Happy 3rd Birthday, Abi!

Happy Birthday, Abigail Grace. I can’t believe you’re three. You’re not a baby anymore. You’re not a toddler anymore. You’re a kid now. And it’s so bittersweet. I love watching you grow and learn new things. And we’re so proud of you. But you’re growing up too fast. Sometimes I am honestly shocked by the sassy things you say and do. Like when I asked you if you had taken off your pajamas yet (like I had asked you to 10 minutes before) and you said, “no, you still see them on me, don’t ya?” You are constantly pushing your boundaries to see what you can and can’t get away with. And when I tell you not to do something, you are never afraid to look me right in the eye and do it anyway. Some days I think you spend more time in time out than you spend out of it. And I swear, sometimes you think it’s totally worth it. It is not uncommon for us to have “stand-offs.” Like the time you refused to pick up your toys and I said you couldn’t play or have any snacks until you picked up your toys. Three hours later, I won. You birthday really should have been yesterday, September 22nd, the day three years ago that I was induced. But true to form, you did not want to be born and would not be born until we had to force you by c-section……22 lovely hours later. We should have known. We often use words to describe you like persistent, strong-willed, stubborn and determined. Your MiMi says this means you will be very successful in life. And I believe her. Because once you set your mind on something, you don’t stop until you get it. Luckily, you will never be more stubborn than me. Or your dad, for that matter. (you are a lethal combination of us both)  So with God’s guidance, I feel pretty confident that we can teach you to use your stubbornness for good instead of evil. Speaking of stubbornness, you are finally, finally potty trained. For the most part. You have even started telling us when you need to go. It was a long battle, and we pretty much had to force you (noticing a pattern??), but you did it. There are days I think I don’t have any patience left and that I might even pull my hair out. But the next morning I wake up and find I am patient. And it occurs to me that you are to thank for this. Through you God is teaching me patience and to let go of the little things. Or in the words of your dad – “This is your fault, she is JUST like you!” And you are, so much like me. You are particular, don’t like to be told what to do, you don’t like to be messed with, you don’t like your food to touch, you love to read and you get your feelings hurt just a little too easily.

You are my little helper. No matter what your dad or I are doing you want to help. Whether it’s dusting, folding laundry, sweeping, cooking, doing dishes, canning green beans, building a deck or mowing.  Some of my favorite times are when you and I are cooking together. And your kitchen skills are pretty impressive for a 3 year old. Your dad is hoping you will grow up to be a chef. Everything usually takes longer when you “help” me, but I look at it as an investment of time. You love to help so much and we really try to encourage that so you will keep wanting to help when you are old enough to be truly helpful.

You are a girl on the go. You have so much energy and it wears me out trying to wear you out. Hence your birthday gift – a 12ft trampoline. You love to go places and do things.  You are really developing a vivid imagination and I love listening to you play and imagine you are the mommy, a bear, a butterfly, the daddy, a baby and on and on. You are really into being the mommy and taking care of your baby. Watching you with your “baby” is like watching a reflection of myself. An excellent reminder that by my example I am teaching you how mommies should act. I think of that often now during the day; you are watching me. And it keeps me at my best.

You are a good big sister. I wasn’t sure how you would adjust to having a baby sister, but you did awesome. You love, love, love your sister. And I feel quite confident that later you will knock anyone out who messes with her. When Madi cries you bring her toys and snacks. You give her hugs and kisses for no reason. Of course, you also scream bloody murder when she knocks over your block tower or messes up your puzzle. Ever since Madi’s birthday last month we’ve noticed a little jealousy. So tonight we took you out to eat all by yourself. It’s going to be our new family birthday tradition. Then you got to pick out a movie at Family Video.

You are crazy about m&ms. I can’t blame you, they’re delicious. Your Papaw brings them for you every time he sees you. Every time. Whether we’re in church or you haven’t had breakfast yet. So this year we threw you an m&m birthday party. It was a beautiful day to be outside eating lots of m&ms. It turned out super cute and I loved planning it. I think you had awesome 3^rd birthday and you deserve it. You are a great kid and I am so glad God chose me to be your mom.

