What if...

I have a tendency to get a little weepy around holidays; I think because holidays cause reflection on the passage of time, which can be startling, I've had so many thoughts swirling in my head as Mother's Day approached, and now that I've enjoyed a wonderful day with my family, I'm even more full of sappy sentiment! I'll hopefully find the time in the coming days to turn some of those thoughts into posts, but for now, here is a quick Happy Mother's Day! to all the special moms in my life: my mom, my mothers-in-law, my sister, sisters-in-law, grandmothers, friends...and to my husband and sweet children. I am so blessed.

Oooh, just in case the days ahead get away from me, I don't want to miss a chance to say: Rock on, Holly! I am honored to call you a friend. You spoke a poignant word today, David and I just finished our "take away" discussion. As we unloaded the dishwasher together, we had a necessary conversation about that fear-risk-faith point you made and a specific area it applies to in our lives. Well said. Well done. Happy Mother's Day!

Before we moved to North Carolina, we lived just two houses down from my parents. You might think living that close is how you really get to know someone, and at the time, I probably thought the same. But move 600 miles and you'll find your viewing lens becomes larger, your vantage point grows, and as it turns out, the distance enables you to see more, to know more. To know better.

In the past 3 years, I have seen far less of my parents, and I know them all the better for it. I know they will travel 600 miles for a sick grandchild. For that matter, I know they'll travel 600 miles for a healthy grandchild, too. My dad will burn every second of his vacation time to spend time with our family here, or there, or anywhere in between. My mom will rearrange her schedule to be here for a birthday, or a surgery, or turn her quiet, "empty-nest" home upside down for weeks at a time for the kids to have an extended visit. My parents are not wealthy, and they will do without if it means they can do for us. And they have. Many times.

Not long after we moved out of the home two doors down from my parents and into a two bedroom apartment in NC, my parents came for a visit. One night as they were crowded in the kids' bedroom, with both kids of course, I listened in at the door. I heard giggles, and I love yous, and singing; then more giggles, and more singing. And in that moment a sadness I'd been carrying inside for months, a fear that my children would not have a close relationship with their grandparents, just melted away. Right then and there, I understood that the change in quantity of time did not have to mean a change in quality of time. Only, as it turns out, the quality did change, for the better.

Whether it was an unspoken commitment they made in their hearts, or a decision they sat down and made together, sometime in my parents' 30th year of marriage, they realized they had a new challenge to face: a 600 mile hurdle. Would they, could they, continue to build and maintain a relationship with their grandchildren? Children who had lived just two doors down. Children who now lived 600 miles away. Would the emails and phone calls and photographs and holidays and weekend trips and summer visits ever be enough? It would have to be.

Yesterday was my parents' 34th wedding anniversary. There are so many things I could say about their 34 years of marriage. Imperfections of course, funny stories galore, strange habits and oddities no doubt. Or I could applaud them for their amazing example of Godly generosity, love, and selflessness. I could praise them for their commitment to marriage and family, and the lessons David and I have learned. But tonight, feeling overwhelmed by the passage of time, and how fast my little ones have grown in our years here, I want to express my heartfelt gratitude.

Mom and Dad, for seeing the distance between us as a challenge, not an insurmountable obstacle, and rising to that challenge beautifully, thank you. Happy Anniversary.

You know how you often hear the story of a successful engineer, scientist or all around genius and it involves something like "as a child he (or she!) loved to take things apart and put them back together, just to see the way things worked."

Ever hear an inspiring story that begins with "he loved to break things...destroyed stuff all the time just for the heck of it," anyone?

Yeah, me either. Rats. I don't know what we're gonna do with this boy of ours. If there's an opposite to "everything he touches turns to gold," such as, "everything he touches turns to garbage," that's where we're at.

Moms of older boys, please feel free to comment and tell me destroyer-mode is a short lived phase. If you know otherwise, please keep it to yourself!

Ice cream sundaes are good, but muddy creek water is great!

Funduscopy is not as fun as the name would indicate.

"No Girls Allowed" signs do not pertain to mommies.

A boxer's smooshed snout is not conducive to catching baby bunnies. Thank you, Lord.

A baby bunny is fast, and noisy, when under attack.

I am fast, and noisy, when a baby bunny is under attack.

A fort built in the dining room makes a great place for a family of four to take a 2 hour nap.

If the weather is so beautiful that you hate to grocery shop, it's a great time to grocery shop...no lines!

"Things are just easier when you're beside me," he said as we sat side by side on our loveseat, while he worked on his first expense report...the one he's been dreading ever since he learned he'd now be handling his own expense reports.

He could say I'm the most beautiful woman in the world. He could tell me I cook the best food he's ever eaten. He could say he loves my new hair cut. He could proclaim that my mothering skills are the finest he's ever witnessed...but I can't think of a thing he could say that would mean more to me than, "Things are just easier when you're beside me."

He may not say much, but when he does, it's worth hearing.

He's great at the carpool stuff, the homework stuff, the bathtime stuff, the bedtime stuff...but what this Daddy does best is the FUN stuff! :)

Days like today remind me of why I love the Carolinas...spring is here, and maybe?!? it's here to stay (I have not watched the weather forecast for next week, so if you know better, please just indulge me today and play along!).

Way too nice to be indoors...gotta head back outside!

email.

voice mail.

dirty laundry.

clean laundry.

the fish bowl.

the toilet bowl.

I am behind on everything. The rockstar wall stickers from Lily's sleepover are still on my dining room walls. There are stacks of paperwork I need to read about health insurance and benefit changes due to David's company changing hands. There are suitcases needing to be unpacked. The fish bowl is murky. The dog is stinky. The shower door is cloudy. Easter grass is everywhere.

If I owe you a phone call, or an email reply, or thank you for an Easter basket or birthday gift, please just give me an extra day or two, and an extra measure of grace, because whatever the reason (and I'll spare you the list), I'm a little a lot behind.

that Eulonia, GA is not the place to visit if you intend to catch up on emails or blogs. Apparently, technology in general has met it's match in Eulonia. I was informed by a frustrated, and lost, U.S. soldier that his GPS has successfully navigated him through third world countries, but could not find it's way around Eulonia.

But in it's favor, Eulonia is full of beautiful red-tipped whatchamacallits, possibly better known as red-tipped thingamabobs, or something-or-others. It also has some great monkey climbing trees, if anyone knows of a group of monkeys looking for a place to hang out.

A $3 shirt off the clearance rack.

"Rock star parking" at my local Walmart, that's a phrase I learned from my sister in law to describe a better than expected parking spot.

Going into a CVS at 9pm to purchase a box of hair color and a pack of Twizzlers.

Those classic, old hymns...like Rock of Ages by Amy Grant, Vince Gill and the Fairfield Four, what a soulful version, love it.

Luke putting my face in his hands and saying "mi corazon," something he learned off Beverly Hills Chihuahua, but it still melts my heart, even if he learned it from a dog.