A note from my daughter...

Several weeks ago my daughter Olivia absconded with my cell phone.  Upon its return, I discovered the following note:

"Hi, Mom, this is my note to you. You are the most amazing person I've ever met. When I grow up I want to be just like you. You have impacted my life greatly, and I love you for trying so hard to please everybody, even if they don't deserve it. You have been the best mother, role model, and friend I could ever hope or wish for. I thank God for giving me you every day. Love, your daughter Olivia."

There are a number reasons why I cherish this note--the author, the content, the fact that it was written without obligation on an ordinary day.  I don't remember anything about that day, but I know that it wasn't Christmas or my birthday or Mother's Day.  I don't remember if it was a good day or a bad day, but I do remember the way my daughter's note made me feel--loved, admired, and appreciated.

Happy Mother's Day young and old, new and seasoned, past and future...today and every day.

The Battle

The last couple of weeks have been extremely challenging for my family, and I have had to make some heart-wrenching decisions concerning my "adult" children.  They were failing to launch, and I gave them no choice but to eject.  

It can be extremely challenging to parent when there is a 10-year age gap between the youngest child and the oldest.  My adult children were failing to "filter up" for the sake of their younger siblings, and my minor children were starting to run with the "big dogs".  It was no longer enough to put the big dogs on a leash; I had to kick them out of the kennel for their own good and the good of the family.  

Now that the dust is beginning to settle and everyone is assured of unconditional love and their place in the family, I am finally able to breathe again.  My adult children are spreading their wings and learning to fly, and my minor children seem to be in a little less hurry to grow up.

Sometimes the hard thing is the best thing, even when it feels like your tearing your own heart from your chest.  This battle has been won; God is good, and I am blessed.

October 2011

It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words.  How about 22 pictures?

Confessions

Last week was a rough week for my family.  In fact, the past couple of years have been difficult, but last weekend it became evident that we are beginning to crumble under the weight of more than a decade of choices, consequences, and circumstances.  The crazy thing is that we are committed Christians.  My husband and I honestly strive to follow Christ and teach our children to do the same, and yet, our family is struggling...

The saddest thing about all of this is that I know we are not the only Christians who struggle with marriage and family issues.  Unfortunately, it is often difficult to be candid when you're a Christian.  Why?  Because Christians are often hard on each other and many who do not profess faith in Christ are waiting and hoping for those of us who do to fail.  

So what do we do when life is less than perfect?  We withdraw.  We build walls.  We insulate in the name of self-preservation.  We don't seek help.  We don't share.  We just keep building our own private fortresses brick by isolating brick.  But I don't want to do that anymore.  I'm tired of hiding.  I'm tired of fearing what my family, my neighbors, and my "friends" might say if they were truly aware of what was going on in my life.  I'm weary of trying to maintain a functional facade.  There is an ongoing battle between my public persona and my private reality, and I am seriously considering merging the two.

Some may think I'm crazy.  Why would I risk being vulnerable? Well let me ask you this--how can we expect people to marvel at the mountains God moves on our behalf, if they never see the valleys?  How can we can we impress upon others the unimaginable grace that God bestows on us, unless we are willing to reveal just how much grace we need?  How can we reach a lost and dying world with a message of hope and healing, unless they are acquainted with the wounds from which we are healed?  

Don't misunderstand me--I am not advocating the airing of one's dirty laundry for sympathy or sensationalism.  What I am advocating is a willingness to share the less-than-picture-perfect portions of our lives with wisdom and discretion for the edification of others.  I know it's scary, but I believe it's worth it, so I'll go first.  Hi, my name is Kelley.  I am a Christian.  My family and I have been walking through a valley for quite some time now, but I believe the God has good things in store for us.  Your turn...

April showers...

The last couple weeks have been difficult for my family and me.  April showers may eventually bring May flowers, but so far, all April has brought is a torrent of tears.  Last Monday, April 4, we discovered that my beloved Dalmatian, Peyo, had developed crystals in his urinary tract, and when presented with all of the options and possible complications, I elected to have him put to sleep.  It was not an easy choice, but in the end, I believe it to have been the right choice.

