MERRY CHRISTMAS!

. . . . to all and to all a good night.

What an interesting Christmas season this has been! From the first moment that Thanksgiving was over and all the turkey paraphenalia was put away, my kids were a flutter about Christmas. We went to a Christmas tree farm to get our Christmas tree with high hopes and grand images of the perfect outing. After almost an hour of trudging and tripping over sticks, thorns and branches, me carrying a very hefty and tired Gabi on my back, we left empty handed. Nothing there fit my image of what our Christmas tree in our new house was supposed to look like. Where else could we go in this state that we now call home?? I could name 5 places right off the bat that I could go to back in Cleveland if all else failed and we couldn't find that "Griswold Family Christmas Tree". Heck, if we were in Cleveland, it would have been over with by now. We go to one place, they always have the tree we want, we pick it out, pay for it and strap it to the inside of our car and drive the 7 minutes back to our home. But here we were leaving empty handed from the one place that I knew that sold Christmas trees. I had just happened to see the sign for Aunt Mary's Christmas Tree Farm as I was traveling these Pennsylvania country roads on my way to a destination. That's it, that's all I had. Now what?? We happened to remember a trailer that sold Christmas trees and tried there. No luck. I was just about ready to give up when I remembered a nursery that was across from my favorite grocery store. And just like in Cleveland, we walked in, found that perfect tree within 5 minutes, strapped it to the inside of our car, and drove the 15 minutes home. CHECK. One more thing to add to my list of new traditions and memories. I hate that list.

Once we got our tree home, and followed in the traditions of what we had always done the day we get our tree and decorate it, I just had this overwhelming sense of sadness. I wanted to cry and if I remember correctly, I did. I was cranky and b**chy and mean and yelling at the kids. It took me a moment to figure out but I just didn't want to be there. I didn't want to make new traditions and memories. I wanted my old house. I knew exactly where all my decorations went there and I had the hardest time even deciding where to put the decorations here. Hello - I had at least 2 extra rooms to spread my boxes of goodies out, it should have been fun to do that. But it wasn't. I wanted our old cramped living room where we crammed most of our festive items. I hated every minute of decorating this year. I thought I would look forward to decorating our oak banister in our open foyer. I had visions of real lighted garland wrapped in between the spindles with a big bow at the end of the banister. I saw white lights on our little bushes outside and real pine garland outlining our new doorway. That was my vision of decorating this season and I found it so hard to even want to do it. But, I finally dragged myself out to the store and picked out a very petite princess pine and carefully wrapped it in lights and threaded it through our banister. It took me 2 weeks to even bring myself to do it. How beautiful it was though. I could take joy in that. I tried my best to take joy in watching my kids eyes light up when we took them to see Santa and to ride the Christmas train at the mall. CHECK. Another 2 traditions we had established in our old life and now could continue on in our new life. I really did try. We even made a few new traditions - we went to an old Moravian candlelight church service in downtown Bethlehem. How magical that was. And for Christmas Eve, we had shrimp and Alaskan King crab claws. How delectable that was. So, I did try. And I did it, I got through it. I smiled and gritted my teeth for my kids and my husband. This is their most enjoyable season and I tried for them. But now, I'm so glad it's over. Now I can sit peacefully and wait for the real owners of this house to come and claim it. I think the reality just hit me that this is home now. Whether I like it or not, I live here. In a state that I have always made fun of and swore I would never live in. Now it's time to stop using "the holidays" as an excuse. Maybe that's why I wanted to get this season over with. So I could stop using "the holidays" as an excuse and make every effort to get acclimated to my new home. My new years resolution is more like a list of To Do's. Get involved in the church that we have found - volunteer for the nursery like I have done since I was a teenager at the various churches I have attended. Find a homeschooling group in this area. Get my kids involved in some kind of fine arts program. Get together with some of the girls at work that have young children and have been begging me to set up a playdate. And probably at the top of this list - GET THIS DARN HOUSE PAINTED. NO MORE WHITE WALLS!!

So, I hope your season was more enjoyable than mine. I look forward to next year when I will at least will know where I can get my Christmas trees and that decorating my banister in real garland brings me great joy. And now, I leave you with pictures from our holiday season.

Opening the Christmas tree

Making Christmas cookies

Lighting the kids

Our pretty house

Our Christmas Open House

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve feast

Christmas Day Mess

Gabi wears her Christmas present

You beat me to it

You should be glad you posted when you did otherwise, I would have yelled, "No, fair!!". But it is all good. So for everyone who doesn't link your blog to mine, let me share and show off what I did for you.