Love you always,

Mommy (and Daddy)



party entrance

 

shirt and bow by mommy, nails by aunt kyleigh





decorations, taco bar, the loot and the cake (thank you pinterest)



blowing out candles

  

cake!



Eli loves a good piece of cake too





trying out her new toys





Eli's plumbers pants were CRACKing me up!! ha!





Abi & Marci





the trampoline was a big hit with kids of all ages





After lunch today we had frosted donuts for a special birthday treat

 



showing off her skills







birthday dinner at Abi's favorite place - Fazoli's!





Rest In Peace, Jackey Boy

Jackey Boy. Black Jack. Jack Attack. Jack.

“Yack” was Abi’s first word after “da-da.” “Dog” was Madi’s first word after “da-da.” (Is everyone noticing where I fit into this equation!?) He was Adam’s little buddy. And he will be missed. Yesterday he jumped our fence for the 568^th time and was hit by a car. A police officer got Adam’s number off of his tag and called him to give him the bad news.  Thus ruining his lunch and the rest of the day.

If you know me, you know I’m not an animal lover. On my best day, I’m an animal liker. Most days I’m an animal tolerater. In a world full of vegans, dog Halloween costumes and pet health insurance, I realize I am the stark minority. So please don’t be offended, I’ve just never really bonded the smelly, hairy animal kingdom.  Most days Jack drove me flippin nuts. All that being said, I can’t believe how sad I am that’s he’s gone.

The day we got Jack

Jack’s adventures are legendary among our friends and family. I could write a book about all the ridiculous stunts he’s pulled during the six years we had him. All that dog wanted to do was run and be free. It didn’t matter how often we walked him or let him run around at Adam’s parents’ house. All he wanted to do was get out of our fenced in yard and run around the neighborhood. Yes, even after he was neutered. He could chew through cables and ropes and harnesses. Which he did at a campsite once. And when he was walking around our tent in the middle of the night I thought it was a coyote and almost peed my pants. He could dig under fences. Which he has done more times than I can count. He did it at our house once and got animal control called on himself. Two days and almost $200 later we shamefully picked him up. With me swearing we were getting rid of that freaking dog. He dug out of the fence at my mom’s once and was gone for days. We thought he was gone for good. Until a police officer called Adam on his first teacher day to inform him that “his canine” was stuck out on a dam and animal control was picking him up. So a very pregnant me drove down to Animal Control (again) to be informed that he was actually at the Humane Society. So then I drove across town to the Humane Society where they informed me that Jack had swam out to a dam in the middle of a lake (9 miles from home!!!) and had gotten stuck. There were two police cars, a fire truck and animal control all there to rescue him. Brother. I swore to Adam (again) that we were getting rid of that #$@% dog. Two months ago Jack learned to jump fences. Making it impossible to contain his wild spirit. He would jump our fence the first chance he got. It took us weeks to figure out how he was getting out. Meanwhile, he was running loose in our neighborhood at least once a day. Where I am quite sure we are now the “redneck neighbors who don’t take care of their dog.” And I told Adam (again) we are absolutely, 100% getting rid of this dog. We asked several people to take him. Just until we moved out into the country where we can run as much as he wants. No takers. Shocker. Then much to my unending dismay, Jack had to become an inside dog. We had no choice. I hated it. I hated the hair. I hated the smell. I hated having to revolve our lives around letting him out. And still, almost every time I let him out to pee, he would jump that God forsaken fence. By this time I was sure our neighbors were going to start a petition to get us evicted from the neighborhood. He got animal control called on himself (again). This time I told Adam, ‘If you want him back, go get him yourself. Because as far as I’m concerned, he can stay there.’ Three days later, after Adam realized I was serious, he went down to Animal Control (again) and picked him up. I said (again) we HAVE to get rid of this dog. It is, quite obviously, not working. And then yesterday, our worst fear happened.

