What if...

Driving me a little bit crazy...

Maaaaaa-maa, c'mere! On the other side of that call, there is always a bottom to be wiped or a spill to be cleaned.

Where is my Michael Buble CD? Anyone, anyone? David, did you hide it? Did I make you listen to Home ten too many times? When will I see it again? Tell me cuando, cuando, cuando?

The dog's breath smells like something died in her mouth. What on earth do I do for that? I can barely keep up with my children's oral hygiene, much less the boxer's.

David's late nights. One more week to go.

I met my best friend for lunch today. The atmosphere was somewhat chaotic, the food left much to be desired and our time together was rushed, but I savored her company. Many times when we're together it seems I'm asking her to fit into my world, keep up at my pace, work around my schedule...but today I stepped into her world. And she was glowing. She flashed her smile at everyone that passed and spoke to many people by name. I didn't know she even knew so many people. She said she was "so glad I came" and she asked what'd I'd been doing today. I'm not ashamed to say I really love her affirmation and attention and it seems moments like that are few and far between.

Lunch at an elementary school with my kindergartner. I'm only left to wonder why I don't do it more often.

Like the new glittery Erin (to the right)? It was a gift. The new trend in gift giving: blog bling. It's the gift that keeps on giving.

Clearly, I did not get a chance to blog on Thanksgiving night what my "Top 5" end of day items were. And now, it's really just too late. As I try and think back on Thursday evening as we wrapped up the holiday, my perspective is tainted by the fact that 2 additional days have past and they have been interesting days, for lack of a better adjective. I really don't know what my "Top 5" would have been, but I know what tops my list today.

So this may not be my end of day "Top 5" as intended, and I'll try my hardest not to be too wordy or sappy but on this holiday weekend, and every other day of the year, I am so thankful for my people. I'm so thankful just to know I have them.

Tuesday a friend called needing a little help as she cared for her husband and children, all sick with a stomach bug. Thursday we received a late night call from another friend sitting in the ER with her husband; she was in need of help with their young son as she also tended to the needs of her sick husband. Yesterday in Florida, a family friend suddenly lost her 28 year old seemingly healthy husband. Tragic. There are really no words to do justice to the emotions, fear, exhaustion and pain associated with sickness, death, tragedy. Life can be so hard. You gotta have people. Good people. Supportive people. Truth-speaking people. Hold your hand or hold your baby people. Stop what they're doing people. Lose a little sleep people. Not a burden people. Say the right thing people. Just listen people. Tell you like it is people. Take care of details people. Feed your kids people. Make sure you eat a good meal people. Clean your house people. Carry your load people. Praying to God people.

I'm so thankful, more than this blog can express thankful, to know I have that kind of people on my side. Thanks, to all my people. And if you don't think you have people like that, give me a call...you've got me, and I'm that kind of people.

1. I'm thankful my kids slept through the night, in their own beds. This is especially appreciated since the night before they both came down at 2:15am (unusual for them to come together) and the rest of the night was a blur of blanket tugging and rib jabbing. Not only did I get a much better night's sleep but it also gave me the opportunity to wake up right next to my hubby and *snuggle* a bit.
2. I'm thankful for comp'ny...that's what we call house guests where I'm from :) Sure I stress in the days leading up about whether or not the pantry is stocked and if the house is ready, (and this year I was so focused on getting all the necessities for "the" meal, I overlooked the other 12 meals we'll need). Regardless, we can't make it "home" nearly as often as we'd like, so it's awfully nice when a little bit of "home" comes here. We don't take it lightly, 600 miles is a bit of a drive, we appreciate our comp'ny!
3. I'm thankful for our new house. I still like to say new house. Sure it was 10 years old when we bought it and we've been here 6 months, but it's still new to me, and I love it! Makes having comp'ny a little nicer too. Last Thanksgiving we piled 6 adults, 2 dogs and 2 kids into our 2 bedroom apartment for the holiday weekend, loved it then, love it more in a house! Seriously, I am thankful for our home.
4. I'm thankful for coffee. I'm about 3 minutes from heading into the kitchen for a hot cup of goodness. I started drinking coffee when I was 22, working in an elementary school that always seemed 10 degrees too cold. Then, coffee became a necessary evil to warm my body temp so I could function. Now, coffee is my friend.
5. I'm thankful for blogging. I would run out of cell phone minutes if I tried to call all my friends and family to tell them this Top 5. Not to mention how many friends I'd lose by awakening them on a day off at 7:30am to ramble about my sleeping habits and coffee drinking!