To hear that no one would throw a baby shower for my baby sister and the birth of her first child was heartbreaking. I couldn't let that go or else I'd never hear the end of it - especially since you played a big role in throwing my MY baby shower. So on the phone I went with the master of planners and schemers. We devised a way to make sure that you would have your day and Camille would be showered with gifts. Luckily, to my surprise, a very good friend of yours decided to take on that daunting task. I merely became the puppet and cake puppet at that. You're worth it though. All the pain and family struggles and organizing that I couldn't share with my best friend for 6 weeks. I could only vent to my hubby. He just listened as he always does. But, like I said, you're worth it. And the best part was, you had no clue. I loved every moment of that charade. I especially enjoyed planning a fabulous cake for you and Miss Priss. It took hours of planning and ebaying, hours of coloring icing and even a full hour to bake a cake that big. But once again, you were worth all of it. For everything you have done for me, I can only begin to show you by being your "surrogate mother" during this new chapter in your life. So . . . without further ado . . . here it is . . .

And you believed me when I said that I bought it at the store?? Ha! I'm crushed! Would anybody else write her name so princesslike and even on top of that, spell her name wrong (the middle name that is)??

I love this picture of all the Princesses at the party.

So, happy shower. I'm so glad I could do it for you. I hope you had fun and enjoyed munching your daughters name in clouds!

Sugar and Spice

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

What a whirlwind weekend! Our lovely new home was host to the family this season due to the pregnant one's inability to travel in her very pregnant state. My mom and granny made the trek from down south, the Prego and her D (and also her kitty kat) made the trek from up north and my brave brother-in-law and nephew and nieces made the trek from WAY down south!! I would have to say that this one of the best Thanksgiving's yet. Yes, I did say that. One would think after reading my posts over the last few weeks that family drama would seep into this thankful holiday. But, hark, notice who wasn't listed in my list of "trekees". Exactly. It was peaceful (as peaceful as it can be with 15 people in the house), there was no tension, we were all eager to be with each other, there were no children yelled at (except my little Foo - poor Foo), there was no degrading of spouses but most of all we all just got along so harmoniously. So, without further ado - here is our holiday in pictures!

The Cousins

By the way, if anyone wants the outfits that my nieces are wearing in this picture, they are up for auction on ebay!

Me and Prego

Robbie and Anthony

Three of the Four Princesses

Which one is the turkey?

Mutt and Jeff

So, there it is. I hope you enjoyed and had a great holiday!

Waving the white flag

Yes, believe it or not, I am not post dating nor am I changing the time that I am writing this. If I am up at 4 a.m., it isn't because I can't sleep, it's because the Mexican I had for dinner is kicking me in the butt. And, on top of that, some little birdie told me I might as well just write and then maybe I can go back to bed.

I'm not exactly sure what color flag that I need to be waving. The proverbial "white flag" is for surrendering and I'm not sure that is what I'm doing. What flag do you wave when you refuse to have your boundaries crossed. Maybe it's the proverbial "drawing the line in the sand". Maybe that's what I'm doing. You see, I've done this in the past. I took her poor soul into my house after my mother drew her line in the sand. But I didn't do it for you, I did it for the innocent child you were dragging around in your lifestyle. You knew the conditions of our agreement and yet, you still insisted on crossing that line. And to your surprise, at that moment, I drew MY line in the sand. Maybe you've never forgiven me for that. I feel like I continue to pay for it and you just have added things over the last 11 years to your "Look What Jenn Did To Me" little black book that you carry around with you. And it's happened again. What entry did you put in your book this time??

786. Jenn convinced my husband that committing welfare fraud wasn't in our best interest.

OR

787. Jenn told my husband to run after me the night that I wanted to commit suicide.

OR

788. Jenn is trying to control me (see entry #1,35,84,193,375,399,478,600).

OR

789. Jenn is treating me like a child (see entry #4,78,123,364,587,690).

You might as well put your black book away because I'm not going to give you anymore reasons to use it. DING You're wish has come true. I'll leave you alone. I'll stay out of your life. I will stop caring and worrying and wondering why it is you make the choices that you do. Talk about controlling - how about you stop controlling my emotions by making me worry half to death each time you take a trip off the deep end. I mean, if we are all being fair here, if I'm not controlling you, you can no longer control me either. What you fail to realize is how much I love you. While you've been fervently adding those entries to your black book, I still sit here and take the anger and resentment you hand out. I still bend over and take it and still love you. But that doesn't matter to you. You still add those entries and for some reason, it always gets turned around and ends up being my fault. Can you tell me why? When did it become my fault?? I don't remember making those destructive life choices for you.

And here we are again, right around the corner from another holiday. Do you have a Holiday Clock that goes off around this time and you insist on making sure the limelite is on you?? It sure seems that way. It is sort of amusing how the stars lined up this year. I mean, if Turkey Day had been at mom's house, she surely would have continued to put up with what you dish out. But it looks like you drew the short straw this year. Turkey Day is at my house. And dearie, here is where I draw the line. I don't want your drama here. I don't want you waltzing into my house all wrapped up in your attitude and have to pretend like that is okay. Not this time. I did that once over the summer. Not again. Isn't the definition of insanity, "Doing the same thing over and over again and each time expecting a different result."? I'm not insane. And yes, any other time, I would gladly accept your husband and children into my home but not this time. I don't want to look into the eyes of the sad refugees of the war you have created in your home. I'm done picking up your pieces. I can't do it anymore.

