We Were Supposed to Get a Dog for Christmas...

A few months shy of six years ago, we talked about getting a dog. Banana Girl would be two, which as we understood, was a good time to introduce a puppy. And the older girls were really hoping they could finally have a dog now that we had our own home and our own yard. We talked about size, type, who would be responsible for what... all that good stuff.



A few nights after the Dog Talk, we all sat in beach chairs at the end of the cul de sac watching a lunar eclipse. It was an absolutely beautiful night. After all of the peering through telescopes and the sipping of hot cocoa, one of the big girls said, "Well, now it's going back to a full moon, right?" Yep. Full moon... full moon... Wait a minute! Full moon? Shouldn't I have had my...

Oh crap!

The next morning, after the big girls went off to school and Banana Girl stayed behind to hang out with her visiting grandma, The Pilot and I went out for a very quiet breakfast. We stopped at CVS on the way back home to pick up a test, just in case. The results were immediate. We got even quieter. The Pilot finally eeked out, "It is what it is." After the initial freak out (understatement), I picked out a lovely name for my presumably fourth daughter; Lily.




I was as wrong about that name as I was about getting a dog that year. That Christmas five years ago, instead of getting a puppy, we welcomed the only boy to our family. His name means "Little King." And it's only completely fitting...

Happy Birthday, Monkey Boy. We all love you to bits!

I'm Not That Kind of Mom

It dawned on me that many people being directed here from the blogoshpere might be wondering if this is a "Mommy Blog." Since humans like things in categories, I might bug you a little... and I'm okay with that. While I am a Mom...

I'm not *that* kind of mom.

I'm not the kind of mom that makes breakfast and packs lunches and whistles the whole time. I'm the mom that makes her kids get their own cereal, not only because I want them to learn to do things on their own, but because I'm a late riser and like to sit with my coffee on the patio in peace during my ME time before starting my day as "mom."

I'm not the kind of mom that cares if the Chicken Dinos will cause my children to lose 3 days at the end of their life. Chances are, they will live full and happy lives regardless. I do buy organic milk and eggs and read labels like crazy, but I need easy. Microwavable chicken in the shape of T Rexes make my life easy!

I'm not the kind of mom that will smile politely when your child is being naughty and say "Oh, how cute." I will call him out on his behavior, usually beginning my interaction with a strong, "Hey buddy! Don't do that!" If you have a problem with that, control your young...

I'm not the kind of mom that will let a mom bash another mom while she's not there to defend herself. I don't think there is anything that shows the ugly side of humanity more than a bunch of women clawing at the reputation of another woman. I'd love to see those same catty women try to say this with a straight face to their kids: "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

What kind of mom am I?

I'm the mom that will squirt whipped cream into her kids mouths when they say they want dessert.
I'm the mom that will suffer mess after mess so that her kids can be creative.
I'm the mom that screws up... a lot... and cries about it... a lot.
I'm the mom that is ALWAYS late. To everything.
I'm the mom that hates homework more than her kids ever could. That's one reason we homeschool.
I'm the mom that hates volunteering in the classroom more than she hates homework. Another bonus reason for homeschooling.
I'm the mom who never folds the laundry and some mornings forgets to check if the kids brushed their teeth before leaving the house.
I'm the mom who tells the kids to turn the music up.
I'm the mom that unabashedly and imperfectly loves her kids.

I'm responsible... but I'm not perfect. And I don't ever want to be.

So I blog and I happen to be a mom. I guess I'm a mommy blogger if that's how you want to categorize me. But don't forget... I'm not *that* kind of mommy.

And if that bugs you... don't look.

...

What's It All About?

A few days ago, my son told me that he was "the most sensitive." Okay... So I asked, "Most sensitive of who?" "Of all your kids. 'Cause I'm the youngest."

Maybe he is.

This morning, before we dressed him in his combat soldier costume (because that's what a sensitive boy wears, right?) he squeeked out a question: "You know what it's all about mom?" I had to come in close for this answer. I sat next to him wrapped up in his favorite blanket and asked, "What's it all about, buddy?"

"God."

Wow...

.

Small

Small (adverb): softly; in a low voice; without strength or force; weakly; into little pieces

Sometimes, I feel small and scared. Like I'm vulnerable to any harm that might come my way. I become insecure in my insignificance. As though I have no protection against the world. I think of my babies... the moment I first held them... knowing that it was my responsibility to take care of them and keep them from harm. It was an awesome responsibility. One that I wasn't always successful at. One that, in my brokenness and anger, I screwed up more than I care to admit.

And I wonder if I deserve to feel anything but small...

Sometimes when I sit on the beach, I'm aware of my insignificant role in the world. I'm dwarfed by the horizon layed out in front of me, so vast that my vision bends at the corners. On the edge of the world, I am still very aware that I am loved. And I try so hard not to project my human frailties and mistakes on the God of the Universe. Instead, I try to let the horizon comfort me. The waves always sound like the hearty laughter of a proud father. The sun always feels like a tender kiss on my forehead. In that place, where I am so small, I feel so wonderfully significant.

