What if...

I can't remember getting a single F in my school career. I seem to be making up for lost time as a grown up. Just this week...

F is for failure to adhere to my self-imposed email/blog restriction. The past two nights circumstances have arisen that have caused me to abandon my own rule. Feels crummy to admit that.

F is for another failed attempt to grocery shop with the kids without turning into Evil Erin.

F is for forgetting to complete a number of tasks on time this week. My brain seemed to delete several items from my mental "to do" list until it was well past their deadline for completion.

F is for fussing at David about an assortment of minor things that don't really matter.

F is for fretting about money and other people's opinions...things I know remain unaffected by my worry.

F is for Forgiven.

I have issued a self imposed regulation to my emailing and blogging (to include both writing and reading).

David laughed when I told him, but I am serious.

I will not check email or blog (again, both reading and writing) after 6pm (earlier if David gets home before then).

Seriously.

For the first time in 5 years my children to go to bed at an early hour and I'm ashamed to say I have been burning this alone time with David on this crazy computer. We can certainly find something useless to do together, like watch his new favorite show, Modern Marvels. We can at least sit by one another for that, this computer chair is only built for one.

Intentional, ladies and gentlemen. I am becoming more intentional about claiming time for myself, time for my kids and time for my husband.

I'll let you know next week how it's going.

I've gotten some complaints about the length of my blog posts. By complaints, I mean one person, multiple times...I won't mention any names...rhymes with windy. But she's probably just the only one with the nerve to admit she's been driven to skimming my wordy entries.

But I've never been known for brevity so I'm faced with a challenge because I too prefer shorter, easy-read blogs. Could it be that I'm a two-faced blogger? I like to read other's brief entries but write novellas myself? But I really don't want readers feeling the need for Cliff's Notes, like my brother who used to ask his wife to summarize my emails.

We'll see what happens. There must be a "perfect" length. But I wouldn't hold your breath.

Today is my dad's birthday. I've been churning this blog in my brain all day, trying to think of the best way to honor him, and honestly I'm at a loss. I'm just crazy about both of my parents. On my mom's birthday, I really wanted all of you to feel you knew like my mom. The feedback I got from people who do know her is that my blog description nailed her, she said so herself. It was a lighthearted post, but if you know those simple facts, you know her well. My dad is harder to describe, on paper he sounds almost contradictory: he's so smart and intense, even intimidating, but also has the best sense of humor. Very funny, loves to laugh and joke. He knows the kitchen like the back of his hand, but it's doubtful you'd catch him in a laundry room. His work ethic is fierce, and he puts in long hours at the office but he is not a workaholic. Family is priority, he'll take a day off to go to an amusement park or sit in a pediatrician's office with his grandkids. He's very strong and independent, but needs my mom like he needs air.

But there are so many little things I just don't know about my dad. I can't tell you his favorite TV show or his favorite color. I'm not sure of his favorite movie or pasttime. I do know:

He is the only person to have ever called me by a nickname: Angel. For years, but it's been years.

He gave me his eye color, hair color, skin color...but also his temper.

He talks about me behind my back. Nice things, proud-dad things...word gets back to me.

He is Pa to my kids, and they are quite certain there is nothing he can't do. When I am unable to accomplish a task (like untying a balloon), I often hear...If Pa were here he could do it. Luke also seems to think one day he and Pa will go somewhere in a helicopter. Lily believes his sole purpose in gainful employment is to keep her and Grandma on the go, out to lunch and to Walmart.

My dad is a problem solver and he will always make time to take care of his loved ones: his kids, his siblings, his friends. Not in a bring-you-a-covered-dish kind of way, but a share your burdens and help you find a solution kind of way. I have watched him minister to so many people in practical ways. He's a go-to guy. A question about a legal situation, help with taxes, finding deals on airline tickets, lost cell phones...I just can't even list the ways he's helped people out by offering practical advice or solutions, myself included. My dad's not a lawyer or an accountant or a travel agent, he just understands the way things work. I'm not sure how to best explain it, he just sees things clearly. As an adult, I still often rely on him for advice or practical solutions to problems I'm facing, he never belittles me or makes me feel like he's tired of helping.