Yes, we wanted someone to take him. Somewhere where we could take the girls to visit him. They love him so much. It’s the only reason we kept him as long as we did. We always thought someday we would take him back when he could be happy with lots of room to run.

This is, by far, the saddest thing that happened to Abi in her short three years. This is the first truly sad thing we’ve ever had to explain. And it was awful. How do you explain to a three-year old that her friend isn’t coming back? How do we explain death and heaven when we don’t even understand it completely as adults? We considered telling her he just ran away. But I really didn’t want to lie to her. Sometimes life is sad. And I want her to know that it’s ok to be sad when sad things happen. Someday, someone she knows will pass away and that will be much, much sadder. If we start the conversation now, she will have a frame of reference to help her deal with the grief that is an inevitable part of life. Plus, what will she think when she finds out later that we lied to her about something this important? So we told her that something sad happened to Jack. That he was playing in the road (a little reinforcement of traffic safety) and was hit by a car. That he was hurt really bad and that he died. And that when you die, it means you can’t come back. That we were very sad and we would miss Jack very much.

Part of the conversation went something like this:

Adam: Jack was hurt really bad.

Abi: Is he broken?

Adam: Yes, kind of.

Abi: Is he broken in pieces?

Adam: um…yes.

Abi: Can you fix him, Daddy?

Adam: No sweetie, I can’t. I wish I could.

Abi: But Daddy, you’re big and strong, you can fix him.

Me: Daddy doesn’t know how to fix dogs. Neither does Mommy. After dogs die, they go to heaven. And now Jack is with Jesus. And he’s happy because now he isn’t hurt anymore.

Abi: Did God fix Jack?

Adam: Yes, he did. But now he has to stay in heaven and he can’t come back. We will really miss Jack, won’t we?

I want to remember this sweet little conversation with her. It is such a difficult thing to understand. And even harder to explain. I know she doesn’t really get it. She asked a few times when he is coming back. The older she gets, the more I worry about saying the right things and not “screwing her up.” I know this is probably the first of many difficult conversations we’ll have to have with our kids. I just have to pray that God will guide our words and thoughts.

 


After we told Abi about Jack we all drew pictures of him and talked about what a good dog he was.
This is Abi's picture.

 Rest in peace, Jack. You were a good dog when it came down to it. We all loved you and will miss you. I'm sure you are in heaven just like we told Abi. Where I am quite sure you are already driving St. Peter crazy by jumping over the pearly gate.

TORNADO WARNING

There have been reports that a tornado has touched down in the McCullough’s Run area of Bartholomew County. This tornado is fast moving and highly destructive. Cabinets and closets have been emptied, shoes have been thrown in toilets, toys have been dumped, important papers have been shredded, dog food has been eaten and very full trash cans have been knocked over onto kitchen floors still wet from mopping. The victims of this chubby tornado are overwhelmed by the amount of debris it has left in its path. Before one mess can be cleaned up, another has been created. This tornado is especially dangerous because it can climb. It climbs stairs, slides, furniture and tables. 

This storm was originally reported to be cute and innocent, but now forecasters are advising friends and family to take the proper precautions if this tornado is headed your way. This is not a test. 

Penny Pincher

I come from a long line of penny pinchers. My Grandpa Harry's mom, Grandma Great (no, that's not a typo. that's what we always called her), she washed her aluminum foil and reused it. My Great-Grandma Jean, who is 93 and lived during The Great Depression, never turns on her air conditioner unless it's 95 out. And only then if you ask her to because you're about to have a heat stroke. She still has the same dishes, furniture, carpet, clothes and hairbrush she had when she got married. My Grandma Darlene has a pantry full of Cool-Whip containers, butter tubs and take-out boxes that she saves for who knows what. And she never wants to turn on the overhead ceiling fan lights because they use too much electricity. My mom washes and reuses her ziploc bags. She uses aluminum cans, cardboard velveeta cheese boxes and cottage cheese containers for drawer organizers. So it's no wonder I am also cheap, a tight wad frugile.