I hope in the next two days I find ample time to blog between house guests and holiday hustle, because I have so much I want to say on the subject of thankfulness that I can't squeeze it into one post. Here is my first:

The Bible tells me that I am fully known. I personally do not fully know anything (except about the moon and dinonsaurs...he,he) but one day I will fully know my God just as He knows me. Face to face. Until then, I am so thankful just to be fully known. It is freedom. If this were not the case, I would work hard to protect my dark, depraved, not so nice, fiery-tempered side. I also would work hard to show my loving, generous, witty side. Life would be a never-ending balancing act. But He knows me, all of me, so I am free. Not free to just be as ugly as I want, but there is such freedom in being loved unconditionally. I hope it makes sense to say I am thankful that my Lord knows just how warped I am, because proving myself otherwise is exhausting. I know for a fact.

When we moved here almost 2 years ago, I expected to face being homesick, getting lost on the unfamiliar streets, learning to accept new TV weathermen and anchors. I didn't expect the deep insecurity that comes with being "unknown." And I don't mean known in the community, as if I'm famous, I just mean known by the people I spend each day with. People who know my quirks, get my jokes, know my history. I came from a tight-knit community made up of family and friends I had known for decades. They knew me, and they loved me as unconditionally as flawed humans can. They knew my strengths and weaknesses, we had inside jokes, it was easy to be vulnerable. There was great comfort and trust in being surrounded by people that really knew me.

I have been truly blessed with a phenomenal group of peers here in NC, far more peers than I ever had back "home." In Florida, my own mom was the only stay-at-home-mom I hung out with, and needless to say, she didn't have little ones anymore. Here, I have the great pleasure of sharing life with many other women in my same life stage. It's a great experience for me and the kids. I've also had the pleasure of getting to know people in the life stages just ahead of mine, they offer wisdom and guidance, and again, it's been a great experience. But I have to admit, in getting to know people and allowing them to get to know me, I have battled the demon of insecurity harder than any other. To prove myself worthy, to prove I am smart and funny and a good mom and a strong believer and a hard worker, and on and on and on. I have been met with tremendous love and acceptance, but I've felt such insecurity rooted in feeling "unknown." I've faced circumstances where had someone known me better, that wouldn't have been assumed, that wouldn't have been said, I wouldn't have been doubted. I'm willing to concede this battle is much of my own doing, my own creation. I doubt I've met a single person waiting on pins and needles for me to prove myself, and if I have, I don't need that relationship anyway.

I share that battle to say, it is exhausting and unsettling to feel unknown, to feel no one really gets me or knows the real me. And as I have fought that battle learning to live in a new place, I have gained a new appreciation, a new gratitude for what it means to be fully known by my Savior. I'm also thankful that I do indeed have peer-relationships that have crossed the line into friendships where I feel vulnerable and loved and valued. God has been so faithful to provide safe relationships. So again, foremost by my God, but also by loved ones, friends and family, I am thankful to be known.

About two weeks ago, David asked what I would be willing to cook for him to take to his Thanksgiving dinner at work. I listed 4 or 5 choices and he picked mashed potatoes. He rarely comments on my cooking, good or bad, so I was pleased to know he enjoys my homemade mashed potatoes enough to share with his coworkers. My joy over the potato-making was short lived.

All you cooks out there can shake your head in dismay, but I thought all potatoes were created equal. Now of course I know the difference in a red potato, white potato and sweet potato but as far as which white potatoes boil up best to be mashed, I knew no difference. I bought the cheapest potatoes I could find yesterday....and the mashed potatoes turned out terrible! No matter what I did, the potatoes were too firm. The flavor was okay but the texture was all wrong so I finally (after much effort) gave up on batch #1 and made a run to the grocery store for better potatoes. The unused batch is going to the freezer, I may attempt to doctor them up into a cream of potato soup in the near future. The new batch turned out fine, but at what cost? Between the two batches, I have dirtied every dish and spoon in my kitchen. While boiling batch #2, something that spilled on the burner a couple days ago caught fire and set off my smoke alarms, upsetting the dog. Now my house is filled with smokey, smelly haze, I have a mountain of potato smeared dishes to clean and I have to deliver the potatoes to David's work since they first batch wasn't decent enough for him to take this morning.

