasing. Although they were most impressed by the Super Bowl ring displayed on his right hand. (Maybe we can find some spiritual significance in this.) The service was incredible and his preaching as amazing as ever. It was well worth the trip.

Thank you, Hutch for staying true to who you've been called to be. You continue to inspire just as you did for a starry-eyed young couple and their unsuspecting family and friends 18 short years ago. Godspeed, dear friend.

August 1, 1992

Antioch Bible Church

April 10, 2011

On second thought

2011-04-16T17:22:00.001-07:00

So one of my last posts was singing the praises of the community college experience. These first two weeks of spring quarter have made me consider a drastic change in my opinion. What a difference an instructor, a subject and some classmates can make. After coming off the high of a 4.0, a job offer to be a writing tutor on campus (which didn't pan out after all) and my cup full of new knowledge, I must say I am reserving judgment this time around.

If I choose to be "Pollyanna" I would simply say that a lot of it has to do with the fact that: 1.) I am taking courses which are considered humanities requirements that most students are simply trying to endure for 12 weeks; 2.) One of my classes is taught from 5-7:30 in the evening, two nights a week, in a classroom with no windows; 3.) I am the oldest person in both classes so the age diversity I loved last time around doesn't exist; and 4.) I can't expect every single quarter to be stellar.

On the other hand, the more jaded and realistic side of my personality is just plain bummed out. When my instructor assigns reading with no shortage of "f-bombs" and crude dialogue, it's hard for me to jump on board. When the classmate seated behind me tells the teacher if she calls her by a nickname that many others use for her given name, "she will want to throw something at her", I want to find another seat. When the instructor asks a student his opinion of the assignment and he replies "I didn't read it. I forgot." I want to ask, "why are you here?" When I watch the young men and women around me with sadness in their faces and a faraway look in their eyes, it makes me realize how disconnected our culture is from relationship and over connected to laptops and smart phones.

I know I can't change any of what has happened so far and that my hopes might be considered antiquated by today's generation but I still believe it can exist. It makes me all the more determined to foster a classroom community where no one feels like I do. I'll just have to wait 2 more years to do it. In the meantime I will plug along, keep a smile on my face and a bar of soap in my pocket (just kidding).

And with a click of a mouse....

2011-03-25T14:32:00.001-07:00

..he is officially registered for HIGH SCHOOL! Yes. The class of 2015 had their freshman orientation last night. Back in the day we just showed up a week before school started, collected our schedule and went on our merry way to pick out the perfect outfit for Day One. Not anymore. As with every other subject in life, there are choices galore. Did you know that fall sports don't start in "the fall?" Pre-practices begin in June. Yes, June.

After a 45 minute introduction to every club known to man, a brief description of every class on the schedule, a performance by the girls' choir and a testimonial from a staff member/parent-of-a sophomore, we were free to roam the tables in the corridor. Everything from Photography Club to Football to the PTSA was represented behind display boards and smiling faces of teachers, students and parents. Quinn and I took it all in and left a bit overwhelmed. Fortunately, deciding on his schedule for the next four years wasn't required. Phew. We did, however, come home and log on to the school website and pick electives: French and Weight Training. Hmmm.

For nostalgia's sake, I just had to post a picture of Quinn jumping off the bus on his first day of Kindergarten. I remember a fellow parent telling me "Once they start Kindergarten, 12 years will fly by." Boy, was he right. Before I know it we'll be filling out college applications and ordering a cap and gown. One milestone at a time, right?

September 5, 2002 (look at Ian's cute reaction to the left)

Yes, it's broken

2011-03-23T14:27:00.000-07:00

That is a phrase I am growing tired of hearing. But I guess with a house full of active boys it's to be expected. Although, "it's broken" is often followed by "it was just a fluke thing. This normally wouldn't result in a break." Of course not. At least this time it happened on a weekday as opposed to a holiday or Sunday night. And, at least this time, we have health insurance.

Poor sweet Ben has now had the misfortune of visiting the orthopedic office twice in the course of ten months. Last Friday he had a teacher workday so Dad took the day off too. (yes, it's the school's fault entirely) A few minutes into their one-on-one goal shooting, Ben went down to stop the ball and his elbow jammed into his knee. At first, like always, we were hoping for "it's just a bad bruise." From past experience as most neglectful parents of the year (with Ian) we learned the hard way that it's always better to get an x-ray-especially when the arm is twice the size of the opposing one 24 hours later.

The pediatrician at the after hours clinic predicted a buckle fracture. "We don't even cast those anymore. Just a splint for 3 weeks." Phew. As I stood behind the x-ray tech, even without any formal training, it was quite obvious this was no simple injury. The forearm bone was snapped right down the middle. Not a huge break but enough of one to warrant a "Uh-oh. I'm afraid you'll be seeing the orthopedic specialist on Monday." Oh, and soccer season starts on Saturday. Boo hoo.

Ben got the royal treatment and didn't seem to mind the two hour visit and being shuffled around from room to room. The best part of all was picking his cast color(s). The casting tech worked her magic and he ended up with a mix of green AND glow-in-the-dark. She even turned off the lights in the casting room for full effect at the end. Now that the novelty is wearing off, it's a different story around here. A full arm cast for the next 3 weeks then cut down to a short one for 2 more weeks. At least it's not summer, right?

Big brother pens his autograph--on half the cast.

He's still smiling.

Trying to get the full effect of glow in the dark but the camera just won't capture it.

Ian had to make his mark--gotta love big brothers.

My Children's Literature Portfolio

2011-03-21T08:05:00.000-07:00

For my children's literature class this quarter, we were required to complete a portfolio of our work and turn it in today. What exactly does a portfolio look like? I wondered. Our professor shared some of her previous students' work to give us an idea. They encompassed everything from scrapbooks to power points to a website. The website caught my eye and I perused some of those "make your own website" pages but felt completely and utterly overwhelmed. I mentioned this to my professor and she connected me with the young lady who created her own website. After several trying to communicate through several desperate emails, she offered to meet me on campus and walk me through the process. (So very kind of a complete stranger, I might add.) And it all clicked-so to speak.

After spending close to 40 hours on this project, I am on my way to turn it in-and then collapse. Click here to view.

Almost three down

2011-03-13T20:47:00.001-07:00

A week from today marks the end of winter quarter. At the onset I was full of dread. This was my first experience as a full time student attending classes on campus. Up until this point I only did one class at a time and that was more than enough. Unlike last quarter, I didn't have to juggle a job and three sports' schedules on top of it all. (Winters are pretty mild for our family as no one does an indoor sport so that's why I dove in with both feet) But I still had trepidation about the unknown.

To be perfectly honest, I wasn't too thrilled with going to a community college. When my advisor told me he would "let me" take half of my endorsement requirements there I didn't see it as a favor. Even though the cost would be substantially less, to me, it was like downgrading from a Mercedes to a Honda. I took the route of high school to four-year university without giving it a second thought. In my mind, junior college was for those who lacked goals and motivation and couldn't get in to a "real college" or 25-year-olds getting a G.E.D. I assumed the instructors were people who weren't able to secure a teaching post at a university so came here as a last resort. Boy was I wrong.

Within the first week I was so impressed by my fellow classmates. The diversity was a welcome change to the elitist attitude I experienced on the university campus last summer. I sat next to a 65-year-old great grandmother who was returning to school, after a 45 year absence, in pursuit of a Fine Arts degree. Behind me was a 20-year-old homeschooler who had left a crummy college experience in the midwest and was starting over toward a degree in education. In front of me, a "displaced homemaker" whose life changed overnight when her husband walked away from their 24-year-marriage. I watched the "youngsters" show patience with the older students as they helped them navigate our online assignments. As we shared in classroom and online discussions, I was floored by the maturity, respect and brilliance in their thoughts, opinions and beliefs. I was in awe of their stories and their struggles. Not one of them lacked motivation, most were also working full time jobs in addition to their course load and no one expected anything handed to them.

My instructors have been welcoming, positive, kind, smart women who love what they're doing. They know how to foster a sense of community and impart a love for the subject at hand. They grade with realistic expectations but push their students to get out of the box. They respect and encourage. They believe in every student no matter what their background. It is so refreshing and makes me want more.

So maybe getting this degree isn't about my academic education after all. I'm getting a true education in the "classroom of life". What a welcome surprise.

Accepting servanthood when we want royalty

2011-03-01T09:43:00.000-08:00

Last month I posted about a struggle I was facing but left the details vague. I received a few emails asking if I was okay and what was going on with me/us. It was on purpose that I didn't expand on the specifics out of respect for my husband. It's one thing for me to divulge my own personal stuff here but to put others out there without their permission is another issue altogether. I'm sorry I caused undue concern.

That being said.......I'll just say that we experienced disappointment over Trey not receiving something we both felt was a "no brainer" and well-deserved. The "powers that be" made a decision that, to us, was completely out of left field. This was well traveled territory for us but that didn't make it any easier to accept.

I remember when something like this happened a couple years ago and a friend was in the middle of a bible study on David. She reminded me of how long David served even after he was anointed to be king. He knew he was destined for greatness but he still had to "pay his dues". Last week this email came from a different friend who is in the middle of a different study on David. It was the sweetest bit of encouragement and one that applies to anyone in the midst of despair and wondering. Whether you've been passed over for a promotion, forced to take a job that you're overqualified for, sold your house and had to go back to renting, God hasn't forgotten you. What may look like a setback is usually God's provision.

This is the excerpt from Priscilla Shirer's study "Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed: A Study of David."

"In the months immediately following David's anointing, God orchestrated a shocking series of events. Instead of promotion to the position of king, David submitted to serving the one already in that position. Fully aware that God's Spirit was with him to lead God's chosen people, David served in full submission as a mere armor bearer to the king. The first step after being anointed was to serve. Often servanthood and submission mark the truest test of the anointed person. David was no less anointed by God when serving than later when he sat on the throne.