While Adam finds this character trait annoying at times, it comes in handy when you're stretching a teacher's salary to provide for a family of four. A task I take seriously and am very proud of. I do a lot of things to save money. Some of which include making my own laundry detergent and dishwasher detergent. I've had several people ask me for this recipe recently so I thought I would share it. Please feel free to re-share, I don't care. :)

It is actually shocking how easy and CHEAP making dishwasher detergent it. Everyone should try it. Unless of course you hate money or have so much of it that you're already using it for toilet paper.

HOMEMADE DISHWASHER DETERGENT

2 Cups baking soda
2 Cups Borax

- Add 1Tbs to the prewash compartment and 1Tbs to the wash compartment

........that's it folks!!

 A box of Borax at Wal-Mart or Rural King is about $3.50. This box of baking soda was about $.40 at Aldis. You will use the whole box of baking soda and just a fraction of the Borax. So for you can make this recipe for about $1!! I run my dishwasher everyday, sometimes twice a day, and this lasts me about a month. So for $1 you can make dishwasher detergent for a month! If you buy it at the store I think it's usually $8-$9. I'm not really sure about that, since it's been a long time since I bought detergent.



Just measure it, throw it in whatever container you want to use to store it and you're done. Takes less than 5 minutes. And that included going upstairs to get the Borax. Notice I use an old coffee container to store mine. Thrifty is my middle name.

Then I just put my beloved detergent back in it's home under my sink. Another bonus I should mention is that it is 100% all-natural. And it's good for the environment. If you're into that kind of thing. Not that I'm not into saving the environment, I just think that saving money is the best part.

But does it work you ask?? Yes. I have never noticed a difference between store-bought powdered detergent and my homemade stuff. If you're worried about water spots you could always pour vinegar into the bottom of your dishwasher before you run it.

Try it. You will be amazed.

Today is the Greatest Day of My Life

I've had a lot of good days in my 29+ years. The first time I drove a car by myself after I got my license. Moving into the dorms with my bff. Adam and I sitting with our toes in the sand on our honeymoon. The first time a student said, "I love you, Mrs. Megel." The birth of both the girls.

But today. Today is the best day of my life. Today Abi was helping me make lunch when she suddenly said, "Uh-oh! I think I better go sit on the potty!" We RAN to the bathroom and one minute later she announced she had POOPED on the potty. I didn't believe her at first. Because she has never pooped in the toilet. There has been more poop on my floors in the past week than the animal hoarders on TLC. I looked and there it was. A big, beautiful, floating turd. I was overcome with happiness. Pride. Joy. Shock. I am not a failure as a parent. She will be potty trained. She will be able to go to school. I have accomplished the impossible.

Abi was soooo proud of herself. She knew she did good. We promptly called Daddy at school to tell him The Awesome News. I can't tell you how much I wanted to take a picture of that voluntary turd. But I resisted. We are far, very far, from being completely potty trained. But God has sent us a sign of hope. He sent Noah a rainbow. And he sent us a turd.



the proud pooper

  

Up #@?$ Creek Without a Diaper

Abi will be three next month. She is still.not.potty.trained. Not even a little. We have tried off and on for the past year with no success. My well-intentioned friends and family say things like, “she will when she’s ready,” “she’s not even three yet,” and “my friend’s little girl is almost four and still poops in her pants.” None of these do anything to make me feel better. Especially the last one. I don’t get it. I consider myself a fairly competent parent. My kids eat a well-balanced diet, they rarely watch tv and I would never take them to Wal-Mart in just a diaper. I have a DEGREE in teaching for Pete’s sake. Why can’t I get that girl to pee in the big white bowl!?

A previous potty training attempt. Abi
is giving her sister a toilet paper scarf.
Or a noose. Not sure which.