The first night without Peyo was the hardest--I cried and cried.  I felt as though I had betrayed my best friend.  I had, in fact, signed his death warrant, but it was because I loved him and couldn't bear for him to be in any more pain.  The days were easier, but it was several nights before I stopped crying myself to sleep because there was no spotted dog on my side of the bed to rub my feet on or trip over in the night.  Some may say that Peyo was only a dog, and I suppose that is true, but he was my dog, and he loved me as no pet had before. 

I had only just dried my tears for Peyo, when I got a call from my mom on Tuesday, April 12.  Something was wrong; I could hear it in her voice on the answering machine.  When I picked up the phone, she told me that my Uncle Jack, her brother, had died.  At first I was incredulous, as if my disbelief would restore life, but disbelief gave way to despondency as I dropped the phone and walked away from my children's anxious questions.

The days that followed were a blur of activity--funeral arrangements, family, food, but now it's over--all of it--Peyo's life, Jack's life, the funeral, the burial, and we are left with our grief, a grief that will slowly ebb with time, but never quite fade away, a grief that I will tuck away in the corner of my heart where I hold Poppa. I wish that I had been able to spend more time with Jack, and in the end, I hope that he knew that I loved him.  I certainly knew that he loved me...

Goodbye 2010

2010 has been quite a year. In many ways, it has been one of the most difficult years of my life--bittersweet, if you will. My husband lost his job and had major knee surgery. After twelve years of being a stay-at-home mom, I became the temporary breadwinner. My grandfather died. My oldest son's baseball team won the state championship. The same son graduated from high school. A dear friend lost her only son in a tragic car accident. We added a new family member. My oldest son went away to college. My dad bought a Harley. We lived, we loved, we laughed, and we cried. So much joy, so much heartache, so many tears... Goodbye 2010, and thanks for the memories.

Poppa

Today is Grandpa Tommy's birthday. He would have been 85 years old. 

I miss him...

Thanksgiving 2010

This year, we spent Thanksgiving at Nanna's.  We have much to be thankful for, and a good time was had by all, but it just wasn't the same without Poppa...

Dry Falls & Lake Lenore Caves

We were supposed to go camping Labor Day weekend, but it didn't work out, so my sister suggested the we have a "staycation" (a vacation where you just stay home) instead.  On Saturday, we barbecued with family, and on Sunday, we barbecued with friends, but the highlight of our "staycation" was taking our four youngest to Dry Falls and the Lake Lenore Caves on Labor Day.  Although we were ill prepared for our impromtu hike--Hannah, Olivia, and I were in flip-flops, and Olivia was in a skirt--we had a fabulous time learning about cataclysmic floods, exploring caves, and searching for arrowheads!

The Story of Dry Falls (And no, Sam does not have "special needs"!)

Hannah, Olivia, Sam, and Asres overlooking Dry Falls

Information about the Lake Lenore Caves

Going up...

Made it!

Going in...

Inside one of the caves

View of the "neighborhood"

Looking for arrowheads

Possible arrowheads?

You be the judge!

New Kid on the Block!

This is Ansen.  He's a friend of my sons Kody and Jesse, and he is going to be staying with us for the school year.  Ansen is kind of like an exchange student, only better, because we already know him, we already love him, and he speaks English!  Welcome to the family Ansen!

Jesse & Ansen

Dylan, Hayley, and the "Terrible Turtle"

Dylan & Hayley

As I mentioned before, the day wasn't over yet.  Not long after the "Great Bathroom Rescue", I heard screams of horror coming from Sam's room, but before I can explain the screams, I must go back to the beginning of the day.  

Early this morning, (those of you who know me well understand that this could be anywhere from 9am to 11am) Duane (favorite uncle) arrived with a bucket of tadpoles that he had saved from a rapidly drying mud hole.  Three of my children were away at summer camp, another was at grandma's, and the remaining two were still sleeping, but my "extras" and I lovingly transferred the new family members from their big, yellow bucket to their "Sterlite" tote in the shade, and all was well with the world...until we heard the screams...