790. Jenn says she doesn't want my drama at her house for Thanksgiving.

Maybe some day, I'll stop being blamed for everything that goes wrong in your life. But for now, I'm taking a leave of absence from being your scapegoat. I'm walking away, I'm drawing the line in the sand, I'm waving my little white flag. I'm through. You will never understand what you do to me, how much you hurt me, how each time you go off the deep end, you add another rift in our sisterhood. Don't' worry, there are family members out there who will continue to take what you dish out and continue on with the wool pulled over their eyes. For they bore you. I didn't. Apparently, I'm just your sister. And that doesn't mean anything to you. That's fine. I will cling to the other branch of our sisterhood and we will become strong waiting for our weaker branch to get strong again and realize the truth.

Happy Birthday to the two of you!!

Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Olivia and Gabi, happy birthday to you!!

What a great idea!! Move to Pennsylvania and have a dual birthday party for the girls. It would save the family lots of time by having both their parties on the same day. I mean, heck, all of Tom's family is right here and my family is just hours (3-4 to be exact) away. Ah, yes, this is why we moved to PA, to be closer to family.

NOT!

What a wake up call. After all we had been through with our moving adventure to this new house, I was sure the reason was to be close to family. And just as fast as I thought I had it all figured out, it was just that fast that I was proven wrong. Don't get me wrong, it's great that we are so close to everyone now but it just figures that the first "family" event that I have in my new location, only half the family showed up. It doesn't matter who showed up and who didn't, they all had their valid excuses and there are absolutely NO hard feelings on this end. It just makes me wonder, is there another reason that we are here, in this stuck in the 80's state?? And if there is, what is it??

Anyway, I wanted to share a picture of my darling princesses on their birthday.

I bought those dresses off ebay. Aren't they just adorable?? I also tried my hand at making a birthday cake for them. I had intended on making this cake for Olivia's 5th birthday and because of the events of last October, was lucky she even had a birthday party. So, I hunted all over this area, at every craft store and baking store to find this recipe and "how to" for this castle cake that I had seen over a year ago. Turns out, nobody here had the book I was looking for. I just happened to be going back to Cleveland for a visit with a good friend that next day and I had her take me to the craft store that I had originally seen the recipe at. Sure enough, they had it. Here is a picture of it. Drum roll please . . . .

Thank you, thank you. I think it's gorgeous too!! So, Happy 4th Birthday my little Gabi and Happy 6th Birthday my Princess Olivia!! And no, they weren't born on the same day, Gabi is September 14th and Olivia is October 19th. Just to clarify that.

I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner

One of the things that I really wanted when Tom and I were considering floor plans when we built our house, was an open foyer. I have always thought that they were just the most elegant things in the world. We narrowed our floor plan search only to models that had an open foyer and ended building our home with one. We also added hardwood floors, banister, steps and stained french doors at the entry to our study. Isn't it pretty??

I also secretly wanted an open foyer to be able to throw things down from the second floor and conversely to throw things up from the first floor. I had visions of sliding down the banister and nailing the kids on the head with their stuffed kitty cats. Besides the aesthetics of an open foyer, it just sounded like fun.

My daughter came to me one morning, beaking and beaking (that's what we call it when she's talking so fast and in her high pitched voice - she sounds like Beaker from the Muppets) about the fact that Jake had put one of her stuffed kitty cats in a window. I was a little intrigued because she seemed so upset. When she brought me to the window that her little cat was in, I just had to shake my head.

Yes, what you are witnessing is poor Olivia's little kitty stuck in the second story window of our open foyer. As the title of this post suggests, I'm surprised it took THIS long to happen. So, I decided to have some fun with it and put together a team of the strongest, most qualified members or our family that I could find.

Jake chose Pepee, Gold, Am and Snowball. Gabi chose Midnight, Baby and some other orange cat that I can't remember it's name. Olivia chose Sami, Punkins and Rascal. We nominated Pepee as the team captian because she is the stinkiest and meanest. We tied all of their paws together with elastic bands and then sent them through rigorous training to prepare them for the task ahead of them.

We put Gabi in charge of recovery during the attempts at rescue.

The rest of the pictures tell the rest of this story.

SUCCESS!!!!!!

Apparently, my son had his own agenda for our new open foyer. Maybe this time, he'll land one in the foyer chandelier!!

Just in case you move, take note

My last post was a little emotional and so it has taken me a while to get up the guts to do it again. I think I've moved beyond that emotional time and I"m ready to move on. So, yes, these next serious of posts will be post dated. Surprise, surprise.