I’ve read some articles on potty training friggin stubborn reluctant children. This one and this one are a couple examples. The general theme is to let them run around naked from the waist down all the time except bedtime and naptime. Because if they are wearing a diaper they know they pee/poop in it. If they are naked, there’s nothing to catch it so they are more likely to go on the toilet. And you just clean up any accidents. The idea is to do this for about a week; staying in the house or the yard so you can have them sit on the potty every 15-20 minutes. They claim you can potty train a child in 3-5 days using this method. I first read about this theory six months ago. And I thought to myself, ‘surely to Jesus, Mary, Joseph and all the saints in heaven we won’t have to resort to that. But if she’s still not potty trained by her birthday, we’ll try it.’ Well boys and girls, Abi’s birthday is in 25 days. She is still showing zero interest. She is the very last of her friends to be in diapers. And I can’t take it anymore.

So Monday morning I took her diaper off of her, told her she was a big girl now and that she could only wear a diaper at naptime and bedtime. But she could wear Big Girl Underwear if she peed in the potty. And she cried. She cried for me to put a diaper on her. I began to question myself: is she really not ready? Am I being a horrible mother right now? Am I really doing permanent and irreversible psychological damage like the random lady in Target warned me I would!? But I said a prayer for strength, channeled Michelle Duggar, Super Nanny and Erin Brokovich and remained strong. I followed “The Plan.” I stuck her on the pot every 15 minutes. And you know what happened?? After about an hour, SHE DID IT!! She was sitting on the toilet and as I walked into the kitchen I heard the most glorious sound I’ve ever heard – the tinkle tinkle of pee coming from my almost-three year old! We jumped, clapped, high fived and hugged. And then I gave her a skittle. We followed The Plan the rest of the day and she peed in the toilet four times. She also had three accidents. But I expected that. In my best calm and emotionless teacher voice I would say, “Oh, you pooped/peed on the carpet? Well poop/pee goes in the potty, not on the floor. Next time you feel like you need to poop/pee tell me and we’ll sit on the potty.” All the while in my head I’m screaming, “There’s poop on my carpet. There’s poop on my carpet. Omigod! Omigod! Omigod!!”





Never have I wished more fervently that we live in the country.
Where it is totally accepted, and normal, for kids to run around naked.



Day 2 and Day 3 went about the same. She tried every 15 minutes and was successful about four times each day. Day 2 she had three accidents again, but yesterday she only had one. I was feeling hopeful. As you can imagine, this is sort of a maddening process. You can’t leave the house. And it requires a lot of work. For about half of her accidents I think it was my fault because I got distracted and forgot to have her try. Today Abi was scheduled for a haircut at 10am. I was sooo nervous. According to The Plan, you don’t put a diaper on them even when you go out.  I had her try before we left, as soon as we got to the salon and as soon as we got back home. A kid’s haircut only takes five minutes so we weren’t even gone an hour. Success! No accidents! When we pulled in the drive pee pee pants free, I said a prayer of thanks and did a happy dance. And then she proceeded to have two accidents. Ugh.



Day 1. Big Girl Panties and her treat for a good job: a Capri Sun.



 I find myself dreaming about potty training at night. I watch the clock all day long. I am constantly trying to assess if it’s working. She still has yet to tell me on her own that she needs to pee. What does that mean!?  Is she just figuring it out still? Because obviously she is holding it 75% of the time.  Am I insane? Am I the only one? Was the Rude Target Lady right!??



So proud of her new haircut.



30 Comes Early

Adam turns The Big 3-0 in October. I knew I wanted to do something big for his big birthday. Something fun and exciting since he's slightly depressed about his milestone birthday. Ha! I debated ideas for awhile and then one day I got a Groupon email for an exotic car driving experience at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. For a lamborghini. Adam's favorite car. The car he has dreamed of driving since he was a kid. The car he thought he would never be able to drive. The perfect gift for a 30th birthday. Sold.

I wish the date had been a little closer to his actual birthday, but it actually worked out great because he was totally surprised! I wrote up some hints and put them in numbered envelopes for him to open. It was pretty funny because he had no idea what was going on.
 