David's anointing was not merely to lead the Hebrews 22 years later. That same anointing was to empower him to walk the road to his destination and fulfill each obligation along the way. God empowered him not just to rule as king but to have patience until he sat on the throne, to submit to authority, to serve, and to have faith in God's promise despite circumstances.

What was true for David is true for you. Whatever your life entails right now--no matter how far removed it seems from what you expected--He has anointed you and divinely equipped you to not merely handle it but to thrive in it. If you can't be faithful in a little, God will not give you the larger assignment. he may want to adjust your life and character in smaller assignments to prepare you for the larger ones.

"Because we know that this extraordinary day is just ahead, we pray for you all the time--pray that our God will make you fit for what he's called you to be, pray that he'll fill your good ideas and acts of faith with his own energy so that it all amounts to something. If your life honors the name of Jesus, he will honor you. Grace is behind and through all of this, our God giving himself freely, the Master, Jesus Christ, giving himself freely." (2 Thess. 1:11-12 Msg)

During the 22 years of waiting, we don't find David longing to be king or looking for ways to rush God's timing. Even when his life was in danger at the hands of Saul, he did not wish the worst on his enemy. Instead, h continued to trust in God's best for his life and fully commit to whatever God asked of him. In fact, David's commitment to engage in what God brought into his life was precisely what equipped him for the next set of circumstances he would face. His willingness to submit to the roll of "delivery boy" for his brothers on the battlefield led him face-to-face with Goliath. David declared his preparedness to face the giant because he had faced lions and bears. Each circumstance David faced and overcame strengthened him to handle the next challenge. All of those years of service were not a waste after all. Each season was a necessary part of his development to be king."

In spite of how I might FEEL, I want to serve "in full submission to the armor bearer" while I wait for "the larger assignment."

To Him who is able to do more than we could ever ask or imagine........

Joy is coming

2011-02-17T08:16:00.000-08:00

I posted this video on Facebook yesterday with a message to all my friends who are hurting right now. So much pain out there right now. May this encourage, bring hope and shower you with peace. Press on.

Keeping perspective while keeping the faith

2011-02-05T11:30:00.000-08:00

This past week has dealt some blows that have threatened to spiral me into a place of self pity and resignation. Instead of taking them to God, I've chosen to remain in this pity party full of the questions: "why me/us? " "why this?" "what have I done wrong?" I have taken my eyes off the finish line and instead focused on the grueling pain of the race. In his goodness, God let me go down this path for a few days but sent gentle reminders of where it would lead if I gave in. While natural to ask, none of these questions really matter-- nor will they change anything. They just help me give in to the danger of comparison and discontent. The message below arrived in my Inbox yesterday and it was worth sharing. It's written by a young woman in her 20's who heads up a ministry to teenage girls. Her audience is middle schoolers but her words of wisdom don't transcend age.

"If this was my last day on earth what would I say to you?

I would say that God is so much better than you think He is but He doesn’t owe you anything. Not a happy marriage, cute kids, a nice home, a great career, good friends, a healthy body, food every day and a cozy place to sleep at night. Millions of people don’t have any of those and yet God is as good to them as He is to you because He loves them just as much. If you have those things you should be crazy thankful each day instead of complaining about what you don’t have. God doesn’t owe you a long life and if you get through today it’s only because He was gracious enough to give you the breath and the strength to make it. If you were born and raised here in America, all of that is hard to hear because we consider those things a given. We have expectations of God that are unbiblical and dangerous because somewhere along the way the American Dream has morphed so seamlessly with our faith that we can’t recognize the unbiblical when it’s staring us in the face and leading us into destruction.

The truth of who God is and what life is really about has gotten so buried by lies in our culture that even in the church it’s hard to tell what’s real and what isn’t. There’s a common belief here, because we are so materially blessed, that God shows His favor by showering more material blessings on those people He is proud of. There’s also a more subtle belief that we deserve good things from Him. “Deserve” is a big marketing idea in this world and we’ve been so inundated with advertisers who tell us that we deserve the nice car, hot spouse and higher education that we now believe we “deserve” only good things from a good God without the greater understanding that some of the good things He has planned for us will look like tragedies from our perspective. For some of you this life will be a short one. Maybe you get 15 years and then it’s a fight to the death against cancer. Some of you will find yourself in a horribly difficult marriage even though you did exactly what all the good Christian people told you to do. You waited and prayed for “the one” and when you finally met him at church, you dated well without giving into temptation and had the storybook wedding. And some of you will never marry even though you desperately want to be a wife and mother. In each of those situations God is good and has planned for you a life that will end in your salvation and His glory. And in each of those situations, if your expectations of God are lies, you’ll feel hopelessly betrayed by Him and walk through a serious, painful crisis of faith from which you might not recover."

This young lady is right. If my expectations of God are lies then I will feel betrayed by Him--and I have. When life doesn't go my way I get all bent out of shape over those who have what I want. Not only do I think I deserve comfort and ease, I also decide that my friends and neighbors don't appreciate it the way I would. I reason that because they "haven't walked in my shoes" they don't deserve the material blessings that should belong to me. "I've worked hard." "I would share." "I...I...I.."

This same day another message came from a daily devotional I receive from Proverbs 31 Ministries. It hit me right between the eyes. I want to decide what comes my way and how long it lasts. In a word: I want to be "God." I don't like the card I've been dealt so I'm going to grumble about it to anyone who will listen.

"In Jonah 4, Jonah wanted to stay in the shade as he climbed up the mountain to pout about the salvation God had offered the Ninevites. God caused a branch to sprout up and provide him shelter so Jonah could rest under that branch. But then God caused a worm to eat away Jonah's shelter, exposing him to the heat once again.

Jonah became angry and grumbled about his lack of shade. He—like me—wanted to be comfortable. He wasn't thinking about what was best for him or what awaited him in the future. But God was. Jonah's immediate comfort wasn't God's first priority; eternity was.

Perhaps you're in a place of extreme heat bearing down on you. You feel the heat of bad decisions and broken relationships bearing down on you and you wonder why God doesn't provide some shade.

Or maybe you're feeling some cold temps invading places that used to be warm for you. A marriage has grown cold. Your finances feel frozen. Why doesn't God provide some warmth, you might be asking? Maybe because He knows that soon you won't need that shade or that in the future that warm place is going to keep you from becoming the person He wants you to be. (Yes! Emphasis mine.)

I ran recently in the cold, avoiding the shady spots because the temperature was much cooler there. I thought back to the summer and my conversation with God. He knew this time was coming but I didn't see it then. He knew that the shade wouldn't always be the best place for me. God loves us enough to take us to different places—sometimes carrying us if necessary as our key verse says—always preparing us for what lies ahead. He will make sure we reach the place He has for us and that we are the people He wants us to be when we get there."

Regardless of how I "feel" it's these reminders that bring me back to earth and knock some sense into my stubborn spirit. May they encourage you as well.

Keeping my eye on the prize,

Everyone needs an Aunt Nancy

2011-01-26T09:00:00.000-08:00

NOTE: This was scheduled to post on Sunday, January 23rd but we had some technical difficulties.

When Trey and I first met and began sharing family stories, I learned that his dad, named Jim, had a sister named Nancy--which also happened to be my mother-in-law's name. As it turned out, his Aunt Nancy was also married to a Jim. Jim married a Nancy and Nancy married a Jim. Did I lose you yet?

Anyway, a couple months after our move to Maryland, and four months into our dating relationship, I met the beloved Aunt Nancy. I knew I liked her immediately when she arrived to Easter dinner wearing rabbit ears. She was kind, engaging and so very interested in you. (Uncle Jim was equally as likeable but that's another post.) Even though I didn't grow up with her as my aunt, I've never felt like I wasn't her niece.e. From that Easter dinner on, I can't recall a birthday or any other holiday she has not remembered me, Trey and now the kids. She even sends my sister a birthday card every year simply because she shares her special day with Uncle Jim. So in honor of HER birthday today, I dedicate this post to my favorite aunt.

Most likely due to the fact that I didn't grow up in their family, I find all of her idiosyncracies utterly adorable. She must know this because, according to her son, whenever he expresses his annoyance over her extreme attention to detail her response is "Well Dana likes it when I do.... (fill in the blank)." Some of the many reasons I'm so fond of this lady include her extreme thoughtfulness, ageless sense of adventure and that she still only corresponds by the written word. No computer mumbo jumbo for her. A few years ago we were headed back to the D.C. area for Trey's high school reunion. The day before our departure a note arrived in the mail detailing the upcoming forecast and advising us on how to pack for the trip. It didn't even dawn on her that we could retrieve this information with the click of a mouse. So innocent and naive but sincere all in one package. This past fall, just before the infamous Marine Corp Marathon in Washington, D.C., she clipped an article from the Washington Post with a complete diagram of the human body and how each area responds to running a marathon based on whether it was properly trained or not. She thought we might be interested to know this information. Again, no clue that we're not restricted from viewing the same diagram in spite of not receiving her newspaper. She's well travelled and continues to actively traipse all over the world. Recently she and Uncle Jim went on a 30-Day cruise through Asia. Rarely does she forget to send a postcard our way in the midst of her great adventures. This last one read: Sailed on a glass bottom boat in the Red Sea and rode a camel In her 70's!!

Happy, happy birthday dear Aunt Nancy!! May the joy you bring others return to you today!

Surprising Trey at his 40th birthday party

Meeting for lunch in D.C. before our flight back to Seattle

With Trey's brother Michael at Mimi's 60th birthday party.