When I was going through high school and college, one of the jobs I had during the summers was being a packer for Interstate Van Lines. I would go into work in my little blue work shirt, blue shorts, black hard toed shoes and a little Interstate Van Lines towel to wipe the sweat off my brow. The only way I remember this is because my mom saved all of this paraphanalia and thought it would be funny to wear it while the packers came to pack my house in OH. I didn't see the humor in it and just left it in the closet where it has lived happily for the past decade. Anyway, in order to take the job I had to go to "packing school" to learn how to pack up people's valuables so they would be transported from one place to another without breaking. I learned a lot there and that started my nack for being able to organize, pack, put together any large number of objects. I have since been known as "the packer" and when it comes to long trips where my van needs to be packed to the hilt with amazing amounts of junk, just let me handle it. So, when I was preparing for the packers to come pack our house, I had a little bit of insight into what they were going to be doing.

Sound funny, right?? I needed to prepare for someone to come pack my house. Take it from a former packer, if you expect to find anything at the other end, you might want to have as much of your stuff organized BEFORE they get there. One of the first things the packers did when they walked in our door was to start packing the kitchen. Now tell me, how logical is it to pack the one place that will still need to feed a family of five during the next 3 days before their move?? Good answer. Unfortunately, during that whirlwind of 2 big packers, lots of boxes and paper, I had to take the kids to a birthday party, so when they started packing the kitchen, I wasn't present. But when I had come back, anything that was on my counter, including my new favorite toy, the Hershey's Chocolate Maker (which, by the way, just takes Hershey's Chocolate Chips and melts them down to a nice warm temperature in a little chamber), was already packed in boxes. Since the kitchen got packed first, it was the first room they loaded on the van on the day we moved. Loaded on the front of a big 18 wheeler. To the tune of 23 boxes. And the rest of our house got loaded after that. So, when our shipment arrived in PA, the kitchen boxes were the last to come off. My poor mom, whom I had put in charge of unpacking my kitchen as soon as the boxes came off, waited from 8 AM when the truck arrived until 4:30PM for those stinking boxes to come off the truck!! Needless to say, she was a little tired from unpacking "busy" boxes and by the time the boxes actually came off that I really needed her to unpack -she didn't get very far into those 23 boxes.

One of the things that we desperately needed during that moving day was dishwasher soap, to operate our new dishwasher, and the dustbuster. By the time mom left to go back to VA, she had unpacked half of our 23 boxes. Tom and I spent the next day conquering what was left of the kitchen boxes. I was on a mission to find the two items I needed so I was like a driven animal unpacking that kitchen. As I opened each box and saw what was inside, I pictured where it came from in our old kitchen, hoping I would find the dustbuster first. But the dustbuster was hanging above the trashcan in our old house and everything else around it had been found. It could have been anywhere. Of course, my luck, wouldn't you know it, I found the dishwasher soap first and then, in the last box, I found the dustbuster. Out of the 23 boxes that were unpacked in the kitchen, it had to be in box number 23.

And now, on to my next reason why you need to be organized for your packers and pay attention as they are packing your house. My son has a bunk bed. He has slept in that bunk bed since he was 2. We bought that bunk bed and put it together in his room. I hasn't left since. Until we moved, that is. Apparently, it wasn't going to fit through the doors to be loaded onto the moving truck. They decided this very late in the afternoon of the day we moved. So, they took it apart, every board, screw and bolt they could, they took apart. Being that it was the last part of the afternoon of our move and his was one of the last rooms to get taken out of the house, I was ready for the move to be over and just didn't pay attention. That was, until, they unloaded all those pieces of wood in our new house in PA. One of the first things I was doing as our belongings came off the truck was to get everyone's bed and linens assembled and ready to go when that long day ended. As I started to see the end of all those pieces of the bunk bed coming off the truck, it slowly started to dawn on me, where on earth were all the screws and bolts?? Hmmmm???? One of the guys who packed the house, was also one of the guys who moved our house and traveled all the way to PA to unpack the moving truck. Surely he would know. He had no clue. We rummaged through Jake's dresser and every box that came into his room. No parts. I racked my brain for the last things that were packed and loaded on the truck, found those boxes and rummaged through them. Nothing. The one packer/mover even called the company to contact the guy who had actually taken Jake's bed apart to find out where he might have stashed the bolts. Couldn't reach him. By then, I was whipped and just couldn't exert the energy anymore. We decided, for Jake's first night, that he would just sleep on his mattresses. I found all his sheets and comforters and pillows and set them up for the poor boy. He was very sad that everyone else had a set up bed in their new house and not him. Bright and early the next day, we made a trip to Home Depot and bought make shift pieces so his bed could be put together. The bed went together nicely and had no problems adapting to the new pieces. But I was the one having the problem trying to figure out this puzzle. Where on earth did the pieces end up?? As the days went by and we came into the first week of being in our new home, the boxes slowly started to disappear. With the exception of the basement, all of the boxes were unpacked within the first 2 weeks. Yeah, me!!! Still, no pieces to Jake's bunk bed. I even started working on some of the basement boxes, recognizing that some of them were junk boxes and had things thrown in them from several combinations of rooms. Things that had not fit in the boxes from that room being packed or things that had just simply been forgotten. Nope, not in any of those boxes. I finally gave up my quest after a few weeks and just figured it was a casualty of moving.