I feel like a precious daughter.

I don't know that I've ever been so concerned about the world in my entire life. I don't know that I've ever felt this vulnerable before. I don't know that I have ever been at a place where I can't choose a leader. When I didn't know that everything would be okay. And as scary as that is to me, I realize that I should never put so much trust in one fallible man. There is more... and we are more... and life is more... and God is so big...

And I am small... and vulnerable... and still precious.

.

Bridget

I was saddened this week at the loss of a woman I never knew. I mean, I never knew her personally. I have, however, come to know her through those that loved her.

My friend's sister had a lovely friend named Bridget. Bridget had a wonderful husband named Steve. She also had a sweet little girl named Grace and a newborn named Chloe. Bridget loved to dance and be with family.

Bridget had cancer.

Early on in Bridgets pregnancy with Chloe, she was given the news. During that time, she spoke of a calmness that washed over her knowing that everything, somehow, would be all right... even if her earthly body died. She believed that God was standing right beside her and in that strength, she lived each day. After many weeks of pregnancy with chemo, an emergency C-Section was performed and Baby Chloe was saved. Unfortunately, the prognosis never got any better for Bridget, and after much prayer and discussion and tearful last goodbyes, Bridget passed on. The email I received yesterday left me a little sad, but also feeling amazingly blessed for having been a witness to the strength and grace of a woman I never knew.

Her husband wanted me to know her. He wanted everyone to know her. Everyone who was ever touched by her. Everyone who will miss her. Everyone who ever breathed a prayer for her. So he pulled out an email from six years ago and invited us into a moment between a man and a woman so that we might know what a special person Bridget was. It's a long list, but don't worry... you have time to read it...