My board game analogy

2011-01-11T04:58:00.000-08:00

Who didn't grow up playing Monopoly, Clue, Scrabble and the like? With game time being replaced by screen time, it seems a gargantuan task to coerce anyone into indulging me in my love of board games. Word games are my all-time favorite but I'm always up for cards, dice or any challenge involving more than one person. Aside from the fallout of the digital age, I got to thinking why I encounter such resistance. Over the holidays, I was rejected over and over by relatives and other visitors who informed me that "I don't do games" or "I hate board games". And it was always an adult who said this. Never a child. It became suddenly clear to me what the common denominator was: an inability (or defiance) to laugh at ourselves and/or show vulnerability. The people I know who willingly oblige--or better yet, suggest--playing a game are those who are comfortable with admitting fault, accepting their imperfection and enjoying life.

Think about it. When you misspell a word in Scrabble, let down your team in Guesstures because you can't act out "hula hoop" or end up with the greatest number of tiles in Rummikub, it's downright embarrassing. Regardless of whether we're willing to admit it or not, there's a spirit of competition in all of us. Who doesn't like winning? But if children can handle getting ribbed a little, why can't we? Why must we take ourselves so seriously?

Believe me, I used to struggle in this area myself. I only wanted to play games I knew I could win. I failed miserably at anything that required strategy. I had already decided "I wasn't good at that" so why bother? For years I would say: "I'm not good at that" or "Let's play something else". I was missing out on some great family time and awesome memories as I buried my head in a book or found some other way to stay occupied. Yet once I started regularly giving in to the pleas of my boys, I wanted more. Nothing compares to laughing together and enjoying those you love.

If you fall into this category, think about doing the opposite the next time someone says "Let's play (fill-in-the-blank)." Instead of groaning, join in. You might be pleasantly surprised at the outcome. Both in the results of the game and your attitude.

My little angel is 14

2011-01-06T04:00:00.000-08:00

Is this not the cutest angel you've ever seen? I'm wondering where he went. This little cherub used to greet me with a precious smile and warm hug every time I picked him up from this preschool where the ornament was made. This Christmas, as I pulled this out of the ornament box, I had to catch my breath and hold back the tears. We all know that our babies do one day become teenagers and those smiles and hugs get replaced with annoyed looks and "what have you done for me lately?" I just wasn't prepared for how quickly the time would pass. On the eve of his 14th birthday, I am now saying "just four more years". Wow.

As I looked through photos for my in-laws annual family scrapbook I was sobered and stunned by the difference in just 12 months. 25 pounds and 4 inches to be exact. The boyish face is now a man's-even shaving once in a while-- and the sweet, innocent voice is about 50 octaves lower. He does his own laundry-or maybe just recycles the clothing for all I know--makes his own lunches, manages his own schedule. And yet, we're still responsible for him. Such a strange time in a parent's life.

This has definitely been a challenging year as the boundaries have been pushed, consequences for behavior have been in overdrive and the grocery and clothing bills have skyrocketed. These are trying times to be raising a teenager and especially one with a strong will and insatiable desire for independence. As his mother, who has 29 years on him, I just want to provide protection from the "big, bad world" and return to 1999 when my biggest worry was potty training. On some level I long for him to stay a little boy and yet, I know we are called to "train them up in the way they should go--emphasis on "GO". The final goal is not overprotection and shielding but providing a good foundation and preparing him for independence. As hard as this has been, I know it is essential.

This summer I read "Parenting Your Teen and Loving It" and the author had some timeless advice for moms of teenage boys: "Preteen and teenage boys need to be free to become men. And that usually involves increased privacy, increased independence and decision making and increased respect from their mothers.......It's hard to loosen that nurturing spirit, that emotional connectedness, and that maternal response, and let it shift to a new place. It's difficult to step back and find a new way to relate. Because in some ways you surrender a piece of your mothering soul when you release a boy to become a young man--and that can be painful. But it's paramount to his wholeness. And even though the transition is tenuous, it is incredibly critical. It's critical because it impacts how he views himself. It's critical because it sets the stage for future relationships in his life. I'ts critical because the ability to have a healthy relationship between mother and son hinges on it. If a mom can confess that yes, something is changing with my son...If she can acknowledge that he's different now, and so are we...If she can realize that because of that change, she needs to rethink the way she acts and reacts..then she will honor the wonder of what God is doing."

As that day of ultimate independence approaches with lightning speed, I want to celebrate my firstborn and the young man he is becoming, not ruminate over what I'm losing. Because what I'm gaining is far more important.

Happy, happy 14th birthday, Quinn!! I love who you are and look forward to who you will be. Thanks for the privilege of being your mom.

As we bid good-bye to 2010

2010-12-31T05:10:00.000-08:00

One year ago today I sat with my journal and poured my heart out. 2009 was a year I longed to forget and the words I penned are testament to how strongly I felt. As I re-read the page, I thought "what a downer!!" I was almost embarrassed to admit those sentiments were a reflection of what was in my soul. Needless to say I was in a bad place.

"12-31-09~Sitting here before the clock strikes midnight and we begin a new year and end a decade. Holding out hope that this new one will not resemble the last. Wishing for a respite from the constant slugging away day after day to see no progress. Hoping for the end of month after month of broken dreams and sad hearts. Begging God for a new lease on life where the good times will last longer than the bad ones. Dying for a breakthrough where God puts an end to old, destructive thought patterns and breathes new life into this heart that can't take another morsel of sadness or bad news or disappointment."

I definitely don't feel as hopeless as last year and God did come through in many of the ways I asked. But it's always good to reflect on where we've been but more important to focus on where we're going. A couple days ago, my daily email from Internet Cafe Devotions was all about this very subject. As I scrolled through the message, I loved the questions she posed at the end. A perfect combination of considering the past while focusing on the future. Two nights ago I had a belated Christmas celebration with my BFF's where we went around the room and answered these questions. I won't share theirs but I'm happy to divulge mine. Maybe you'd like to do the same?

1. What was the one thing that brought you joy this year?

Watching Ian come into his own. The last half of the year he blossomed in every area of his life-socially, academically and athletically. It was heart warming to see.

2. What was the biggest challenge you faced? What were the results? Is there something you could have done differently?

Juggling school, work and home. The results were straight A's, money to pay tuition and a very messy house. I could have asked for more help from others and not felt guilty about it.

3. What were you most afraid of?

Hearing "Honey, I've been let go". I think I'm always afraid of this. Something I continually lay down over and over, year after year.

4. What was the greatest lesson the Lord taught you?

That I need to worry about what he has called me to, use my gifts the way he is asking and not concern myself with other's opinions or how I think they should be using their gifts. When something is glaringly obvious to me, it's hard when others don't have the same enthusiasm as I do. Offering grace and accepting that we are each on our own journey at our own pace is a good lesson for me to take to heart.

5. Is the Lord asking you to leave some things behind as the year ends?

Yes. Many things but the biggest one is the belief that I am not deserving of spending time and money on. The martyr role I have taken on since becoming a mother makes it hard for me to justify fussing over myself without feeling selfish. I always talk myself out of most every personal purchase because there are always so many more pressing needs in our family: tires for the car, new cleats, dentist visits, etc. I want to leave behind the guilt I carry when I do indulge from time to time.

6. Are there any changes you feel the Lord is asking you to make in the new year?

Definitely to slow down. Since 2005, I've been asking for a theme from God for each coming year. Last year it was patience and this year it is slowing down and enjoying the process-no matter what that process is. I tend to want to check things off my list and move on to the next thing. I live life in a hurry because there's always a deadline looming. I know God is asking me to take the time to do things right, even if it takes a little longer.

Finally, I wish I could take credit for this awesome quote but it was at the end of these questions and I absolutely loved it........

"As we move into the unknown wonders of 2011, may His abiding love fill you, His purposes compel you and His indescribable peace surround you."

This is my prayer for you. Amen and Happy New Year!

Two down, eight to go!

2010-12-17T10:55:00.000-08:00

Last Friday marked my the final day of Fall quarter 2010. Although I was only taking one 5 credit class online (American Literature-yawn.) it felt like a full load. If it was just me as a 19 year old college student there would have been no excuses or whining. But add a 15 hour-a-week job and a very active family and now you know why I've only been on here a handful of visits.

But.........I reluctantly peeked at the online learning board for one last time before I closed up shop and I couldn't believe my eyes. The grade for my final paper: 100%!!! I about fell out of my chair. Yes, I worked very hard and stressed out and yelled and screamed at every member of my family and cried about what a mistake I made trying to fit it all in but I certainly wasn't expecting that as a result. Wow. In my entire college career this has NEVER happened to me. I've had some low to mid 90 scores here and there but 100? Like I said: never.

As much as I'd like to give myself credit I do have to say that this time around I find the instructors go a little easier on their students. I know I'm much more focused than 20 years ago but I still don't think I'm doing that caliber of work. In the late 80's most of my professors were born in the 30's and 40's and their style reflected their hard core work ethic. Not that anything is wrong with high expectations but their demands were a little unrealistic. Most of my peers agree that no matter whether you were taking a 5 credit or 3 credit class, they wanted you to treat it as if it was your only one. As I noticed this summer, today's educators are a little more reasonable and realistic. They accept the fact that you have a lot more on your plate than just their class and make amends to the syllabus to reflect that. It could also be that I went summer quarter--which is always more laid back-- and now I'm at a community college where 90% of the students are commuters and part or full-time workers.

Whatever the reason is, I'll take the "A".

Ian's hitting his stride--so to speak

2010-12-01T21:56:00.000-08:00

Back when my middle son was 3 years old, my wise next-door-neighbor lady always referred to him as "the cat that walks alone." That pretty much summed up Ian. He did his own thing. Marched to his own drum. Wrote his own rules. He was stubborn as all get out but so tender and lovable all at the same time. As a non-conforming kind of personality I was always a bit concerned especially in regard to school and the social life accompanying it. Overall, he did fine but just average. Average was okay but I knew there was more inside his quiet little soul if he could just find his niche. Little did I know that the introduction of middle school would awaken the sleeping giant.