Soon after that, my dad was coming up to help with some shelves in our house and I was getting ready for his visit. I was straightening up the inside of the house and had gone outside to switch the sprinklers around on our newly sprouting lawn. Since we moved in, I hadn't touched any of the yard toys that had come off the moving truck - the slide and the kids sand box. They had just been thrown in the back and stayed there since that day. I decided to finally deal with these and find a spot, where I didn't care if the grass was growing or not, and put them away. I started with the sand box and had to unload the toys from it in order to move it. As I started to pull some of those toys out, wouldn't you know it, but there were those da*n screws. They had been wrapped up in a huge ball of tape and just tossed in the sand box. The sand box. Yep, the sand box. That was definitely my next logical place to look for the screws to my son's bunk bed.

So, if there is one thing I want to leave with you as you leave my blog today, it is this - One, whenever you move and have packers, stay organized. And two, if you can't find that one particular item once you arrive in your new house, check the sand box.

Saying Goodbye

Yes, I am post dating this. At this day and time, my computer was packed in the back of my van, my monitor, keyboard, mouse and printer was somewhere on that semi-truck. This picture was taken as the Bekins moving van was pulling out of our street to bring our household belongings to who knows where. You talk about a very strange feeling. To watch your life all packed away on one semi-truck and then driving away from you. I felt like running after it!! No, don't go, I want to stay!!

What a hard day this has been. The movers came at 11 a.m. and didn't finish loading the van until 8:30 pm or so. The kids stayed with their favorite friend/babysitter JJ until 7 pm when she had to go to a class. Let me tell you, that was a hard goodbye. By that time, everyone was exhausted and ready to just get this move over with. The kids entertained themselves by riding up and down the sidewalks on the movers dolly's (sp?). That lasted for a little while until Gabi fell off one and scraped her back. I finally asked our neighbor to take them to McD's for dinner. By the time she got back and the kids had eaten most of their dinner, believe it or not, it was time to go. After the moving truck left, we had to do what we had all been dreading most of the day, say good bye. It was so weird being in the house and having it be totally empty. I just wanted it over with. Our poor kitties had been locked in the bathroom all day and I wanted to collect them and just go. I went upstairs to get them and wouldn't you know that someone had left the bathroom door open and my kitties had escaped. "Um, it's an empty house, how hard can it be to find 2 kitties?", you ask. Let me tell you, when kitties don't want to be found, it's very hard. Our oldest was stupid enough to hide behind a door, she was easily found, and eagerly walked into the cat cage. Our youngest, wasn't as easy to find. By this time, it was about 8:45 pm, mostly dark by now, we have no lights in the house, and to top it all off, the cat is black!! We looked for a while and had no luck, the kids were following behind me getting very upset thinking about the prospect of having to leave their kitty behind. And in the back of my mind, I was scared about the same thing. Tom borrowed a neighbors flashlight and we scoured every rafter in the basement and ended up finding her in the highest, most remote rafter down there. Poor kitty. Ok, that crisis is over. At that point, I just wanted to get the leaving part over with. I couldn't stand it anymore.

We all said goodbye to our rooms, locked the front door from the inside and left out the garage door. Tom punched in the code, for the last time, and the garage door closed on 6 years of our lives. I quickly walked down the driveway. Olivia started crying and Tom swept her up in his arms and held her tight. I had Gabi's hand in mine and looked back to see Jake just standing at the garage door. He just ran his hand over the door, touching it ever so gently and whispered good bye. That memory will be forever etched in my mind. Good bye 26716 Osborn Road.

Thank you . . .

to two people. One, to Marianne. I can't thank you enough for getting me through that rough night. To you, your words might have seemed harsh but to me, they were exactly what I needed. I can't thank you enough for getting me on the right track and helping me to refocus. And that brings me to my second thank you - that would be to Veronica Penmer. For wanting to buy my house, move in it ASAP and wanting to pay me rent so she can occupy it before hand. And I guess, first and foremost, I should be thanking God for bringing these two special people into my life. If it weren't for them, I don't think I would have made it through these last few days.

Can someone pick me up??

Yes, believe it or not, I'm not going to back date this post as I always seem to do. This past month has been a wild ride and believe it or not, we're still riding it! The month of July is always very special and hectic for us. Besides Tom's bday, Jake's bday and my bday we also have 2 extended family member birthdays thrown in there. No more July birthdays!! We have seemed to fall into the tradition of having my dad and his wife here for the Fourth of July and it has now become tradition to have a picnic with our family and his wife's family. We have also added having my nephew stay with us for 2 weeks during that time. And since we didn't have enough family here during that time, we have also enjoyed my sister and her family coming up for our Fourth of July tradition. To add to that, we have started a tradition of going to my mom's house for a week in Washington DC the middle of July. All the grandkids and my sisters come and enjoy the week of fellowship. Can you say busy?? So, now do you know where I've been for the past month? Am I excused from not posting?? Thank you!