For weeks he watched videos of lamborghinis and even debated for awhile about driving the Ferrari instead. The day of the drive Adam was soooo excited. It was a lot of fun just seeing him be so geared up. (pun inteded) By no means do I know anything about cars, but it was cool just to be around all the rare, and very expensive, cars. We were surrounded by Ferraris and Lamborghinis. Adam was basically drooling. When he finally got to drive, he did just as he dreamed about. He floored it and went way over 100 mph on the straight aways. He took most of the corners with tires squeeling. He was in heaven. And then he drove like a maniac the whole way home.



Signing his life away. And possibly all our life savings.
And maybe one of the girls.



waiting in line!

getting in the lambo....notice the red ferrari

  

can you believe how short these cars are!? Adam had to scrunch his head down to fit!

 


This lamborghini was not running that day because the rotars had worn down.
The guy said they would cost $15,000 to replace!!! What the what!?


Happy Birthday, Babe. You work so hard to provide for us so I can stay home. I'm so glad you're my partner in this crazy gig called parenting. And I'm proud of the life we've built together. I'll love you even when you're for real old. Not just 30 old.

Happy 1st Birthday, Madi!

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl. Being pregnant with you was no picnic. But that seems like a lifetime ago. Towards the end I remember telling your dad, "I'm not sure if I can do this again." But sweetheart, the second I saw you every ache, pain, naseous day and restless night faded away. I'd do it all again. And I will, God willing. That's the miracle of motherhood.

You made up for a rough pregnancy by being the easiest baby that God ever created. You hardly ever cried. And when you did we usually just had to feed you. You were easy to nurse and weaned yourself about three weeks ago. Thanks for that. Most of the time you were content to just lay or sit and be entertained by the circus that is our home. You smiled early and haven't stopped since. You smile at strangers and make their day. You smile at me and remind me why we sacrifice so I can spend my days with you. You smile at your dad when he gets home and make him forget all the stress of his day. You love to play and laugh. Being tickled and chased make you cackle uncontrollably. And I'm pretty sure that deep belly laugh of yours could solve most of the world's problems.

From birth you've been "healthy" as your Papaw calls you. Always in the upper 90th percentile or off the chart. It's sometimes a challenge to keep your belly full. And you grow out of clothes faster than I can get the tubs down from the attic. Everybody loves a chubby baby and you are no exception. This has earned you a variety of affectionate nicknames: King Kong, Big Hoss, Tub-a-Lub, Fatty Madi, Chubbers and Thunder Thighs. Now that you're a year old your dad says we have to stop calling you these hilarious names so they don't stick. He's probably right.

You are only a year old, but already you are loved by many. You have a long list of aunts, uncles, honorary aunt and uncles, cousins, grandparents and friends that would spoil you rotten if we let them. You have the biggest, most beautiful blue eyes. People are always commenting on how pretty your eyes are. I believe those baby blues of yours may have the boys lining up at the door in about 15 years. Don't worry. The gun owners on the above mentioned list (and there are a lot of them) will surely scare them away and embarass you immensely.

It makes me so sad that you're technically not a baby anymore. I wish I could make the days go slower, but I can't. So I'll just try to cherish these days with you. Even though all you do these days is rip up my check book, sneak up the stairs 56 times a day, empty my cabinets and chew on electrical cords. You are one of our greatest blessings. And fill our lives with so much joy. Just like your name. Happy Birthday, Madelyn Joy.

Love,
Mommy (and Daddy)

    



ripping up a catalog. a borrowed catalog.



Glory Days

Ahhh...here we are in our Glory Days. No kids, no husbands, no jobs, no toilets to clean and no mortgages. Only trying to stay awake during class, pretending to study and good times in between. Ok, so college isn't really THAT easy. But it seems that way now.



The top picture is our first John Mayer concert ever. Circa 2002.
Freshman in college and oh so proud of our newly acquired independence.
Exidenced by the fact that we are all wearing college sweatshirts! HA!!