I know this post is very random, I hope it does my dad justice. Probably hard to believe it's my 6th attempt and it's taken almost 2 hours. I wish I had a blog post as neatly packaged as the gift I've yet to mail him...but who am I kidding, it's not neatly packaged either!

Happy Birthday Daddy. I wish I were close enough to celebrate with you.

Today is my brother and sister-in-law's anniversary. Seven years?? Just wanted to take a quick walk down memory lane...

Ray and Becky had a beautiful wedding...she was a lovely young bride, he a very handsome groom. It was a family affair, both my sister and I were bridesmaids, my David was a groomsman. If I recall correctly, the wedding ceremony went off without a hitch...but then came the reception. The reception was at an outdoor venue, a large covered pavillion. I don't remember if it was just a typical Florida thunderstorm or a more serious tropical incident, but either way, come time for the reception, the bottom fell out! Ruined, right? Wrong! We had the best time! Their reception still tops the list as my most enjoyed wedding reception. You see, bad weather at an outdoor reception will certainly clear out your fair-weather friends and guests. Left behind are the tried and true, ready to party! Sure the hems of our dresses were dripping with mud, delicate up-dos gave way to high-humidity frizz and a bucket became the dance floor centerpiece for the leaking roof...but what a memorable party! We danced the night away and enjoyed the celebration to the fullest. Bye, Bye, Bye! :)

I'm not always great about blogging on weekends, so this may be all you get until Monday...or Tuesday. This is our week in review:

This week...

...the funniest thing I heard was Austin calling Amy by her first name, rather forcefully at that. He's 10 months old. How many infants have you heard on a first name basis with Mommy? Toddlers often test this out, but rarely infants!

...the hardest parenting decision I made was to insist Lily get a haircut.

...I was most encouraged by the positive feedback about Lily's haircut. I don't always need reinforcement to feel secure in my mothering, but for some reason, this really struck a nerve with me. Thanks to everyone who commented or emailed positively. Thank you to those who disagreed for staying quiet.

...I was most disappointed by my careless email error that let the football ticket secret out. But I got over it quickly.

...we tested a 7:30 bedtime and it did make a difference in our morning.

...Lily had her first school picture taken and checked out her first school library book.

...I wore the same shirt twice (Tuesday and today)

...the weather has been great! A little cloudy today and yesterday but the temperature is as good as it gets...lows in the 50s, highs in the 70s. Luke described it as "hottish-coldish."

...I am one "assignment" away from completing the Bible reading plan I started in January. It has taken me twice as long as it should have.

Have a great weekend!

I have never been able to successfully keep secrets. Several years ago, I did plan a birthday trip for David to the Keys... arranged his time off work, packed our bags, and even hid an ice chest full of ice and food in our master closet. I told him the night before we left. That was a great surprise. I've tried to recreate that level of excitement a time or two without success, but I thought this latest surprise might come close.

I wanted to do something special for David, just to let him know that the long days he's putting in at work, the long hours on Sundays, and the way he still makes our kids such a priority (like taking a couple hours out of his morning to go to a preschool donut social) do not go unnoticed. At least not by me. I may be only person in a day to acknowledge the greatness I see in him, I don't want to miss that opportunity. And I know it all catches up with him, often I think he's running on fumes. And I worry about him.

So that leads me to my attempted surprise. David is a HUGE Tampa Bay Bucs fan. For better, for worse. In sickness and in health. Till death. He loves the Bucs. He grew up very close to the stadium, the "Big Sombrero" as it was known before the new Raymond James was built. Going to Bucs games with his dad has been one of the things he has missed the most since we've lived here in NC. Last year when the Bucs were in town, we went to the Panther's stadium and stood outside. Seriously. The kids were dressed in Bucs garb, we clicked a bunch of pics and listened to the crowd inside. We could hear the Bucs players being introduced, that was exciting for David, but sounds kinda sad now. David's employer at the time did have a tailgating event so we at least got free food. But no standing outside for my man this year. I had a little surprise in mind...