I must say that I didn't think I would be posting this this late in the process but here I go. Our house has neither sold nor rented. Yes, that's true, our settlement date is exactly 13 days from today. Interesting isn't it?? Why haven't we gotten off this ride yet?? I have no idea but I can tell you that I'm spent. I lost all hope and have no more faith. This was a faith walk, right? I sure thought so. We both believed that the Lord was taking us out there for a purpose. He had called us out there beyond both of our better judgements. We loved where we are, why would we want us to move? Hey, who am I to question? We stepped out. Left our comfort zone. Took a leap of faith - against the better judgements of certain family members. Walked in obedience. We've been given little "breadcrumbs", as I like to call them, along the way - little pieces of Him that show us that we're heading down the right road. We've even met opposition from the other side causing us to ask why we would even want to be close to that. But yet, we still walk. It's WALKING in faith, not sitting. And we've walked my friend, yes, we've walked. And now, I'm tired and weak and done walking. He continues to remain silent when I need answers the most. He talks about perserverance - now I know what He's talking about. When I want to give up and am to weak to walk, it is then that I need to be carried. Someone better pick me up. The lyrics to HELD by Natalie Grant seem to say so much right now

Held
(Christa Wells)
Christa Wells, a part-time songwriter and stay-at-home mom of three in North Carolina wrote this song in response to two very difficult losses that happened within 48 hours. And for her, I think it must have been one of those total shake-your-fist-at-God moments where you cry, “Why God?” These are the things in life that we cannot understand or explain, and the lyrics reflect that honesty. God didn’t promise us we’d be okay or that life would be easy. My faith does not protect me from pain, but it provides me with peace. God only promises us that when we suffer, when we’re in pain, we’ll be held in His arms through every circumstance.
Two months is too little
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling
Who told us we’d be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
Were asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it’s unfair
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
If hope if born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our savior
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held

Baby Morgan is 3 Months

AREN'T YOU JUST THE CUTEST THING! I CAN'T WAIT TO MEET YOU!

Progress . . .

I took a trip to PA to see how our house is doing! Isn't it beautiful?? Yeah, I know it's not much but it's mine!

And the back . . .

It was really weird to actually go in there. It made me tear up! And it takes alot for me to do that! Our steps were sitting in the living room - the workers were using a ladder to get up to the second floor. It was weird to actually touch them. We had ordered oak stairs with a carpet runner up the middle. They haven't even been stained yet and they had lots of plastic over them to keep them clean. The basement stairs were sitting right next to them. Our basement was just a hole with a few boards over the top. Glad I saw that before I fell in!

Okay - enough for now. I know, I've been a bad internet friend and haven't kept up my site. I won't make any empty promises. Just lower your expectations of me and you'll be surprised how one little post will make you feel!

Sweet Relief

After my son's brush with death that day, we had two more similar incidents within days of each other. Granted, they weren't as bad, but still way out of line and out of character for him. I was thrilled that Tom actually got to witness one of his challenging moments in public. It happened at his last choir performance. Yes, in front of all the other choir members and their parents. I could have sunk into the chair. As we both sat there racking our brains for the precipitated for these actions, something that my sister-in-law had said popped into my head. I was telling her about Jakes' brush with death at my therapy appointment and she had said, "You know, he's under a lot of stress with the move." Huh, I thought, I just wonder. Tom and I had made sure that we talked to the kids about the upcoming change in their lives. We continued to question them and encourage them to voice their feelings. Jake, in particular, being the oldest, seemed to understand our reasonings for moving and seemed to be okay with it. But my son, being the rabbit ears that he is, had probably been listening more intently than we had thought at our casual conversations at the dinner table about the move. That night, after the choir performance, after the girls had been put to bed, we decided to have a little chat. It was about his behavior that night and the days before but mostly about exactly what was to be happening in the next few months concerning the move. My son is Type A, just like his momma. He's a planner, an organizer, a neat freak (about certain peculiar things)and he just has to know what's going on - just like his momma. I could EMPATHIZE with him - I know how it FEELS to be out of control and not know what's going on (my childhood in a nutshell). So, I entered that conversation telling him the things that I would want to know about the move. I pulled out a calendar and walked him through the events that would be occurring - the day the packers come and pack up our things, the day the moving van comes to load up, the day we say goodbye to our house, the day we drive to PA and sign the papers and get the key and the day the moving truck brings our things to our new house. I showed him the floor plan of the model we had chosen - used my finger to walk him through the rooms and hallways. I even gave him a choice between two rooms that could be his own. He eagerly chose the room in the front of the house. I watched his eyes as I ran through that exercise and I was amazed at how attentive and inquisitive he became. I could tell, it was just what he needed.