All this and house guests headed this way later today! I really don't have time to be blogging, but I had to have an outlet before I exploded. Now I can go on with my day.

Maybe to you "neighborhood drama" means loud parties or a risque yard sale (actually saw one of those today) but not in our 'hood...I'm talking drama, as in theatrical. A third grade neighbor has decided to write a Christmas play and wants all the kids on our street participate. It's turned into quite the situation as my two refuse to participate leaving the parts of one wise man and a cow un-acted. Today in our mailbox we received a typed script and a marker drawing of the necessary costumes. Again, Lily and Luke refuse to participate but she's not giving up. She conned them a little today by asking if they'd just stand in for other children who weren't available for "rehearsal" hoping they'd decide to join the fun. Her plan backfired when her older brother came out and informed her that her script isn't Biblically correct, causing a front yard screaming match. Tis the season. My two little ones, who dread confrontation, high-tailed it home. No Mary and Joesph baby-mama drama for them.

I've been thinking a lot about laughter lately...trying to figure out why I don't laugh as much a I used to. There's this dull headache I get at the base of my skull when I laugh really hard and my mascara smudges on my cheeks because, well, I have big cheeks that touch my eyes when I laugh. Seems like I haven't had many make-up smudging, headache causing moments lately.

Now, I can't say I don't remember the last time I laughed really hard because I do...Monday night, I made a dumb comment about a radio show I used to listen to...a dedication request...a Boys II Men song...wasn't that funny, but it must have hit Jess just right because she really laughed, which made me really laugh, and then we both just laughed to the point of tears. Along with the 4 other women in the room...not sure if they were laughing at the comment or us, either way, it was the kind of laughter I've been missing. The kind of laugh where I pinch my nose to avoid a snort and hope I don't pee my pants. Yes, I said it...laughing, sneezing, trampoline jumping...a couple pregnancies can do that to a gal.

I have much joy in my life...sweet kids, a hubby I adore, good friends...I'm not lacking things that bring me joy. But it just seems like I don't laugh like I used to, at least not lately. Either I'm not as funny, or the people I'm hanging around aren't. Ecclesiastes 3 says there is a season for everything, laughter included (vs.4). Apparently, I'm just not in a season of laughter, but one will come again, soon I hope. In the mean time, I'll just turn on an episode of The Office and get my jollies that way.

I have several things floating around in my brain to post about today, and maybe I will a little later, but with yesterday's post, I thought sharing this morning's backseat conversation was appropriate (and cute!):

As we drove past the VFW on the way to Lily's school:

Luke: Lil, that's where I went to see the um...um...what is it, Mom?

Me: The memorial?

Luke: Yeah, the memorial, for people who died.

Lily: I know Lukey, you've told me a hundred times.

Luke: It's for the war, Pa was in the war, he's a ve...ve...

Me: Veteran.

Luke: Veteran.

Lily: So he's old?

Yesterday, Veteran's Day, was the 25th anniversary of the Vietnam Wall in DC. I recently took Luke to the "Moving" Wall when it traveled to our town. I explained to him, as best I could, the significance of the wall, and how his Pa, my dad, was a Vietnam Veteran. He told me he was glad his Pa's name wasn't on that wall.

We are blessed to be born Americans, but we did not acquire our liberties without cost. Someone paid our price. Such great love.

To all veterans, to my veterans: my dad, my brother, my husband, and to the men and women serving today, thank you.

As I was signing Luke into his preschool yesterday, I overheard one mom (dragging in two boys) saying to another mom (accompanied by a precious blond girl) It must be fun to dress little girls, to which the mom replied enthusiastically, Yes, it is!