I bought two tickets to the upcoming game. The Bucs will be in town very soon and I wanted David to be there. Inside the stadium. Only one thing would make the day better, if his dad was in the seat next to him. So I offered the ridiculous invitation to David's dad, Ron...to travel 600 miles for a football game!? Not a playoff game, not a Super Bowl...just a regular ol' game. I sent a brief email, along the lines of Hey Ron. I'm surprising David with Bucs tickets. Is there any way you'd be able to come go with him? Don't tell me if you think I'm nuts. Well, I myself think it's nuts to travel so far for a game, but Ron must be as crazy as we are. Within about an hour, he was emailing me his flight itinerary!

But here's where my surprise went south: there was a flurry of emailing between myself, Ron and Sheryl (David's step mom who was helping arrange flights). In one of my emails to Sheryl that I wanted to loop Ron into, I clicked the wrong email...you see, Ron's first name is David, and that's how he's listed in my contacts. I clicked the wrong David! My David got a rambling email about airports, flights...meant nothing to him until he found one line about Bucs tickets. I stink at surprises. But I'm still really happy that my favorite guy is going to enjoy his favorite team with his favorite fellow Buccaneers fan. I hope in the coming years they become a trio, with Luke following in their Bucs-loving footsteps.

If I was a drinkin' woman, I would be quite certain I was drunk during this morning's post. I just re-read it, and found enough typos to question my sobriety and level of cognition at the time of posting. That really burns me up...I had extra letters all over the place. Just had to let you all know that I am sober. I posted between kindergarten and preschool drop off, which is unusual but I had to get that haircut issue of my chest, I think my haste lead to carelessness.

I believe I have corrected my errors. Spell check would like "loveseat" to be two words, but I'm sticking with one.

I made good on a threat last night, and I've got to be honest, it doesn't feel quite as good as I thought it would. I thought it would enable me to bask in the self-appreciation of my parenting consistency, really up my credentials as a mom who follows through, but it kinda stinks. Not really feeling so good about it.

About 9 or 10 months ago, Lily decided she wanted long hair...long, "tangly" hair like Courtney. Courtney is our beautiful 17 year old cousin who does indeed have lovely long hair. By tangly, Lily meant scrunched, and unfortunately one needs some wave or curl to pull off that look. So forgetting the scrunching, we agreed that Lily could work at growing long hair. But we made a deal...long hair must stay out of the mouth, be kept out of her face, brushed frequently, blow-dried before bed, and fixed with barrettes or pulled up or back for school. This has been quite a struggle. It's this big "thing" between us, just the two of us, because she will absolutely let other people brush and fix her hair. It's maddening how she refuses this from me only. I can't even tell you how many times I've said, If you don't get a better attitude about having your hair brushed and fixed, we're getting it cut. I never, ever wanted short hair to be "punishment" I just wanted her to obey, trust I knew what was best, concede to what I was asking, hold up her end of the deal...something like that. When the child's hair is clean and brushed out, or pulled up, it is beautiful. She has highlights to die for, or at the very least pay for...as many women do. Her hair is bone straight, soft and shiny. When properly cared for, it's every mother's dream for her little girls tresses. But most days you'll find her running around with this stringy mess of straw, stiff ends from being chewed, a total mess! All ponytail holders and barrettes return from school in her back pack, she never keeps her hair styled for more than 15-20 minutes. This has grieved beyond words. I can't really tell you why. Maybe because I always had short hair as a little girl and dreamed of long locks for my only daughter, only to find this to be one of our biggest struggles. Maybe it feels like my failure to be unable to conquer this beast of hair care, an area of defiance that I could not break. I didn't like threatening to resort to drastic measures because I could not manage my child's behavior. Why couldn't I just make her brush and fix her hair properly? Why was that so hard?

So that brings me to yesterday, and the days leading up to it. Friday she refused any styling before school, Saturday I pulled the sides back in barrettes for a baby shower only for her to bring me the barrettes 5 minutes after we arrived, Sunday is always a headache in the hair department and yesterday, another rough school morning all the way around with the hair issue being the icing on the cake.

After school I gave her time to relax and snack and then dropped the bomb, we were going to get a haircut. I tried to explain that a haircut was not punishment but it was the result of her disregard and disrespect for the responsibilities of long hair. She sobbed, yelled irrational statements, and then fell asleep on the loveseat. When she woke up, I casually asked, Ready to get a haircut? To which she responded, Let's go after dinner. I agreed. She never fussed about it again. She sat in the stylist's chair as if it was her idea. She says she's very happy with her new do, so why aren't I? I got what I wanted, right? But I just feel bummed. Don't get me wrong, I think she looks like a little doll...cute as can be. I just wish it hadn't come as a result of months of anguish over her hair. If you've spent any length of time with me you've heard me lament over her stringy mess of hair...hair that had such great potential. This morning was indeed easier, with the short hair, she can brush it out herself...with long hair, she always missed the back and ends. No barrettes or ponytails needed.