In the last 90 days I have seen this kid absolutely blossom. The first day of sixth grade was disastrous but day two brought a newfound confidence to take the bull by the horns and seek help from his teachers. He found favor with his science/math teacher when he learned of their shared love of mountain biking. A month later we had to give permission for the school psychologist to re-test him for some individual learning help that began in third grade. After the test, the gentleman called me and our conversation was music to my ears. He concluded that Ian had no need for extra help and was floored that he ever made it into that category. His exact words were: "you have a well put together kid. He's confident, athletic, handsome and is charming the socks off his teachers." At his conference last month, his social studies/language arts teacher's comment was: "I know you think we say this about every student but I really don't. This kid has character and is a true gentleman." Not words you normally hear from a public school teacher. My heart leapt and I wanted to hug the man. Nothing's more endearing than hearing someone praise and love your child.

The "coup de gras" , however, was when he got "recruited" for a cross country team by a substitute P.E. teacher. Ian called me from school that day and left this message: "We ran the mile in P.E. today and we had a sub and she thought I was really good and she wants me to be on their cross country team. We can talk about it later but I just wanted to tell you." When I spoke to the lady that afternoon she said: "I just saw a confidence and a maturity in him and knew he'd be an asset to the team." Ian started running with them 3 days a week and next thing we knew he was in Seattle qualifying for regionals. The following weekend he went to Portland for the meet and the top 20 finishers in each age group would be going to Alabama for nationals. You guessed it. Mr. Ian placed 8th and he'll be on a plane in one week heading southeast to run his little legs off.

If you know me very well then you also know that I hesitate to say much that could be construed as bragging. But this current chain of events called for a special post. Thanks for indulging me.

Halloween and other Fall happenings

2010-11-15T20:17:00.000-08:00

Ben celebrating his birthday at a Seattle Sounders game

So tired but so happy. Sounders won.

Getting crazy with all the crazy fans.

Birthday celebration doing what I love: playing games

Playing Taboo and trying to get Sheri to guess "Rigor Mortis"

They didn't get it & Kim is making sure they know they're losing

Amber has to make sure we're not cheating since we're kicking their butts.

What a great little gift for this Scrabble lover.

Ben was the only one I could get to carve pumpkins with me

Quinn just couldn't resist joining in on the fun but no cute pumpkins would be carved by him.

Ben's family birthday celebration

My cute pumpkin on the right is scared of Quinn's gross one on the left.

Somehow three cute white blondies trying to be thugs just wasn't working for me.

Okay, now they're scary.

Beckham & Posh ( I needed to lose another 30 pounds to even remotely resemble her)

The Scot & the Brit

Scary was in this year.

My husband is under there somewhere.

I like the cowboy clown a bit better.

There's one way I can be taller--a two feet tall wig.

Ian's first cross country meet. He placed fifth in his age group so off to Portland next weekend for Regionals.

My beautiful cousins Natalie, Michelle & Ashley

Ian wants his new baby cousin to be a Braves fan

Natalie, baby & Aunt Judy (my mom)

Another "Ben-ism"

2010-11-10T22:58:00.000-08:00

Just a few days after Ben's birthday post, in which I shared some of my most favorite quips from him, he added another one to the record books. I couldn't wait until next year's birthday to share it.

On the way to school last Monday, he commented that his music teacher often uses the word "retard". I found out later what he was referring to was the term "ritard" which means to slow down the tempo of your music. After I questioned him, he insisted she let them say this word too. He then paused and said, "Hmmph.... a Christian school and you can say "retard" AND
"hell".

Oh Ben, you bring such comic relief to my days. Big smile.

Ben's last year in the single digits

2010-10-28T04:00:00.000-07:00

It's so hard to believe that our baby boy is inching closer to the double digits. This little guy made our family complete 9 years ago and daily he continues to infuse joy and laughter into our home. He has such a way of bringing a smile to your face with his impish grin and silly sense of humor. In fact, this year I kept track of a few quotes that came out of his mouth during the last few months. They still make me chuckle as I read them.

Back in February I gave his oldest brother permission to walk to a birthday party with another girl from his class. When Ben got word of this, he looked at me incredulously and asked: "Are you okay with that???"

After a day trip to Vancouver, B.C., we stopped in at Costco. While in line I handed him a $10 Canadian bill to get smoothies at the snack bar. His eyes got real big and he asked: "You can use Canada money here????" As if we were committing a crime.

Recently I was preparing to make pancakes and plugged the griddle in on the kitchen island. He was sitting on the barstool watching and said: "Wow, I didn't know electricity could do so many nice things for us."

This is my all-time favorite: Quinn had started to like a classmate and was downstairs asking my husband to reiterate our dating rules. Ben and I were hanging out in my room when Ian came up to inform me that 'Quinn was trying to talk Dad out of the not dating until 16 rule' when Ben chimed in: "I'm so glad you guys made the rule to be 16 to date cause then I'll be driving. I wouldn't want my mom and dad to have to drive us and my girlfriend think I'm a total loser!"

Sweet Ben, I love you to pieces and wish you another wonderful year experiencing all the joy you bring to others!!

43 Ain't So Bad

2010-10-24T21:21:00.001-07:00

I got a text from a friend tonight asking how my birthday was. My response? "It was perfect." It really was. Filled with all the things I love: football, flowers, friends, family and food and fun. It couldn't get any better than this. Well maybe if all of the above happened on an island in Hawaii.....I'm just sayin'...

This year's birthday fell on a Saturday. The first Saturday of the season in which all three boys' games were in town-- and the times did not conflict. My mom, Auntie Carolyn (mom's BFF), my sister, brother-in-law and nephew all came up from Seattle to see the boys play and celebrate our October birthdays.

The first match-up began @ 9:00 a.m. on the big city football field. Ian did not disappoint. With three minutes left in the game, while trailing by 7, all 79 pounds of him broke away and ran 25 yards for a touchdown. Obviously I was too excited to get a photo. Unfortunately the extra point (that he was attempting) resulted in a blocked kick and that was the end. A tough loss but we all enjoyed his shining moment.

Next stop: Ben's game @ 10:30. Ben was on the sidelines sulking as we arrived. When I inquired about the tears, he divulged he was mad at the coach: "Dad". Apparently this tough coach calls all the hard plays when Ben is QB. After halftime he channeled his anger into a show off moment for his proud extended family. Again, I was too excited to snap a picture.

We came back to the house for a delicious lunch of Round Table pizza and Dairy Queen Blizzard cakes and we were off again to stop #3: Quinn's soccer game. I'm sure he felt the pressure to perform after his brother's command performances ( no competition around these parts) but it just didn't happen. They ended up with a 1-1 tie which is better than they've fared most of the season. We said goodbye to everyone and ended the evening with a delicious dinner out with my sweet husband. (We were home by 9:30 and asleep by 9:45. ) The wish of feeling younger doesn't appear to be panning out.

Not enough room on Dana's cake for all those candles so we'll stick them on Ben's.

Make a wish!

Still smiling after the game

All the October birthdays together

All My Boys

2010-10-17T12:29:00.001-07:00

Last month we did our 'every other year' family photos. Now that I look at them I have another dilemma: time to change the colors on the blog. Darn.

Until I figure out how to do that, I thought I'd share my faves. Such darling subjects if I might say so myself.

The Anti-Boy Bias

2010-10-04T18:08:00.000-07:00

From the time I gave birth to my first son, I quickly learned that I was proliferating the less-preferred gender. Rarely has a week gone by since then that I haven't been reminded of society's bias toward testosterone and those who are full of it. After my second son was born, someone commented to me: "you had the wrong baby". Following the ultrasound, where we discovered we were having boy #3, the typical response I heard was "Awwwww." As in: "you poor thing."

Of course I wanted to have the experience of raising a daughter. As a little girl, I used to play with my doll and daydream of my future with a house full of sugar and spice and everything nice. As a young adult, I warmed up to the idea of "one of each" or maybe "two of each". Instead, I got "three of one." Not once have I ever doubted that God knew exactly what he was doing in charging me with the responsibility of raising young men. But I have to admit that sometimes the anti-boy sentiment can be a little much. And it's so accepted. Especially in the school system.

Consider this: At our first back-to-school night's this year, the staff was being introduced to the audience of parents. As the woman at the microphone went down the list, she made sure to point out that one class of 18 had 13 boys. "And won't that teacher need to have a lot of patience?!," she said as the crowd burst into laughter.
Last week we went to a middle school open house. We arrived late and the parents had already been dismissed to visit their student's classrooms. The only authoritative- looking person I saw was at a PTA volunteer sign-up table. When I questioned where we were to go, she said: "Well if you have a girl then I'm sure she brought her schedule home for you. But if you have a boy, then you probably need to go in the office and get his." What??? Even if it is true, why is it necessary to make such statements?

I don't want to sound like "sour grapes" because, quite honestly, I had the same attitude before I became a mother of sons. I grew up in a female dominated family and spent a lot of time with my sister and girl cousins. Our neighborhood had a 5 to 1 male to female ratio and all outdoor play was dominated by any activity ending in "ball". The boys always got their way. I babysat a lot of boys but all that did was reinforce my desire for an overdose of pink. Yet, based on my own parenting experience, I have found many reasons to celebrate the differences between boys and girls. I just wish others could do the same.

To make sure this wasn't just me having a little pity party, I did some research into the anti-boy bias of which I'm speaking and found a few books written on the subject. Two authors that I stumbled upon both identified the school system as having the biggest influence on this attitude. Funny how this is where I've felt the bias the most. In her book Save the Males: Why Men Matter. Why Women Should Care, Kathleen Parker states: "Fourteen years isn’t long to roam the earth, but boys learn early that they belong to the “bad” sex and their female counterparts to the “good.” For many, their indoctrination starts the moment they begin school and observe that teachers (who are, for the most part, females) prefer less rambunctious girl behavior."