 Back in the day, concerts were our thang. We saved our pennies (quarters were for laundry) to buy the tickets and counted down the days on the dry erase boards on our dorm room doors. We were totally awesome. Last weekend was my first concert since I've been pregnant with Abi. Almost four years. It's shameful really. But if you have children, you probably understand. Especially if you had two kids in two years like I did. It was only fitting that it was John Mayer with all my favorite ladies. We sat in the lawn at Klipsch. And let me just say....for the first time....I felt old. While we were waiting for John, we spent most of the time commenting on the fashion choices of the twenty-year olds around us. And that's how you know you're getting old. When the current fashions don't make sense to you anymore.

But anywho, we had a great time together as we always do. And John put on a good show as he always does. Although, I was slightly disappointed he didn't play more of his older stuff. (Another sign I'm old) I love my BSU girls! Chirp Chirp!!

Life Lessons from a 2 Year Old

God has given us a very wise two year old. It's probably not just her. I'm sure it's just the same innocence and wonder that every child is born with before life and growing up get in the way. But because she's mine, it seems special.

Pretty much every morning Abi has toast with peanut butter for breakfast. Sometimes, if she's not too grumpy when she first wakes up, she likes to stand in the kitchen and wait for her toast to pop up. Judging by her excitement and anticipation, you would think she was waiting for the space shuttle to launch. And when the toast finally does pop up, she jumps and squeels with joy. Over toast. And one morning earlier this week I stood and watched her in awe. I don't remember when I stopped finding the joy in little things like toast popping up. But now I find myself trying to do just that.

The weather this week has been beautiful (which I stopped to appreciate the beauty and joy in). We've been playing outside a lot and going for walks. Usually when we walk Abi wants to push any combination of babies and stuffed animals in her stroller while I pull Madi in the wagon with Jack on the leash. Sometimes I get so aggravated with her because she is constantly stopping in front of me or slowing down. Until she said, "Mommy, look! It's an ant's house!" (an ant hill) I hadn't even noticed we were walking over a collection of ant hills. "Yes, you're right, that's an ant hill. Let's keep walking," I said. Then she hits me with, "Mommy, did God makes those ants?" And I realized that we are walking by God's beautiful creations every day and not even noticing. Talk about shame. So we stopped and watched the ants go in and out of the ant hill for a long time. I won't say I still don't get frustrated when she is constantly stopping during what will most likely be my only exercise for the day. But I do try to be patient enough to let her be curious about the beautiful world God created for us. 

This morning we had a couple errands to run. So I just threw on a hat over my unwashed hair, looked in the mirror and prayed we wouldn't see anyone we know while we were out. Especially someone I knew from teaching so they wouldn't think 'you left your career as a professional educator to spend your days getting your oil changed and not showering!?' I come downstairs and Abi says, "You look beautiful, Mommy!" Something she has never said on her own without Adam prompting her to first. My heart melted. She was right. Ok, no. I'm certainly not going to win any beauty contests today. But I'm spending the day with her and to her, that makes me beautiful. Way to put my priorities in order kiddo.





The reasons I never have to time shower, and the reasons my heart overflows with happiness



Birthday Bonanza

A few weeks ago we were invited to two kid's birthday parties...on the same day. We spent a fun day eating lots of cake (and the most delicious Belize potato puff things made by Lu's mom!), visiting with friends and going to bed early that night. Shew, partying is tiring. Although not in the same way it was 10 years ago.

First up was Kiyomi's Princess Party at KidsCommons. Then Finn had a Moustache and Bowtie Party for his first birthday that evening. We are so incredibly blessed by the friendships in our small church group. And even more blessed that our girls love all their kids.



Abi and the birthday girl! Isn't that balloon princess amazing!?





Adam took full advantage of, quite possibly, the only moustache he'll ever
be able to grow. And I just love Madi's Hitler moustache!





First Birthday cake smashes have to be one of the funniest things ever.
And Finn did not disappoint! That boy was all business when it came to eating his cake.
He's almost exacly one month older than Madi and I always get a kick out
of those two being total chubs together.