Here are a couple of pics. She looks young to me now, very sweet and innocent. I only wish it hadn't come to this...but I'm glad she's not taking it as hard as I am.

I just received this email:

What if......... you wrote a new blog????
I am sure your mama is a lovely lady worthy of a blog post that stays up all week long, however, I am a very faithful What If blog reader and I need some new stuff!!!

Must be time to post!

Today is my Mama's birthday. Here are some things I'd like you to know about her:

Her favorite channel to watch is the Weather Channel, she can tell you the projected forecast for a week from Tuesday in Anywhere, USA. And she's a little concerned about it.

She does not like noise, crowds and especially noisy crowds.

When she laughs hard, her entire upper body moves, as she covers her mouth with her little hand...she has very little hands. I wish I'd have gotten her dainty hands, I have man hands.

She loves and takes care of my Daddy like nobody's business. I've known people to give her grief over her submission and dedication to my Dad, they would not be people who have been happily married for 30 years.

She wrote From: Santa Claus on our Christmas gift tags, well into our adult years.

A lot of things make my mom nervous, but she'd kill a lion with her bare hands if it messed with her babies...or she may shoot it with a BB gun, either way she'd make sure her family was safe.

I am her youngest baby, well, by birth. But she's mama'd a lot of other babies too.

She likes to play cards.

Her favorite color is blue.

Her name is June and I was born in the month of June. That really doesn't mean anything, just is what it is, but I've always liked that about us.

She loves Tim Allen movies, and that silly guy who used to say "Know what I mean, Vern?" She has been known to embarrass her family at the movies with an odd cackle. But she does not go to the movies often (once a decade?), noise and crowds.

She is over the top over my kids. And I like it that way. For their well being, I can't be so accommodating, they would be ruined, but it works for her. I think every child needs someone (but not everyone!) to treat them like the sun rises and sets for them alone. She's that person for my kids.

My Mama always expressed her affection verbally and physically, I've heard a lot of I Love Yous, gotten lots of hugs and kisses and she calls me My baby when we talk on the phone.

My mom isn't perfect, she knows it...she's quirky about the weather, our safety, our weather safety :)...among other things. But I can say what every child should be able to say which is when I have needed my mama, she has been there. No exception. That is a constant throughout my life, but it has been especially noted in my adulthood, because she doesn't have to be anymore. When my first baby was born and I was having a tough time. When ends don't meet. When Luke was sick, even here, she traveled back and forth, 600 miles.

If you see my Mama today, wish her a Happy Birthday.

I just spent the past hour and a half reading blogs and leaving comments on every one I read, two on some. Takes a lot longer that way...I'm exhausted.

Monday night was the first installment of "Momtourage"...a bi-monthly, book-club type gathering of a women, that I had the pleasure of being invited to join. I can remember very clearly the moment I read the first email with vague details of what the "founders" were planning...my heart fluttered. Corny, I know. And I certainly didn't need one more thing. One more night out of the house, one more book to read, one more "group"...but I needed this. God knew I needed this. I'm at a very transitional time in my life as I'm being stretched in almost every area of my life: as a wife, a mother, in ministry...stretched doesn't have to be a bad thing, but it leaves me sore, achy. And the women organizing the group certainly weren't looking for one more thing either. Marybeth, with her 6 children, Kelly with her 4, Dawn and Jess, both with 3 of their own...all leading very full lives, not needing a time filler by any stretch of the imagination. So why start something like this? It was obvious that the Lord lead these women to begin such a journey, inviting a handful of us along according to His purpose. There was nothing accidental about this gathering.