In Bringing Up Boys, Dr. James Dobson says: "Almost every authority on child development recognizes that schools are typically not set up to accommodate the unique needs of boys. Elementary classrooms, especially, are designed primarily by women to fit the temperament and learning styles of girls." In Dobson's book he quotes psychologist Michael Thompson, author of Raising Cain: Protecting the Emotional Life of Boys. Thompson expresses his concern about how boys are being treated in the classroom. He said, "Boys feel like school is a game rigged against them. The things which they excel--gross motor skills, visual and spacial skills, their exuberance--do not find as good a reception in school."

So maybe it's just not me. I am the first to admit that boys can be more challenging to raise--and teach. But that doesn't automatically mean girls are superior. We are all created equal. Just not the same. Now wouldn't that be a good lesson to include in the textbooks?

Dear Charlotte: your spell over me has ended

2010-09-19T01:00:00.000-07:00

When we moved back to the Northwest almost 10 years ago, I left Charlotte, North Carolina kicking and screaming. We had started our family, made good friends, were involved in a great church and lived in a desirable neighborhood. We were settled. Going back to where I went to college was never on the radar. I did not have a stellar university experience and returning to a place of many unpleasant memories never made it to the top of my goal sheet. God clearly had other plans.

In September 2000, we were visiting family and friends here when we bumped into a former colleague of mine from Charlotte. My husband had been unexpectedly removed from his partnership two weeks earlier, but moving away wasn't even a consideration. As we caught up with Jim, and he handed Trey his card with the words "shoot me your resume", I knew in my heart it was a done deal. Three weeks later Trey had a job offer in hand and we relocated before we knew what hit us.

The story went from bad to worse within days of arriving here but I won't get into the details. The first year back on the west coast was pretty miserable. Everyone expected me to be so glad I was "back home". Only the problem was I considered Charlotte my home. I couldn't tell anyone I longed to return to the southeast lest they be offended at their own choices to live here. I was lonely and sad and refused to even look for an ounce of good in my circumstances. As time went on and several job changes and moves ensued I believed that this town was cursed--or we were. As I matured and grew in my walk with God I learned to find contentment and peace in the here and now. I could not deny this was His plan to move us here but that didn't mean I couldn't plan my escape. And I did. In my mind.

As we endured dark, dreary winter after winter, and watched the cost of housing skyrocket, I questioned God's wisdom in putting us somewhere that would wreak havoc on my husband's career and confidence. Somewhere that was not conducive to raising three "outdoor" boys. Somewhere that the culture is juxtaposed to our values. Somewhere that has more espresso stands on every street corner instead of churches. I constantly compared what our life could be like if we lived somewhere that had nice weather for most of the year, we could buy a house on one income and we'd reside in a "red state" not a blue one.

Last month when the boys and I returned to our former "stomping ground" I knew, within two hours, that this was no longer the place for us. It was wonderful to see our friends and show the kids our old house but that's where it ended. I realized that Charlotte hadn't changed. But I had. Everyone has big, beautiful homes, stable careers and all the other luxuries I've had to sacrifice for the last decade. All the things I've pined away for since leaving in January 2001. And yet as I left there it dawned on me that God knew exactly what He was doing--and then some. If we had stayed there, and everything had gone our way, those items I previously mentioned would be controlling my world. I know how I am.

Although this town has not been lucrative for Trey's career, we use our umbrellas more than our sunglasses, we'll probably be renting for the foreseeable future, and we have had more downs than ups, I would not trade it for all that Charlotte has to offer. We would not have the rich family life, close friendships and walk with God we enjoy today if my plan had panned out. I can see now that God was protecting us from ourselves. And we are right where we need to be. Home Sweet Home.

School(s)

2010-09-19T00:29:00.000-07:00

It's been 12 days since the school year began and, thankfully, we seem to be on the other side of the adjustment period. At the end of week one I started to fret about my own upcoming school year. Originally I registered for one 5 credit class online and one 5 credit class on campus. The plan was to attend class MWF and work on Tuesday and Thursday. Two weeks ago I learned that I do not qualify for financial aid--of any kind. I hoped that once I was officially admitted to a "higher learning institution", and I submitted our (pathetic) 2009 tax return, that the rest would be history. Apparently not. That would be too easy. Because I am not following a traditional course of action, i.e.: pursuing an AA or other "approved" program that even a student loan was not an option. Sigh.

I find it quite ironic that I worked all the way through pursuing my Bachelor's, stayed home for most of the last 13 years and am now back in the workforce again as I return to school. When I went back to work it was simply to help with the increasing grocery bill and never-ending sports' costs. Little did I know that the day I started this job I would also be applying to the college of education. I added some more hours this summer (bad idea) to cover tuition. As I looked at the cost of 10 credits, the boys' sports schedule and my work schedule I knew something had to give. My dear friend Julie asked me "what's the hurry? The important part is that you are pursuing your dream. There doesn't need to be a timeline on this." Such profound words and yet so simple. Why was I putting this pressure on myself to get out in a certain period of time? Those voices from 20 years ago have been haunting me since I started down this path. I am not 20 years old. My parents are not footing the bill. I know what I want but I also have a family who needs me to be present during this season. And the reality is that I can't earn enough part-time to cover a full load the next two quarters.

I knew what I needed to do. I went to the computer, logged on to the college's website and deleted the on-campus class. Immediately, a weight lifted off my shoulders and peace flooded my heart. Julie is right. I don't need to be in a hurry. But I do need to keep the momentum of my summer quarter success (I got an "A"!) and not be distracted by all the responsibilities--both real and self-imposed.

Here's to Fall quarter 2010.

Little boys do grow up

2010-09-15T06:00:00.000-07:00

Twelve years ago today at 3:43 p.m. Eastern Standard Time, another bouncing baby boy joined our family. This boy is well on his way to becoming a fine young man--and one I am totally crazy about. He brings stability, common sense and adventure to all he does and his exuberance for life and crazy independent streak make him one in a million.

I am so glad chose me to be your mom, Ian Joseph. It's a privilege and a true joy.

Happy 12th birthday, son! I love you tons and can't wait to celebrate another year of the gift of you.

A week I'd like to not repeat

2010-09-12T21:40:00.000-07:00

The 2010-11 school year began on Tuesday with much anticipation and trepidation. As is typically the case this time of year, everyone is ready to get back to routine and schedules--especially Mom. This particular September I wasn't as anxious for them to go. Working and going to school this summer did not leave a lot of quality time for us and I didn't get much of a chance to be tired of them. Although they were certainly tired of each other. Plus there were so many changes ahead for everyone. Three kids in three different schools all over town was not the original plan. Last year's middle school fire and Ben's crummy experience at the public elementary school changed that scenario for us. Quinn's class is at a middle school 20 minutes south of us which involves 45 minutes of bus rides each way. Ian's class is at an elementary school 15 minutes east which also involves two bus trips 0r mom driving her non-morning kid. Ben moved to our local Christian school which offers no bus and the mornings are too unpredictable for so many families that a carpool was not an option. Afternoons are a different story, thankfully.

As it turns out, the child I was worried about the most is the happiest and the one I was worried about the least is the most miserable. Quinn has a great group of teachers but no friends in his classes. (we all know how devastating that is to a 13 yr. old) The one teacher I thought Ian would love is "boring and too old" and the pace of middle school math brought him to tears as he tried to share about his day. Ben expressed displeasure all summer about having to change schools and this is the kid who has been grinning from ear to ear all week! Because the school is so small, and has no cafeteria, the students have lunch in their classrooms. Not realizing the reasons why, Ben thinks this is a total perk. "Guess what! We GET TO eat at our desks!" were the first words out of his mouth. Ahhh. At least someone is happy.

By Friday I was wiped out and questioning my wisdom. Should I homeschool Ian? Should we move Quinn to Ben's school? Is anyone ever going to be happy around here? Maybe I should put my own school plans on the backburner until things calm down and everyone's adjusted? Last night I picked up the week's mail and I saw an envelope with a stamp on it. That usually means it's not a bill but instead something happy. Boy did I need "happy". Inside was the sweetest card from my mother-in-law with words that were a gift straight from Heaven. The outside read: "There is simply nothing else in the world more valuable than what you do every day as a mom. Inside it said: "You're doing beautifully--I pray He continues to bless you with wisdom and love." She signed it: "thinking of you and knowing God is pleased. I love you!"

Here's to week 2!

Ian (6th grade) and Ben (3rd grade)

Quinn (8th grade)

Boys' Only Weekend

2010-09-06T19:59:00.001-07:00

Ahhhh....Labor Day Weekend. The holiday weekend I look forward to every year. All four of my boys take off on their "boys only" adventure of which I am not invited. It's one invitation list I am happy to be omitted from. Waking up with no agenda. Cleaning the house and having it stay clean. Nothing required of me for 4 whole days. I can't think of a more fitting way to end the summer and begin the school year.

Tonight when I downloaded the pictures from the camera, I was anticipating snapshots of their mountain biking adventure. Apparently they were having too much fun trying to keep up with each other on the trails to stop and take a silly picture or two. Instead there were only 8 shots and half of them were of Quinn & Ian hoisting Ben up into the nets reserved for keeping food away from the bears in the campground. Clearly this was a highlight. Ben, you are such a good sport.

Are these some colorful clothes (and priceless expressions) or what?

Too cool for words.

Will they let him down?

According to everyone, "Ben really liked this."

A river that literally disappeared into a mysterious hole. Hmmmm.

Days 6-8 Fun in the sun at Camp Erickson

2010-08-24T16:34:00.000-07:00

Our last 3 days at Camp Erickson were filled with fun, sun and water galore not to mention amazing meals, wonderful conversation and lots of laughter. We are so thankful to our Camp Directors who gave us an unforgettable experience.