The Terrible Turtle

"Kelley, Kelley!  The turtle is eating the tadpoles!"   What?  "THE TURTLE IS EATING THE TADPOLES!"  Huh?!  The turtle is in the house, and the tadpoles are outside.  How is this possible?  I decided that I had better investigate, and much to my horror, I discovered that the turtle was indeed eating a tadpole!  At which point, I started screaming...  "Who put the tadpoles in with the turtle?!"  No response.  "SAM...?!"  "It wasn't me!" came his reply.  Then I noticed a funny look on my husband's face (you know, the dude who hasn't quite given up flexing).  He appeared to be trying to hide behind his laptop screen.  I turned my death glare on him and shrieked, "DID YOU PUT THE TADPOLES IN WITH THE TURTLE?"  He blanched.  "FIX IT!"  I screamed.

With the speed of a man who has recently had reconstructive knee surgery, my dear husband hoofed it into Sam's bedroom.  My extras, Hayley, the reptile lover (who, when I referred to the tadpoles as reptiles this morning, corrected me by saying that they were amphibians) and the youngest, Dylan, were extremely distraught and pleading with us to do something.  What they wanted was for us to stop the carnage.  What they got was my husband's best Darwin impression (survival of the fittest and all) and a helpless shrug, because the remaining tadpoles had taken cover under a rock and could not be reached by the rescue net.

The Tadpole With Legs

My husband retreated to his laptop.  I remained with the children and tried to explain food chains and survival of the fittest, etc., while Hayley sobbed about the "terrible turtle".  Then I saw him...the tadpole with legs.  How could he?!  I thought.  The tadpole with legs?!  What was my husband thinking?!  Incredulity gave way to resolve.  The tadpoles MUST be saved!  Out came the rescue net, and I am pleased to report that, after a brief "water rodeo", all of the tadpoles were saved...well...all except that one...

Our hero...?

Dakota aka the "Sexy Beast"

I have six children ranging in age from eight to eighteen.  In addition to my six children, I babysit four others ages three to nine.  Some might say that I'm clinically insane, but kids are fairly easy for me...feed them, stop their bleeding, read a story, feed them, wipe what needs wiping, break up an argument,  feed them, shell out some money, negotiate curfews, feed  them. Easy...*yawn*.  Today, however, has been a bit more exciting than most.  We'll start with the bathroom...

We have a bathroom.  Notice I wrote a bathroom.  This was no mistake.  I know that it may be difficult to believe that a family of eight, living in America, would have only one bathroom, but we do, and that bathroom does not have a proper lock.  (I heard that gasp!)  As untenable as the situation may seem, so far it has worked for us.  The fact that the male to female ratio in our family is 5:3 helps, because we also have a backyard and a park with a public restroom, if one must do more than the backyard will allow.  Enter the "extras", the kids that I babysit.  I honestly don't know how many bathrooms they have in their house, but their male to female ratio is 2:4, and I'm pretty sure that their bathroom has a proper lock.  

Jaelyn

Now let me introduce Jaelyn, the youngest female of the kids I babysit.  Jaelyn just turned six, and she's as feisty as they come!  Since the day she entered our home, she has always been a bit uncomfortable with the lock situation and will declare quite loudly that she is going to the bathroom and order us not to let anyone in.  Apparently today there was no one to hear her declaration, so she did what any privacy seeking six year old would do...she used the little red stool (Why, oh, why is the little red stool even in there anymore?!) to reach up and lock the door herself!  But I thought you said you didn't have a lock on your bathroom door...  No, I said that we didn't have a "proper lock" on our bathroom door.  What we do have is a flip lock designed for child proofing and burglars!

Enter Dakota (aka Kody).  Kody is our strapping eighteen-year-old son, affectionately referred to as the "Sexy Beast".  Why?  Well...because he is.  He spends as much time as possible shirtless and flexing, and girls dig him.  I'm sure he will outgrow the shirtlessness someday (my husband did), but probably not the flexing (my husband didn't).  When Kody heard the cries from the bathroom, he did what any eighteen year old would do in such an emergency...he busted in the door.  Our hero!  Fortunately for all of us, the door remained on its hinges and the only real casualty was the lock, which actually fared pretty well.  It's only a little bent.  (So much for "bathroom security"!)

After everyone had finished congratulating Kody for his heroics, he noticed that I was giving him the "stink eye".  He looked at me incredulously and said, "Well, Mom, what would you have done?"  To which I replied, "If she can lock it, she can unlock it.  I would have talked her through the process!"  Brawn vs. brain...go figure! Now, what to do with that little red stool...?

PS:  The day's not over yet...stay tuned for more "Adventures in Babysitting"!