Not all good ideas or groups or events are opportunities God wants me to personally commit too, I've had to learn that lesson the hard way, but this spoke to my heart in a way only He can. And every detail fell into place according to His design, even the night of the week and the weeks of the month on which the group will meet. That doesn't mean hurdles didn't pop up...sick kids, David's flat tire, running late to get out the door...but I've never doubted that God Himself was the ultimate Organizer of this gathering, and I felt humbled and honored that this was His loving answer to a need in my life.

I was so psyched to hang out with friends like Brandi, Kelly and Jess and get to know others like Marybeth and Dawn better. There were a couple women I didn't know at all and I was even excited to make new friends. Can I get any cornier? This isn't even my typical outlook on gatherings such as this, but I had such a receptive heart. I was even looking forward to reading the "assigned" book. I just wanted to soak in every aspect of this evening, and the evenings to come.

As we found a seat around Kelly's comfy family room, Jess opened the group in prayer. Some of the first words out of her mouth were a heartfelt invitation to the Lord to join our gathering, and then with expectation of His presence, she thanked Him for coming among us.

Oh. He's coming? How did I miss that? How did I, all along, know that God was designing this evening, personally involved in drawing every woman there, and yet I missed the fact that He Himself would join us. I had reduced His role to "Event Coordinator" and overlooked that fact that He wasn't simply leading this group of women to spend time together, He was leading this group of women to spend time together with Him. Thank you, Jesus.

And thank you, Jess, for knowing that this evening was about far more than the group of us feeding off one another, it was about drinking from His Well. Between all the details and planning, thank you for remembering that His presence was the true purpose, and through Him, we are able to trust one another, be vulnerable, laugh and cry, feel unity, feel safe, feel loved. Through Him those things were accomplished. His presence immediately set the tone of unguarded freedom and friendship. Wow.

This really opened my eyes. As I think of the good and godly things I immerse myself in, even lead, I have to ask myself, have I reduced Him to a consultant/coordinator position in my life, many times to "Assistant Coordinator" as I attempt to handle all details myself? I can't really reduce God, but I can limit His ability to work through me and those around me by failing to welcome, invite, expect and acknowledge His presence. I miss out and I'm sorry to say that those I bring together, like my family, my small group and my ministry team, miss out too. He is a hands-on, even hands-dirty, kind of God. Why do I, by my actions, keep Him at arms length?

Thanks Momtourage. I've got a lot to learn, thank you for welcoming the ultimate Teacher.

I very recently prayed these words (or something similiar):

Lord, I won't to get my hopes up, I trust you enough to know that if this isn't the solution we've been looking for, that You have another plan, You know better than I do so God I just won't get my hopes up for this. I trust you to provide the solution...

See what I did there? I expressed my deep trust in God by resolving myself to not get high hopes when presented with an opportunity that might be an answer to a specific area of prayer in my life...because I know it might not be the answer, so being the great woman of faith I am (?), I'll trust God to open and close the right doors, and in the mean time, I'll stay neutral.

Pretty good, huh?

So why did God bring this verse to mind? Regardless of translation, two words are consistent: faith and hope. I like the word "substance" in the KJV. To me, this verse says that my hope, and putting action to that hope, substance, is faith. So by deduction, lacking hope as a means of self protection, and even a misguided demonstration of faith, is not. My intentions were good, I really do trust God, and I don't want to imply to Him that I might think I know best by really getting excited about one thing, insinuating I think I know what's best. But you know what? God doesn't need my help discerning my heart or motives. He is not capable of misunderstanding or assuming or falling prey to false implications. He does know best, and He knows that He knows best, and doesn't need me to reassure Him of such. And His word says, Hope. Put action to that hope. Trust Him with my hope. That's faith.

How many milestones can one mama manage?

Lily lost her first tooth today. We were not sure if she accepted Visa debit cards or IOUs, so we made a run to the ATM and then had to break it at a gas station to get $1 bills for the Tooth Fairy's first visit.

What next?

It's Sunday morning, about 10am...and I'm at home. Home!? It's tempting to feel that I should be 10 miles away, in a turquoise Ekidz Tshirt, clipboard in hand, greeting new families and making sure our volunteers are in place to serve the hundreds of kids that will filter in and out of Safari, Quest and Motion. But my next thought is, I'm exactly where I should be, taking care of the only two kids who call me Mom, both sick, both exhausted from a busy week, both needing my full attention today.