My sweet, fun-loving cuz

After playing many rounds of Aggravation we decided it was aggravating

The outdoor pool at the fitness center. The indoors were just as amazing

Last night with the Camp Director Todd

Natalie wanted to be the "director" but Todd didn't look so good in pink

Fun with my boys

The inaguaral week of Camp Erickson

Ben loves his cousin!

Fun at Lake Altoona with their neighbor Savannah. How convenient she was Ian's age and super fun. Ian was quite smitten. Mom approves.

Ben and the Camp Director

Day 5- Back to Atlanta

2010-08-20T20:59:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning we reluctantly packed up and left Hotel Pomilla for our 4 1/2 hour drive back to Natalie & Todd's. We made one pit stop in Greenville (halfway between Charlotte & Atlanta) to see an old playgroup friend and a dinner stop at none other than Chick-fil-A. After a grueling day on the road we pulled in to "Hotel Erickson" at 8:00 only to be greeted by warm hugs in the driveway and "We're so glad you're back!" from our hosts. Ahhhh. It was so good to be back "home".

This picture was supposed to be at the end-oops!

$1.00 Nutty Buddy's and padded pool. Ben was obviously crazy about this place.

One last visit with Auntie Katherine and baby Cooper.

Charlotte- Days 3 & 4

2010-08-20T20:43:00.001-07:00

On our first night in Georgia, Camp Erickson had been transformed into "Hotel Erickson." Todd & Natalie welcomed some good friends from their former home in Boulder to stay the next three nights. We decided this would be a good time to get Ian out of their hair and head up to Charlotte for a couple days. Being that it was our home almost 10 years ago, there was a huge part of me that desired to return to our old neighborhood and re-live those fond memories. We stayed with our good friends, the Pomillas, their sweet daughters and obnoxious dog. (she refers to him this way so it's okay that I did) They were fantastic hosts and the kids got along famously. Charlotte, on the other hand, has definitely lost its mystique for me. More on that later.

Had to take the usual boy pit stop

Our home where I brought home my first two babies. It looked much better when we owned it.

Ian giving Auntie Lisa a tutorial on Facebook. She still won't join.

Could these two look anymore unrelated?

I love this family!!

Hotlanta-Days 1 & 2

2010-08-20T20:26:00.000-07:00

After a long, boring, first six weeks of summer, our family flew into high gear when August hit. After much anticipation four of the five of us set off on some adventures of our own starting with Ian boarding his first solo flight to Atlanta, Georgia. My cousin and her husband relocated there a couple years ago and they are among some of our favorite people in the world--and Ian in particular is especially fond of them. We searched high and low for a summer camp that would coincide with Ben's stint at Camp Firwood and speak to Ian's love of mountain biking. No such luck. Instead, he opted for "Camp Erickson". At this "camp" this middle child had the luxury of being the center of attention for an entire week. A Braves game, lazy days at the pool and waterslides and a new "friendship" with a fellow 11-year-old southern belle were some of his camp highlights. Then Ben and I had to arrive and bring a dose of reality.

After a red-eye flight in which only one party slept (guess who) we were greeted by Natalie's beautiful smile at 7:00 a.m. We arrived back at their house in Woodstock and attempted to stay awake for the remainder of the day. The next morning, Mimi pulled in to their driveway and took us on a day of adventure through Atlanta. Being that she went to high school here and met Papa Jim at Georgia Tech, this town holds a special place in her heart. She treated us to a day at the Atlanta Aquarium (incredible), the Coca-Cola museum, Georgia Tech's campus and dinner at "The Varsity" complete with their world famous onion rings. It was a fabulous day.

Fries and chocolate milkshakes in the ESPN room.

With the Coca Cola polar bear. He would have melted in that 98 degree heat

The entrance to the Atlanta Aquarium

Welcome to Georgia!

Ben's next rite of passage

2010-08-07T21:18:00.000-07:00

Earlier this year Ben began the journey of losing teeth. Something I billed as his first rite of passage. Last Sunday he embarked on R.O. P. #2: sleep-away camp. The summer prior to entering 3rd grade is the age when kids can attend junior camp at Camp Firwood. You're dropped off on a Sunday afternoon and have no contact with the outside world for 7 whole days.
Hard to believe but this was Ben's year. It's funny how when his older brothers went, at the same age, it seemed perfectly appropriate. Yet, when we went to leave this time he seemed sooooo young and little and naive and, and, and......

Yet, it was clear I had nothing to fear. He jumped right in the water, passed the swim test, met his counselor, picked his bunk and waved us goodbye. I did get a message from my friend Val, (her hubby is the camp director) that said "I have a couple of sightings a day of a little blonde blur whirling past." The camp does post daily pictures on their website but I only saw one which tells me that the "blonde blur" didn't stop much to have his photo taken.

Right after the swim test

With his counselor "Voonderking"

His "home" for the next 7 days.

In his words: "the top bunk is the best!"

The Jar

2010-08-07T13:01:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, August 1st marked 18 years since we said "I Do". Instead of spending the day in some romantic fashion instead we were shuttling kids to camps and airports. This was bit of a celebration in itself but we were looking forward to a real (belated) celebration later in the week once the kiddos were all gone.

Quite a few years ago we started a tradition of putting our loose coins in a jar. The jar has sat perched on the top of Trey's dresser for as long as I can remember. Every year, on the day before our anniversary, I take the jar and gleefully dump it in the coin counting machine at the bank. (Everyone standing in the teller line just loves this ruckus) We then use that money for our official celebration. Sometimes it's only been enough for a shared dessert and cup of coffee. One year it it covered an entire weekend away--including lodging and meals! Yes, that was a good year. Despite the actual amount, it's a tradition I look forward to every August 1st.

This year, in addition to the coins, we got a monetary gift from some parents who shall remain nameless. The combination of this, all the kids being gone, and a midweek special at a local resort, we celebrated in style.

Appetizers in the room

When the front desk heard it was our anniversary, they upgraded us to a waterview room.

Smiling over our 18 years of wedded bliss.

2010-07-28T00:33:00.000-07:00

Backcountry. It's not a word I've ever been too familiar with until my better half found the wilderness and discovered a passion for it like never before. I knew that "back country" meant some type of a long, arduous hike. What I didn't know was that the destination was sleeping on the ground at the end of the night. After hiking all day. With 1/3 your body weight on your back. Knowing it feeds his soul and knowing that our family was in desperate need to unplug we set out for a "mom's trial run" back country trip. Saturday morning to Sunday evening was all I could spare but we were determined to make it work.

I recently mentioned my disdain for all the work associated with car camping: recreating your kitchen on a dirt floor with a picnic table; making portable bedrooms in the form of a tent and hoping you have enough marshmallows, graham crackers and Hershey bars to last a minimum of one night. A fellow mom of three boys and Boy Scout Den leader told me "I look at it this way. You can go full board with an RV or go the opposite extreme and back country. Car camping was too much in the middle which was what contributed to it becoming a nuisance. Too much work because 'you might just be able to fit that in'. She recommended a back country hike that ended up in a spectacular destination accessible only by hiking it in. And I mean hiking every last bit of food, cooking items, tents, sleeping bags, sleeping bad and food for the next 2 or 3 days. All of this would be on my back??? The general rule is 25 lbs. or 1/4 your weight. I decided 100 lbs. would be close enough to my actual number on the scale so I called that bag and never looked back. I didn't want to chicken out by really thinking through this or anything crazy like that.

Saturday morning we hit the road at 8:30 a.m. and two hours later were at the Ranger station to hopefully get a backcountry permit. Trey was concerned they'd be sold out and we'd have to go elsewhere. Not a problem. No charge. This trip was starting out just fine. An hour later we were at the Ross Lake Dam trailhead parking lot.

So the hike in was just fine. A little longer than anticipated after we saw the sign indicating we were only a the halfway point when we thought we'd already gone long enough. That part was a little disconcerting. We powered on and about 2 hours later paradise was starting right back at us. This place was absolutely stunning. As you can see in the pictures, it was worth the hike. The return was a little more challenging but I'm not going to waste any space on that part of the story.

This represents everything we would need for the next 24 hours. Really.

Ready to go. Not knowing a 4-hour hike is ahead.

Almost halfway.

Ahhhhh...we've arrived.

Some fishing at dusk. Others in the campground came to this dock on fishing boats--along with their coolers and other necessities. We were a little jealous.

Cooling off and resting on our personal rock.

Our campsite from the lake's point of view.

We brought some rope along in the hopes of doing this.

One last look behind us as we leave.

Grease is the Word

2010-07-18T00:47:00.001-07:00

Just in case you were wondering, "Grease" is the best movie ever made. Ever. There has never been a better movie before it. There has not been a better movie since. And there never will be. I have watched it at least once a year since it came out on DVD. I saw it on Broadway. I faithfully watched the reality show a couple years ago where they searched for the next Danny & Sandy to star in the Broadway revival. Believe me, if I could carry a tune and/or dance and subtract 15 years off my age, I would have been camped out in New York City waiting for my turn to wow the judges. My girlfriends knew what a nut I was about it that they threw me a Grease themed fortieth birthday party.

So back in May when I first heard about the "Grease Sing-Along" coming to select theaters this summer, I immediately contacted my high school BFF (she might love it even more than me --if that's possible) and we secured our tickets for last weekend's screening. We had the time of our lives. We did the second showing at 9:45 and the theater was only 1/4 full. It didn't matter to us. We belted our hearts out along with Danny, Sandy, the T-Birds, the Pink Ladies and the single guy (who had to be a closet "Grease" fan sitting at the end of our row. ) I'm telling ya, I was born in the wrong decade. Long live Rydell!

Teri and her sister, Needa.

Lacey and I donned our best Pink Ladies outfits. There's a story behind those scarfs.

We tried to get the manager to let us have this cardboard cut out but he was adamant that 3 others before us requested it. In retaliation, we made him take about 20 pictures of us in various poses. He still wouldn't budge.