A few days after that, it was just the icing on the cake for him. We actually took him to the site in PA where the house was to be built. We let him touch and see the place where the house was to be built. Here they are standing in the driveway of our new home -

The model home happened to be the model we had chosen - it even had the garage on the same side as our house would be. This company doesn't furnish their models at all. It was great for the kids because they got to walk - and sometimes run - through the rooms without destroying any furniture! Here is a picture of our model - the Vancouver. Our outside will be siding and shutters, not the masonry front -

I had them start thinking about where they would put their furniture and especially their beds. It was funny to watch. Olivia actually laid down on the floor to see what it would look like from various angles in her room. Gabi decided to put her best baby's bed, RockABye, in the closet. For those that know the relationship Gabi has with that doll, I'm sure she'll change her mind. Poor RockABye. Jake is already set on where his bed, dresser and desk will go. We took Jake and Olivia with us when we went to pick out our design options for the house. This included stuff like the color/style of the lighting, stain and color for the hardwoods we chose for the foyer and color for the front of the house. Beforehand, we had driven around the community and looked at some of the other houses and color schemes. I loved listening to their opinions. Here is the color our family like the best for our new house (of course, this isn't our model- this is one of the most expensive ones the builder has)-

Well, I can say now that my son has come off the wall and decided to be himself. Our little "orientation" talk and that trip to the homesite really helped him to feel more in control. Of course, if our house doesn't sell, we aren't going anywhere. Another post in itself.

Jacob Thomas Keim - July 16, 1997 - May 16, 2005

Well, he made it to almost 8 years old and he just about lost his life a few days ago. There have been times in my parental life that I have seen parallels with my own childhood relationship with my parents, particularly my mom. This would be one of them. Let me explain.

I had to go to occupational therapy a few days ago to continue working on strengthening/stretching my injured finger out. Because of Tom's work schedule, I had to take all three of the kids with me. I bought them McD's before we went so their stomachs would be full and hopefully their mouths shut. They each had something to do during my 1 hour session - Jake was to be working on a book report, Olivia had Math homework (yes, homeschooled kids have homework too) and Gabi, well, I just locked her in the stroller hoping she wouldn't jump out. They all had explicit instructions to keep their mouths shut and work on the projects they had been given. I had no such luck. I would have to say that Olivia was the best. She actually finished the assignment she was given and didn't do to much talking - a feat for her. Gabi came in second place even though she threw her toys about ten times and it was very difficult to retrieve them when ones hand is in the hand of the therapists'. I had to excuse my hand several times to pick up whatever she had launched. And Jake, well, let me put it this way, if I had 10 cents for each time I had to look at him with the "you better knock it off" look, I would be a millionaire. I would have to say that this would have been one of the most embarrassing moments that I have had with my son. Jake has always been a button pusher. He has always tested his limits just to see how far he can push. I have always met those challenges and gently reminded him of his boundaries. For as long as I can remember, he has been satisfied at my retorts and backed down - except for today. He just pushed and pushed and pushed. I tried my best to remind him that he was crossing the line each time my therapist stepped out of the room. He didn't care. At one point, I kicked him under the table because his mouth was getting a little to fresh. He slammed his hands down on the table, stood up and got in my face saying, "What'd you do that for??". I had no other choice but to let him have it , verbally this is, in front of my therapist. I just wasn't pretty. Several times I had to tell him to "shut up". I never use that term with my kids as I feel it is verbally degrading but that is how far he pushed me. When we finally got out of there, I was ready to blow up. I kept my cool recognizing that my ego had been seriously bruised. I got home, sent him to his room, got Gabi down for a nap, Olivia in quite time, took a few deep breaths and went to confront my son. It started out calm and then I just couldn't hold back the tears. I was so hurt, so embarrassed, so angry. I let the tears flow. I wanted him to see what he had done to me by treating me so disrespectfully. I think he was a little surprised. I pointed out that we had always had a good enough relationship that ever since he was two years old, I could look at him across the table and have that "you better knock it off" look and he would respect that and settle down. And that today, was the first time ever, that he just continued to run past that line ignoring any hints of disrespect. I called Tom, he was in Seattle, WA, in tears. He was hanging out with one of my lifelong friends doing my bidding at Pike's Place Market in downtown Seattle. I have never called him before that upset. I hysterically recounted the days events - he asked to speak with Jake and I gladly handed the phone over. After that, I think it sunk into my son's thick skull how far he had pushed me.

Even though Tom was to be home the next day, Jake spent the next 24 hours dreading his father's homecoming. I have come to the conclusion that when the kids get that far out of hand, that waiting until Tom comes home to have just punishment served, is fine with me. Even if that means 2-3 days after the incident.