Ahhh, I remember those days! We didn't find out the sex of our first baby until the moment she popped out...and although it wasn't the first thing on my mind, it didn't take long for the excitement of dressing a little girl to build. We had packed only unisex things for the hospital and had received mostly unisex items at the showers (I say mostly because a couple people bought "girl" because they had a feeling!) but within hours of her birth, gifts of pink began pouring in. I believe Rhonda, (see two posts down), takes the prize for Lily's first dress, dainty pale pink with matching bonnet, accompanied by her first baby doll, all while we were still in the hospital. In her first few months, I would often change her clothes 3-4 times a day just to get use out of all the adorable outfits she was quickly outgrowing. Not only was she fun to dress, she was fun to buy for...pink and frilly or denim and trendy, either way, I, like many moms, took great pleasure in dressing my daughter. I knew a week in advance what she would wear to church. I knew months in advance what she would wear on a holiday: Easter, Christmas, Mother's Day. Oh, how I wish it was like that today!

Lily allowed me to pick out her clothes until this school year began. I don't know exactly what happened when, but she has stopped letting me use her as my life-size doll. The nerve! Today, as I dropped her off for school, I just shook my head to watch my mismatched daughter head into the building...fuchsia tights with a black shirt, not too bad. Add to that white socks, brown shoes, a turquoise hoodie, pink gloves and suddenly, I no longer want to take credit for her attire. She's always had a flair for the mismatched...when left to choose her own clothes she would put different prints together and snow boots would complete the ensemble. But she has always let me pick the "important" stuff...you know, the out-in-public wardrobe. This school year started off on the right foot. Mimi took all the grandkids school shopping and Lily picked out cargo capris, embellished denim, cute tops. Weeks one and two of school she wore each outfit, selected daily by mom, with no fuss. Then week three rolled around, fatigue was setting in, and I think she just decided enough was enough...she was dressing her way, take it or leave it. And "soft clothes" became the new phrase in our home. Soft clothes: cotton leggings, elastic waistbands, roomy shirts. A couple Hanes legging outfits from Walmart, a few hand-me downs from Gymboree, some Old Navy fleece that still fits from last year...we're making this "soft clothes" thing work. I'm hanging on to the embellished denim and cargo pants hoping she'll add those back in soon but in the mean time, we're piecing together outfits that don't itch or bind...some days successfully, other days, not so much.

But here's my confession, as much as it makes me want to bash my head into the wall, I'm also really proud of her! Kindergarten is not too young for peer pressure and you don't hear many kids at school saying "soft clothes are the coolest" nor do you see Hannah Montana sporting Hanes on stage, so despite our current trends and role models, Lily is choosing comfort. And I'm just trying to help her balance comfort with style.

We've got a long road ahead of us...tween years, teen years. It's actually funny to think that the same things (outfits, clothing, shopping) that bring mommies such joy in the early months and years will bring such strife as our daughters grow.

Happy Anniversary, Harry and Rhonda! I'm going to say 24 years?? Yes, or 25? Don't they look way too young to have been married that long!? I wouldn't believe it myself had I not been there...I was their flower girl!

I grew up lovin' on their three children and it's been fun to watch their not-so-little-anymore children (ages 14, 17, 19) love on mine. It's a sweet circle...they were a part of our daily lives in Florida.

Today I'm just hanging with my main man Luke (still in rocket PJs) and our friend Gideon, the mighty warrior napper. The air is cool, the sky is "Tar Heel" blue and a pot of chili is simmering on the stove. The fact that it's Friday is just icing. The fact that an extra hour will magically appear in our weekend schedule is almost more than I can stand.

Here's a Friday funny that may turn into a Friday fight if this embarrasses David, but he didn't even flinch at the pom-pom pic so I'm thinking he's just cool like that...

Have you seen the KFC commercial where the guy runs over the speed bump to test the new KFC triple dip chicken strips pack? (Three strips that come with 3 sauces that neatly tuck into a box for maximum portability) To the relief of everyone in the car, the triple dip pack withstands the bump and remains spillproof. Anyway, as the commercial played last night David said, barely audible, I love chicken so much that commercial makes me happy. That makes me smile. Look, I'm smiling.

I hope he went to KFC and got that pack for lunch today, he's worked hard this week, he deserves to eat a lunch that makes him smile :)