We won the "best dressed costume contest" and got these lovely t-shirts. Never mind that we had virtually no competition.

Oh Danny!

Two down, four to go

2010-07-05T22:23:00.000-07:00

I know that times flies even faster as we get older but I just can't fathom that one-third of my first quarter is already behind me. So far so good. I barely slept a wink the night before, got to campus 45 minutes before class started, the meters were out of order at the first parking lot and the meters were only taking cash at the second parking lot (I had spent my last $1.50 on coffee) At this point it was 7:47 so I parked on the street and hoofed it to campus and, of course, my class was on the fourth floor of the building. I sat down at the desk promptly at 8:05. Based on the professor's welcoming smile and quick forgiveness of my apology I breathed a sigh of relief. As I listened to her read the syllabus and witnessed her easy going nature I determined this was the perfect scenario for "getting my feet wet".

There are 10 of us and I am much closer to professor's age than that of my classmates. I expected that but actually sitting in the classroom and looking around was quite sobering. Surprisingly, I have felt quite comfortable and freely participate in class discussions without feeling like a complete idiot. In fact I discovered that this girl still has some smarts......here is my first assignment below. I know I'm a total dork to post this but you have to understand that I only saw this particular grade TWICE in my entire college career. More on that later. Oh, the mid-term is take home and the final is OPEN BOOK. I think I'm going to like this "going back to school thing."

What a difference a year makes

2010-07-01T14:46:00.000-07:00

Yesterday the boys went in for their annual dental check-ups--an event that feels like "pulling teeth". (pun intended) I know the recommended schedule is bi-yearly but a lack of insurance put this on the back burner. In spite of the 15 months since their last visit, we were pleasantly surprised to hear " NO CAVITIES". However, we did hear: "time for a consult with the orthodontist." Cha-ching.

Ths is all beside the point of this post. The pediatric dentist we see always takes a picture of her patients at their cleanings and returns the previous year's photo to the child. Being that this was the first year so much time had lapsed between their visits, I was amazed at the difference in all of them. So I just had to share the respective snapshots.

This is now. Below is "then".

Those teeth that are missing are now in and this is the one being referred to an orthodontist for an overbite. He looks fine to me.

This was the first visit ever with no follow up appointments needed for this guy.

Four teeth have disappeared since this photo was snapped.

Everyone's home for summer but Mom

2010-06-21T22:17:00.000-07:00

Twenty years ago today I was laying out my 90's power suit and packing my lunch in preparation for my first day of work--at a bonafide "real job." Having just graduated from college a few days earlier, I was ready to take the world by storm and climb the corporate ladder. Little did I know that, at the age of 42, I would be returning to the same campus I had left in June of 1990. "Never say never" has never been more true than now.

Although I've had to jump through about a million hoops, and listen to a handful of naysayers on the sidelines, I am officially enrolled for summer quarter at Western Washington University. Aside from my husband's marriage proposal, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Let it be said that I'm not under the illusion that this will be a bump-free ride. Yes, I know that there are no jobs out there right now. Yes, I know that middle schoolers are the most challenging age group. Yes, I know that "summers off" doesn't necessarily equate to "summers off". Yes, I know that I will be one day working for close to minimum wage. I am well aware of the reality that I most likely will be mistaken for a professor than a student more often than not and there's still a very real chance that I maynot be admitted into the college of education. But what I know most of all is that God wastes NOTHING. No experiences great or small occur without first being sifted through His hands. I believe He has directed every step of this journey and has said "This is the way. Now walk in it." Nervous? Yes. Excited? Yes. Fearful? NO!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go shop for a new backpack.

What a week!

2010-06-18T08:56:00.000-07:00

Every day I've been thinking "I need to get on here and post" but so much has happened that I thought I'd save it for one fell swoop. The end of the school year holds so many rites of passage and celebrations whether you're graduating from high school, middle school or elementary. This year we had a fifth grader moving on to middle school which was the biggest celebration of all. Added in there was a cast FINALLY being removed and a seventh graders in charge of a carnival. (when you see the pictures, you'll understand why that can be a scary prospect).

So ready.

Finally!!

The calm before the storm.

Argh! Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Their favorite teacher, Mr. Owens, bought the last pie.

They auctioned off the cherry pie and Sammy was the highest bidder. She thoroughly enjoyed her victory.

Ian's teacher was such a good sport at the fifth grade picnic. This was the culmination of the relay race to put spaghetti in her hair.

Part of the winning class.

Hooray for Ian

2010-06-06T18:25:00.000-07:00

I've never been much of a bragger. And I'm quite turned off by those who make a regular habit of boasting. However, a couple of the most current events in our household have earned my middle guy some bragging rights. But since he doesn't have a blog of his own, I've been given permission to share his recent historic moments with you.

Now, mind you that I feel a bit awkward about devoting an entire post to what could be construed as arrogant. But, because both events of which I am about to share involved more participants than just my son, I'm a little more at ease about the whole thing. Credit should be given where credit is due, right?

Saturday, May 22: As I posted last year, Ian and 5 of his classmates participated in our local Ski to Sea Junior race as the "Pink Paparazzi" and took home the first place trophy for the elementary division. This year their same team with a different name--"LemonLime" set out to defend their title. With a time of 25:34, they not only clinched the title once again but set a record for the best time in the race's history. Ian's grandma was on hand to witness the moment which made the victory even sweeter.

Team LemonLime on the podium (middle)

Ahh...the sweet taste of victory.

Thursday, June 3rd: Our school district holds a track meet every spring where the fifth graders from all 10 elementary schools come to compete. It's one of those important rites of passage for the students before heading off to middle school. And one that Ian had been looking forward to all year. The kids' respective P.E. teachers assign them two events in which to participate. The 800m and 4 x 100m relay were Ian's. Like any of us, Ian loves to win but he much prefers challenging himself than having anyone else pushing him. For the previous two weeks, he had Ben timing him as he ran the 3.5 times around our cul-de-sac most every night but spoke very little to the rest of us about his time or his anxiety about the whole thing. The boys' 800m was the third event and though he gave it his all, he lost by 2/10 of a second. But who better to lose to than one of your teammates from last month's Ski to Sea race? All was not lost though as their relay team rocked the race and took home first. Way to go, boys!

Lining up for the 800 meter race

The race to the finish. Tyler (in blue) pulled it out and took first.

I wish it wasn't under these circumstances.....

2010-05-20T22:43:00.000-07:00

...isnt' that what we always say when we see someone from long ago at a funeral? Last week I had the sad but fortunate experience to pay tribute to one of my favorite childhood friends. Loretta and I met in Sister Kathleen's first grade class at St. Vincent de Paul elementary school. Her last name started with "M" and mine followed with "N" so she had to endure me as a seat mate for 9 months. As we begin our school career, we don't have enough life savvy to choose our friends--which can be a good thing. By middle school we become more choosy and particular about with whom we spend our time. Chances are that maybe one or two of our classmates will remain our friends throughout life. (A lesson I keep trying to remind my teenager of) Loretta was one of those friends who was in my circle all the way to high school graduation.

Loretta had an older half sister who didn't live with her so she was essentially an only child. The kind of friend everyone with multiple siblings needs. I have wonderful memories of camping with her family, belting out hit songs on her stereo with the microphone, slumber parties galore and sneaking out to meet boys--it was always her idea. Smile. We came of age together. I didn't know it back then, and neither did she, but Loretta had Lupus for many years before she was diagnosed. A short time ago she learned she was also suffering from Diabetes. Both diseases took their toll on her and left her susceptible to complications which eventually took her life. As many took their turns at the microphone, the phrase I kept hearing to describe my friend was "unconditional love". She offered it to everyone who crossed her path. As I listened I felt so much regret that the most we'd spoken in the last few years was only by "chat" on Facebook. Yet, I know she didn't expect any more than that for that's who she was. She loved and appreciated everyone and every day.

Sitting in the church and watching most of my former teachers pass by was bittersweet. ( Loretta's mom was my second grade teacher) Afterwards at the luncheon we reminisced about days gone by and laughed until we cried. Three hours later a few of us were still there long after the tables and chairs were loaded in the closets and her family members drove away. Our friend Terri suggested we head over to the school and take a trip down memory lane.

Terri, Laura and walked the halls of the elementary school thirty some years later in search of those indiscreet places where we scrawled our names back in the 70's; we recounted stories of our principal who was more like a dictator and concurred that she was abusive and would have truly been thrown in the slammer for pulling similar acts today. We laughed about writing naughty Mad Libs and then being busted by one of the nuns who threatened to ban us from the coveted sixth grade picnic. (We went) We traded stories about our many antics that none of us had been aware of way back when and asked forgiveness over taunting one another about our tacky shoe choices over the years. (When you wear uniforms everyday), there isn't much else to make fun of. In the moment I just wanted to transport myself back to that place of innocence and pure joy and make time stand still. A time when we were so sheltered the outside world rarely had a chance to harm us. Our parents devoted their lives to protecting our childhood and most parentingvalues lined up with one another's. Although most of us rarely correspond, other than infrequent Facebook posts and now funerals, there is a bond that can never be broken between our classmates. At the milestones of the 10 & 20 year reunions many in attendance there still had axes to grind over inane, immature memories. But once you enter 40 and life seems much more sobering and --we've all had one of those life altering events rear its ugly head and wreak havoc on our lives.Those silly little issues have faded into memories that thankfully don't resurface on occasions such as a memorial service.

Loretta, I am deeply sorry you left us so soon. But you really haven't left because that unconditional love you so freely gave has lived on in the souls of St. Vincent's and the hearts of us all. Rest in Peace, beautiful friend.

Another Rite of Passage

2010-05-18T17:26:00.000-07:00

So last week Ben arrived at one of the big rites of passage by losing both of his two top teeth. Being that it was my "baby" these events always makes me think "this is the last time I'll have this experience." I prefer to chronicle these happy times but every once in a while a not-so-happy one invades your world--just like this past weekend.