If there is one question I've asked myself and God probably 100 times as I see our single women, like Jessi, Lindsey, Shannon and Laura, pour themselves into the Ekidz ministry tirelessly it's this: What if I'd had the opportunity to serve God at this level before I had kids. What if He'd called me to this ministry before I was a mom. Why did He wait? I could've, would've, should've done so much more...but now I am divided. I am serving under two callings of ministry, of wife and mom and of Quest Director, both deserving excellence. Which one suffers, and does one have too?

I've always been active in church, as a teen, as a newlywed...as a teen newlywed, before I had babies, and as my babies have grown. But in the past year I have been presented with more of a dilemma, as I attempt to serve the ever changing needs of my family while maintaining a higher level of responsibility in volunteer ministry than I ever have before. Both are of God, both are commitments He has called me to now, simultaneously. And here's the clincher: both are roles I am passionate about. Please hear my heart, I am neither whining nor pitying myself over these responsibilities. Being a mom to Lily and Luke and a wife to David is my dream come true. As I snuggled with my little ones this morning, coughing in my face, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with how much I love my kids, how honored I am to be the one to care for them, in sickness and in health. And David hated to leave us this morning, he wasn't dashing out the door, thrilled to spend the day around excitement and healthy people, he was bummed to leave us behind...I am crazy about that fella. Now balance that with the fact that I am truly saddened to miss the excitement of Ekidz...the smiling kids, the silly songs, and today a puppet of Zacchaeus saying "Give me your money..." I was counting on hearing the kids laugh at that exchange between a pushy puppet and our Large Group teacher. I love being a part of it all, seeing all the details come together.

You know it's easy to distinguish a balance of the worldly and motherhood..., it's a no-brainer that I should turn off my DVR'd Grey's episode when Luke asks me to play game with him or step away from my email when Lily wants to read a book. It's so much harder to balance the good and Godly. How much is too much?

But what if being a good mom makes me a better servant in my church ministries. And that's why He's called me to such now. I have compassion and humility that I lacked 5 years ago. It is very possible that had I been called to this level of children's ministry before I was a mom, I would have blown it. My lack of compassion towards that crying 3 year old and his parents, or even my ego could have prevented me from seeing nose wiping as ministry. God loves every snotty nose. I understand that much more now. And conversely, being in that role, pouring myself into Christ's service, is something I want my kids to see. I want them to know God instilled gifts in me that He desires I use for His kingdom. And want them to love the body of Christ.

But balance can still be a problem, at least for me. I have control issues and power issues and an inability to ask for help that can really give me problems. For this to work I have to recognize two major things: 1.God's resources are unlimited, mine are not. and 2.He has surrounded me with people willing and able to help so that I can fulfill His calling in my life. It honors neither God nor my family for me to be a worn out martyr who attempts to do it all. People will suffer, and I will be one of them.

So this morning I called Shannon without a doubt she'll get the job done with Lindsey along side. These young women are equipped with a level of spiritual maturity I lacked at that age, and because they do have fewer family commitments, we make a good team. I stayed home, made pancakes and dispensed medicines. Their day will come, when husbands and sick kids place new demands on them. But God will provide a talented single or empty-nester to help carry the load. I can think of a few He's raising up right now.

I also know that God loves both my family and His church more than I do. The very best thing I can do is stay in step with Him, sensitive to His direction, and if I do that, He will guide me in such a manner that prevents damage to either. I have learned that lesson the hard way.

But it still feels strange to be home on a Sunday.

It's official...we have survived, actually thrived during our first week of school. I know, I know this is quite a feat, it's not like hundreds of thousands of other moms pull this off everyday.

Luke's latest wild story involves a spider, an electrical cord and a "fixer-man"...I'm assuming he means an electrician. It's a very good story, a very bad spider.

I swept enough of my own hair off the bathroom floor to build a Wookiee. How am I not bald?

A young gentleman has already asked Lily for her phone number. Seriously. But you know it's innocent when he does it with both me and his own mom nearby.

I'm looking for a part time job, 12 hours a week or so. Anyone hiring? I'm multi-talented, but have very little upper body strength so no manual labor please. Really, any takers?

I just read Holly's blog which mentioned her son Elijah's love for the Round-Up song. Thanks Holly, I'll be singing it all night...this is the hook up, to get us shook up...