LOVE 101

1. I love when you smile

2. I love your Yahtzee celebration

3. I love how supportive you are of others

4. I love that you can dance

5. I love that you don't like Strawberry Hag -- more for me! :)

6. I love that your value our relationship

7. I love it when you rub my back in church

8. I love it when you laugh at my jokes

9. I love how supportive you are of your mom

10. I love that you love your family so much

11. I love that embarrassing things don't embarrass me when it is a result of you (see V-day cookie)

12. I love that you have entrusted me with your heart

13. I love your ankles

14. I love how we are able to work through our problems and come out stronger at the end

15. I love how your personality balances mine

16. I love how you support your friends

17. I love that you accept me and my many flaws

18. I love that I can give my life to you and know it was a good investment :)

19. I love your nose

20. I love that you pull me out of my shell so many times

21. I love the fact that looking into your eyes and smile can calm the storms inside me

22. I love your heart

23. I love smelling your hair after a shower

24. I love driving the Rav-4 with you as my co-pilot

25. I love that I can trust you to do the right thing

26. I love that you are a committed Christian

27. I love that we made a shift from 4:30 to 11:00 service for eachother's growth

28. I love that you are working on telling me concerns or things that bother you quickly

29. I love rubbing your back

30. I love rubbing the tops of your feet

31. I love your generosity

32. I love your kindness

33. I love that you have stopped breaking hard for me

34. I love that you were not late on Sunday or this morning

35. I love the glow you get when you talk about our relationship

36. I love hour head smashed in my chest when we hug real tight

37. I love your bumper

38. I loved it when you taught me how to ice-skate

39. I love how you compliment my strengths/weaknesses

40. I love how we have great talks about different things

41. I love that you know my WSU jersey number

42. I love that you don't hate me for buying a Nextel phone

43. I love how truly supportive you are of me

44. I love how we both rave about Gordon Huegenberger

45. I love that we both love Park Street Church

46. I love that we met at Park Street Church

47. I love kissing your neck

48. I love spending entire weekends with you away (see Wash. DC)

49. I love watching people get drawn to you

50. I love how others admire you so much

51. I love snowboarding with you

52. I love snuggling on the couch with you

53. I love taking walks in the rain with you

54. I love sitting on benches in the park with you

55. I love going to sleep on the couch next to you

56. I love waking up next to you

57. I love being your disc jokey

58. I love when we go on trips together (NYC, DC, Oregon...Australia?)

59. I love when you open up to me

60. I love opening up with you

61. I love looking at the picture of you on my cube wall

62. I love dreaming up pictures we can put up on our condo's new walls

63. I love going to BC football games with you

64. I love going to Sister Sorel with you

65. I love hearing your "smokers" voice

66. I love calling your office

67. I love walking by Bakey's on my way to Fanieul Hall and reminiscing

68. I love picking up your tab

69. I love making you happy

70. I love it that you make me so happy

71. I love it when you clean my earlobes

72. I love it when we sit close together on the T

73. I love it when we went on runs together...we should get back into this

74. I love talking to you after your dance class, you're so full of energy

75. I love playing tricks on you

76. I love giving you zrbrts

77. I love rubbing your stomach and back super softly

78. I love seeing you wake up

79. I love scaring you when you go to pick something from my face

80. I love that I have written 79 of these without hesitation

81. I love that I can call you my fiancee

82. I love that we have wonderful mutual friends

83. I love that you are my life's number one priority

84. I love that you are forgiving

85. I love that you are understanding

86. I love it when you look at me with your sheepish grin

87. I love it when you hold my hand

88. I love it when we hug that special way on the escalators

89. I love falling in love with you again and again when I dream of you

90. I love that you are accepting of my love affair with REM

91. I love that you love family as much as me

92. I love that we look to hang out with one another before anyone else

93. I love that you are 5'6''

94. I love that you looked into buying me some new chinos

95. I love in a few months we will look back at Thursday as just a blip in the radar screen

96. I love that you stuck by me through my weird time in early January

97. I love that you didn't run away when you were scared I was cheating on you with Lisa

98. I love the dream that I will be this old (98) and still call you my sweetheart

99. I love that you strengthen my character

100.I love that you will be this old (100) when I am still calling you my sweetheart

101.I love that God brought you into my life.

Just the tip of the iceberg. There is so much more that cannot be explained in words.

Your forever,

Steve

Still foggy in here...

It's been a week since Day One at BlogHer and I am finally back into reality mode. Not an easy thing, let me tell you.

I'm feeling a lot of feelings right now. And since all of my therapy money went to my trip to San Francisco for BlogHer, I'm just laying it all here. You lucky reader, you...

I really wish I would have stayed at the St. Francis. Not because it's such a beautiful hotel or because I wanted to be able to just walk downstairs to the sessions. I wish I wouldn't have spent nearly as much time with my sister as I had... and it was pretty limited time. It was awkward. I realize now that I just can't be around her. It hurts too much. I'm upset that she's the only other kid that lived through life with me and doesn't have any desire to talk about it without being hurtful and sarcastic. I'm also upset with her for her snarky jabs and then getting all exasperated like I'm the one that did something wrong when I finally had to jab her back. Sorry, but stupid questions and being talked down to kinda do that to me! I had to summon all of my decency in order to just give her one of those two-pat-man-hugs at the airport. I couldn't walk away fast enough. Well, I was late for my flight, so I had to walk fast... but you get what I mean, don't you?

While I was up there, my kids were all here. All of them. Even the one that doesn't talk to me. I invited her, but I have a feeling, that was all being planned before my gracious invitation. I'm still trying to get all the stories straight about how my hand-blown glass humingbird feeder met its demise or why my furniture looks like it's sitting on a slant. I also reached for a mug only to find it missing. I already said what I needed to say. I think my words were heard. I'm not sure how they were processed on the other end, but that's not my deal. What happened was that I let them all know that I was disappointed. The reactions were that they didn't think I should be upset. Apparently, the mere fact that they were helping me out means that anything that was broken or missing or misspoken would be forgiven.

Ummm... no.

If I'm watching your cat and it dies because it jumped out a three story window because I let him play there and then I said Ooops, sorry, but don't be mad, cause I was watching your cat for you... is that okay? No. Or how is it that you can wash all of YOUR mugs without breaking them, but come over to my house and all of the sudden you have some crazy, mysterious hand problem that prevents you from holding MY mug without letting it drop? Huh, Mom? Or if you are going to partake in my home and all the amenities, have the decency to respond to an email that asks if you had a nice time and that I hope you were comfortable here... even though you won't visit when I AM here.

I'm also still heaving out the last of the fog trapped in my lungs. I get this weird temporary asthma whenever I breathe in moist air, which is usually daily living so close to the coast. That was part of the reason I moved further inland when the pilot and I sold our house and separated. I need dry, people! DRY! I'm thinking I'm going to take a trip out to the Grand Canyon. It's so beautiful there... so big... so amazing... we went there for lunch last year. Yep. Just for lunch. The life of a pilot's wife is kinda weird like that.

Am I still a pilot's wife? hmmm...

We are "celebrating" our Eight Year Anniversary next week. He'll be in Texas on the actual day. That's another thing I've become accustomed to. Before you feel sorry for me, I have to say that I understand that it's only a date. Some random numbers on a calendar. I'd much rather have our lives be sane and joyful than to celebrate artificially on a specific date. Does that make sense? So, I'm picking him up from the airport two days later. We're going to dinner from there. Downtown San Diego is always a lot of fun, so it should be nice. I'm really looking forward to some time alone with him. But from there, what? We've been talking about moving back in together, but I think we're both a little scared. I know I am. This Texas thing is nice. He's been away for ten days. I've had some fun in The City. But now, we go back to real life.

And it's all still just a little foggy to me...

...