Friday night we were able to get all three boys farmed out for sleepovers. A nice dinner on a beautiful spring evening was on the agenda when the front door swings open and Ben walks in holding his wrist and the tears were flowing. His friend's dad relayed the story of him falling off the swing and added "it's probably broken. You should get an x-ray." Being that it wasn't swollen, and being that we're typically in the "it's fine" camp, we gave him a hot bath, some Advil

and a some TLC.

Saturday morning there was no swelling so off he went to his last soccer game. This sealed the deal. An opponent got under his feet and down he went--on the same wrist. When he woke up Sunday morning with major swelling and complaining of pain, we shuttled over to the ER for a look. Three hours later they announced the ARM was broken. Huh? Although he fell on the wrist, it was a buckle fracture of the bone just above it.

Because the ER was so backed up (when is it not???) he was forced to go home with a wrap and a sling and schedule the cast for the following day. I can't recall ever spending two hours in a doctor's office of any variety and having my child in a permanent grin for all 120 minutes. A cast is a big deal when you're 8.

Here's hoping that the hot weather holds off for these next four weeks or the novelty of this lovely blue accessory will be over faster than it happened. Keep smiling, Ben!

Toothless on Top

2010-05-11T07:00:00.000-07:00

Ben has passed the first grade school "rite of passage". Last week he finally lost the second of his two front teeth. He has been a frustrated late bloomer in the dental category--he lost his first tooth almost a year ago and the second one three months later. So it's been a lengthy dry spell for the tooth fairy. She had to make two pit stops here last week, and because of his patience, he had double the usual amount under his pillow. I don't think he has stopped smiling since.

Mother's Day

2010-05-10T15:20:00.000-07:00

Thank you, President Woodrow Wilson for signing the proclamation 1n 1914 officially making the second Sunday in May a day to honor mothers. For the past 13 years it has been my favorite holiday but particularly so once my kids entered preschool and began bringing home all those wonderful works of art stored throughout closets, cedar chests and attics.

In spite of all the many precious gifts my boys have made and given over the years, this was the very first time I was served breakfast in bed. My thoughtful Ian cooked up the idea and the meal itself. He was so darn cute and proud of his accomplishment. His brothers decided he was man enough to handle the task at hand while they snoozed away. (I'm sure they were with us in spirit). Below are some photos of the loot. I purposely did not include myself in them because, although I'm not the most vain woman around, I do draw the line at " bed head", sleep lines and sagging objects. :)

Can you tell who loves to call me "Hope"?

Hubby rocked with the PJ purchase. I wanted to wear them to work today.

Sorry, I couldn't figure out how to rotate this photo. After dinner, when I tried to cash in on Ben's promise of dish duty, he replied: "I meant that I would take them out of the dishwasher. " I guess homemade cards sometimes need disclaimers.

Isn't that sweet? Ben again.

Ian "loves my cooking" which is comical because there isn't much I cook that he likes to eat. Maybe he meant "I like the processed snacks you buy at the store." The necklace he made at school. His teacher is amazing.

After breakfast we went to church then out to a "fancy" lunch at Sonic Drive-In followed by a 3 hour family mountain bike excursion. As the boys were clamoring to hit the jumps and rougher trails, Trey gently reminded them that "this was mom's day." It was the equivalent of still being on training wheels for them but they were good sports. I probably spent more time pushing my bike uphill than actually pedaling but it was a beautiful sunny day and we were all together. After dinner my sweet neighbor brought over a card with a CD of a song by Trace Adkins called , "You're Gonna Miss These Days." How very, very true.

Girls' Beach Weekend

2010-05-05T19:34:00.000-07:00

Even though two of the three of us are "in our 40's" I still love referring to us as "girls." Especially when we get away for a long weekend together. I've been blessed with some pretty amazing female friendships. And this year I've gone a bit overboard with the "girls' weekends." In fact I realized that, so far this year, I've had a getaway every single month. I'm liking this trend.

This past weekend was the longest and most relaxing one so far. We were gone for 4 days and 3 nights to Long Beach, WA. My dear friend Joy's family has a cabin that has been passed down through 3 generations. Over the years it has been updated to accomodate more guests. The rest of my family have been guests down there at least 2 or 3 times but every time I've been invited something has always conspired to sabotage my impending trip. It soon became the big joke that I was the lone friend who " never made it to the cabin." So back in January when Joy suggested she, Kim and I try to get down there in the spring I half-heartedly agreed and figured something would get in the way and we'd laugh about it for another year or two. Not this time. Every little detail lined up and off we went.

Long Beach is known for its cloudy, cool weather and rain was in the forecast. However, the skies never opened on us when we ventured out for a walk on the beach, hitting the trails and--most importantly--shopping. I'm ready to get the next one on the calendar!

Ahhhhhh....we're finally here.

Trying on glasses....Minnie Pearl style.

Beautiful beach.

After our 90 minute walk on the trail.

Classic.

Doing our "re-con" garbage run. It WAS a public trash can after all.

Our great finds from Ambiance and Farmhouse Funk. Yes, it all fit in the minivan.

Happy Birthday to my Maverick Man

2010-04-28T07:17:00.000-07:00

Today marks 42 years since my hubby joined this world. All 5 lb. 12 oz. of him. Since he hates to be fussed over and I'm still trying to lay low since the big 40th surprise bash, I will be brief. The following quote I read at this party two years ago and it will always personify him. Happy Birthday, Honey! Love you long time.

"A man is one who finds his strength and lives it.

Who loves his wife and shows it.

Who would die for his children and they believe it.

Who serves his God and no one doubts it."

Spring Break 2010

2010-04-12T08:22:00.000-07:00

Being that we were just coming off the heels of a dream vacation, we knew this year's Spring Break would never come close to making those kind of memories. However, I knew we had to something. I've had my old/new minivan for two months now and it was begging for a road trip. That and Quinn had a soccer game in Vancouver, Washington.

On Wednesday all three boys and I set out to head from one end of the state to the other. Exit 255 to Exit 7. Knowing that plowing through in one fell swoop would make for a crabby mother and equallyunpleasant children. We broke up the first leg into several little visits along the way. First stop was Grandma's--about two hours away. Exit 143. Our nephew and cousin was on his spring break and my brother stopped in to say hello so we had a house full--which "Ma" loved. Pizza, laughter and noise ensued.

Thursday morning we continued south to Tacoma. Exit 133. My BFF from jr. high and high school is a middle school U.S. History teacher. She has recently inspired me to return to college and get my teaching certificate (this will be the next post). Her spring break had been the previous week so she invited us to come visit her classroom. We stayed for 4th & 5th periods, administered a couple quizzes and watched her in action. Quinn loved "being a student without really being a student", Ian enjoyed sitting alongside Teri and watching for cheaters during the tests and Ben thought it was super grown up and cool to drink Cokes out of her personal fridge while the middle schoolers whined about him not sharing. Just before we went to leave, I turned around to grab my camera and take some pics only to discover one of those middle schoolers had walked off with it. I was disappointed but not half as much as Teri was. She went on the hunt for the thief but returned empty handed. I tried to make light of it by reminding her of all the naughty things we did in 7th and 8th grades but she still felt horrible. I never liked the camera anyway but I was bummed that I wouldn't be able to capture what lay ahead on the rest of our trip. So the pictures that follow were moved from Facebook or other places on my computer. Telling a story involving people just isn't the same without images, is it??

Teri & me hanging out after she stopped by to gloat about her "Devo" concert. Nice hat.

When I visited Teri's classroom a year ago.

Next stop: Vancouver. Exit 7. Last spring I reconnected (via Facebook) with my bible study leader from my junior year of college, ReNai. She was such an inspiration to me and someone who really challenged me in my faith. My favorite memory of her was that she always had her purse-sized bible with her and referred to it all the time. I always wanted to be a woman of deep faith and conviction like her when I grew up. She married her high school sweetheart right after college graduation and they are both teachers in Vancouver. She teaches Kindergarten and he teaches middle school. Is there a theme here???? It was the first time our families had met one another but that didn't matter. Their son is Quinn's age and is wild about sports. Their backyard ended where the elementary school field began. Within minutes the cones and flags were in place and a full-fledged soccer game was taking place. Followed by "bump" on the basketball court and "FIFA soccer" on the Wii. Add ReNai's homemade spaghetti and meatballs and what's not to like? AFter dinner I shared my memory and ReNai broke out that very bible all tattered and torn and well loved. Unfortunately their family was not on spring break so we had to say "goodnight" and "goodbye" that evening. When we left the next day Quinn said, "we should stay here every time we play in Vancouver." I agree, Quinn.

College days: 1989

The lovely Joy family.

Friday: Since we couldn't check in to the hotel until 3, we went just across the bridge into Portland, Oregon. A friend had told me about a decommissioned Navy submarine docked somewhere in the city that was open for tours. I checked it out before we left and found the USS Blueback was at the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry in the heart of downtown Portland. Although the museum is incredible, we opted to just do the sub tour. We got to see the engine room, the torpedo room, the bunks and dining room. It was absolutely fascinating and worth driving there for. This particular submarine has been docked for 15 years and had been in service for longer than I've been alive. It was also used in the movie "Hunt for Red October" and as a backdrop in "Hawaii Five-O". I"m really dating myself now.

USS Blueback 581

We checked in to the hotel and about 40 of us invaded the Old Spaghetti Factory for Quinn's team dinner followed by "lights out" at 9:30.

Saturday: After the 9:00 a.m. game, we headed back to the hotel, burned some energy at the pool and hit the road for the long trek back. We stopped every hour for bathroom breaks, food and in search of the perfect athletic shoes (never found). Many times I found myself wishing one of my passengers had a learner's permit or that I had lost my hearing. 681 miles later, we arrived safe and sound around dinnertime to one happy puppy and his smiling master.