When lamenting over the heartache of my kids starting school, I overlooked how easy bedtime becomes when your children wake up at 6:20am. Very nice. It's about that time...gotta go.

As I begin this post, I know that what I'm trying to relay isn't going to be nearly as funny in this format as it was to hear in person. But I've got to try.

If you read the last post you'll know that Luke ended up having a great day at school yesterday. When I picked him up, he jabbered on and on about digging in the sand and playing with friends...all the things an anxious mom would want to hear. But David got a very different story...

According to Luke, he used a shovel to build a volcano in the sand at the playground...okay, that sounds good. But then the volcano erupted and shot a rocket into the air. The rocket hit and killed a chicken. The kids then went into the street to shoot other chickens with real guns.

David stopped him at this point to ask if he went into the street without a grown-up.(Yes, this is the part David questioned!?!)

Of course David acted relieved to hear adults did accompany the kids into the street, according to Luke they watched for cars while the kids shot the chickens.

When David questioned the use of guns, Luke changed his story to fake chickens and water guns...but still in the street.

It was wild to hear Luke tell this story and to watch David follow along as if he was buying it. Up to this point Luke has never expressed much of a wild imagination or boyish fascination with guns or violence. Maybe I should be concerned about the lying or violence against animals, but at this point, I'm just entertained.

So maybe I don't have a smiling, happy drop off picture...but a smile after preschool is surely better than any smile before. The child I picked up at 1pm was not the same little guy I left in shambles at 9am. Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Ms. Sheila.

He hopped in the vehicle, grinning ear to ear, and said,
I had fun! Can I come back to school?

Sure, how about tomorrow?


Since then I have heard about big shovels on the playground for digging in the sand, snack time, lunch time, a boy in a baseball shirt who is a new friend, a toy phone he used to call Lily and let her know he was okay, and a train.


I think a smile at the end of the school day is what really counts!

David had planned to join us for Lily's first day of kindergarten. He's great about making their milestones a priority. But with last week's sick day and this week's holiday, it wasn't a good morning to take off. He's got a great job, great boss and coworkers, and he doesn't take that for granted or take advantage, so he went on to work and wished me good luck. But I know he checks my blog, so here are a few pics so he doesn't have to wait until 6pm to see how it went.

We made it just in time! Yes, Luke is in PJs. I chose my battles wisely this morning, not the day to pick that fight.

Seated at her desk, wondering why we're still hanging around...

A quick goodbye hug to brother...

I know the grandparents in Florida will be anxious to see these pics as well. I do not have pics of Luke's first preschool drop off. It was not a Kodak moment. I'm not quite ready to talk about it. But here's a quick God is good moment. After an extremely painful drop off experience with Luke, I went to work out. I was not attractive with my swollen eyes and red nose, trust me, you'd have cried too, but I had to do something to stay busy. Where I work out is right by Lily's school, and can you guess what class was on the playground as I drove by? Yeah, Lily's. Of all the times, of all the classes, there she was...and the playground is her favorite place. I needed that moment. She was handing something to her teacher, if she hadn't been off to the side like that I'd have missed seeing her. The scene looked so natural like she'd been going to kindergarten her whole life.

Standing in Luke's preschool bathroom sobbing after he was peeled off of me screaming, I couldn't help but wonder why my prayers for God's intervention in that situation had gone seemingly unheard. I still don't know why this has to be so hard, but I am certain God has been with us all morning and He remains vigilant over Lily and Luke as well. That's His promise, not that things will be easy, but that He will always be there. And if we keep our eyes open, He gives us playground moments when we need them most.

And David, it was the big playground, not the "baby" one she fussed about last week!

I firmly believe that the easiest way to counteract negativity is to think happy thoughts. Nothing weird like the "I am loving and capable" chant that one of my ninth grade teachers had us recite, but honest reflection on my blessings in life and the simple things that make me smile. Not only does it lift the fog that settles in my spirit but it also glorifies God when I acknowledge His goodness and it pleases Him for me to have a heart of thanksgiving. I've got the blues tonight, I'm sure you get that from my last post. But here are a few things from today that I just can't help but smile about.

Tonight we worked on an "All About Me" project for Luke's preschool. That in itself was sweet time. For "What I Want to Be When I Grow Up" he drew a baseball and bat and told me he wants to play for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. He then told me he wanted to send the picture to his Pa and was very irritated when I told him it had to go to school since it was homework.

I paid $8 today for my family to ride a John Deere lawnmower disguised as a train, turning circles in a parking lot. Can I get a witness from any other Matthews Alive attendee? What we do for the love of our children!

David disappeared for a few minutes tonight and returned with milkshakes for just the two of us.

Monday holidays are the best...they make Sundays even more enjoyable and I love Tuesdays that feel like Mondays and then I'm pleasantly surprised to remember it's really Tuesday.

Lily moussed her own hair last night with "two snowmen" and woke up this morning with an outrageously funny fro!

Off to bed, another thing that makes me happy.

Labor Day, the unofficial end of summer. This year, also, the unofficial end of life as I know it. Too dramatic? Maybe, but maybe not.

And I'm not feeling so well. I could blame it on a few different things, like those tacos for dinner, but if my mom were here she would remind me that I've always gotten a stomach-ache the night before the first day of school. And tomorrow is a very big first first day of school. Lily is ready, Luke's not so sure, I'm the least convinced of anyone. Tomorrow at 7am, I'll say my goodbyes to her, entrusting her to a woman I have met for 20 minutes. At 9am, I'll do the same for him. But I will not let them hear me whine or see me cry (I'll save it for the drive home). The very last thing I want either of them to know is that Mommy isn't nearly as happy about the "big day" as she puts on. Selfishly, I wonder What now? After 5 years, what am I supposed to do now? Luke will only be gone for four hours four days a week, that's a small window in the grand scheme of things but a huge change for lives that have been so intertwined. I hope in the span of his long life, these first four years are just a drop in the bucket, but for now, it is his entire existence. I have been at his side for his entire existence. I remember much less fret over Lily's first day of preschool, but to her, school was a coveted experience. She'd been asking to go to school since she was 2 and I remember feeling happy for her, sad for me, but happy for her. Her excitement over preschool and now kindergarten is antidote to my anxiety. Luke lacks that enthusiasm, so I maintain the dread. I feel like preschool for him is a necessary evil. Much like getting immunizations, you know it's best, but it's still so hard to do.

So you're probably sick of reading me lament over my kids starting school. I don't blame you. But sick of reading about it? I'm sick of feeling it. I'm tired of all emotional roads leading to school and separation anxiety and the what ifs associated with all of this. I wish I could just shift my focus to something else. I wish I didn't feel like life as I know it ends tonight at midnight, and a new era of early wake-up, early bedtime, daily goodbyes, packing lunches, homework, and all the rest becomes our new lifestyle with or without my readiness. The change isn't necessarily a bad one, but it is indeed a change. I don't really like change. I like routine, I like comfort, I like same ol' thing.

Alright. I'm done. I don't really feel done, but it's time to wrap up. It's time to acknowledge that sending them to school is as much a part of my motherhood experience as anything else. Their teachers and new friends are sure to be blessed by knowing them. They are fun, fantastic kids with much to offer the world. Why is it so hard to keep that in mind?

I'll post tomorrow how great everything went and then we'll all move on, deal?

With two children, 12 months apart, the backpack diaper bag became an instant hit in our home. If I was alone with the kids, I could have the backpack on my back, and a kid on each hip, or one on the hip while I held hands with the other, or both toddling bedside me holding my hands and I didn't have to worry that a regular shoulder style diaper bag would at any minute shift off my shoulder and take a kid out. If David was with me, he would sling the tan backpack over one shoulder and never complain...it was manly enough. As the kids grew, the necessary baggage began to shrink. We no longer needed as much paraphernalia.The diaper bag backpack evolved to a super cute, slightly smaller, googly-eyed frog backpack. My bud, Amy, gave Luke this adorable frog bag for Christmas last year and it became a family favorite as well. If you've been anywhere with us in the past year, you've probably seen Froggy. He's big enough for hand sanitizer, extra underwear, and my keys, yet small enough that when my hands are full, I can ask Luke to share the load and sling Froggy on his back...practical and very cute. Froggy is well traveled, from cars to airplanes, up and down the East coast.