And you ask how this parallels with my own childhood. Oh, baby, if you could have been a fly on the wall during those teenage years with my mom. I had called my mom expecting some sympathy and support, which she did give in some manner, but I think she was also brought back to a time when she had felt those exact same emotions. As I had felt, that is. I think that when we have kids that our parents are secretly hoping that we end up with kids that are exactly like us. I mean, how else would parenting be justified if we couldn't get revenge on our own kids later in life. Apparently, I was just a little lippy when I was younger. So lippy, in fact, that I brought my mom to tears on several occasions. I know how it feels now and I ain't pretty. I'm sorry mom. I never should have hurt or disrespected you that way. I was just a kid and never imagined what kind of impact that would have on you as a person or my main "parental figure". I've been there now, I know how it feels and would never wish that on anyone. I'm sorry.

Kitties in the attic

We pick and choose our battles. As parents, we know that we can never win every battle with our kids. We also don't want to take the time to fight with them all day. So, we choose what we want to fight with them about. There is one battle with my fluffiest children, that I fight on a daily basis - attic access. Our house is a bungalow style, so our ceilings on our second floor are sloped. We have fabulous, walk-in, storage at the front and back of our house. One side houses all my Christmas goodies and all my old baby equipment. The other side, as referred to by my husband, is my office. It stores all the clothes my kids have ever worn since they were born. For Jake, that's almost 8 years worth of clothes. I save these for our precious Emmy's unborn child or the possibility of adding one more to our family. I am in that "office" often. Between exchanging clothes as the seasons change for a family of five, finding shoes to fit their ever growing feet and my busy business on ebay - I spend a lot of time opening and closing that door to the attic.

Well, my furriest kids enjoy playing hide and seek in there. I don't like them in their for safety purposes and the plain fact that they nap on the clothes and get LOTS of fur on them. This is a battle I choose to fight with them. They like to be in there, I don't want them in there. I open the door, sit on the floor and work on getting my ebay packages out - they stand in the doorway, just waiting for me to turn my head so they can run in. Sometimes I turn my head just to psych them out. They run in thinking they are being sneaky and I grab whatever part of them I can get my hands on - ears, tails, paws, whatever. I would say that I win this battle only 50% of the time. The other 50% of the time - I choose to let them win - to teach them a lesson. I finish what I am doing, turn the lights out (there are no windows so it is pitch black dark), close the door and walk away. Most times I forget they are in there until the middle of the night when they scratch at the door and let out cries of surrender. I open the door, flip on the light - yea, I get my jollies out of watching them squint as their eyes get used to the light - and give out motherly pieces of advice like, "Did you learn your lesson?", "Are you going to do THAT again?", "I bet you'll stay out of there for a while!". The next day comes, I walk in the closet to grab something,turn around and you guessed it, there they are, awaiting the battle to begin again! This picture just sums up their attitude about this battle - BRING IT ON!

Setback Number One . . .

As my sister would say, I've been a poor internet friend. Does it count that I've made countless numbers of posts in my head over the last month, keeping you updated on all the changes that have taken place?? Guess not, since this is the first time you're heard this. I promise that I will post date a few posts from the past month to bring you up to speed on what's been going on. But this post is in the present, so pay attention. I will give a little background to help you understand better.

As I've told you, we are in the process of selling the house. No takers yet. And not even any offers. That's okay - the Lord knows when and that is fine with me. One of the things we have held off on doing, as far as repairs go, is to replace our carpet in the family room and hallway. The carpet is 10 years old and needs replacing. I know that. I also know that their are hardwood floors underneath, so the new owner just has to pull the carpet up and presto, an instant new floor. As the weeks have passed, one of the questions that has come up from countless realtors and prospective buyers is what kind of flooring is under that horrid carpet. Ok, ok, I get the point. So, I finally take the plunge and decide to rip it up myself. I'm moving anyway and won't have to put up with the hardwoods. I don't like hardwoods in my living space and this room is where our TV is in and my place to curl up on the carpeted floors and watch a movie. The whole house has hardwoods and I have covered most of them up with carpeting - especially my stairs and upstairs hallway - it has made it much cozier and much safer for my clutzy family (remember my cut finger). Yeah, I couldn't see my kids learning to walk up and down HARDWOOD stairs when they were learning to walk - disaster!! Anyway, T and I decided to take the plunge and just do it. Also, as a side note, we had had comments about our kitchen linoleum being to worn and called our best buddy contractor friend to fix it. He finished most of it today. We decided to start in our hallway, just to see what condition the floors were in - we moved in with the carpet already laid, so we weren't exactly sure what we were dealing with. After spending an hour ripping up the tacks, padding and carpet, we concluded that they looked pretty nice. What do you think? And don't mind the kitty.

Yeah, I think they look nice too. So we decided to take the plunge and go for our 14X16 family room. We were hesitant recognizing that they room was pretty large and taking it step by step just praying for great hardwoods and not big water spots or stains. Looks just as nice as the hallway, huh??.

As you can see on the right side of the picture, we have a fireplace and a gorgeous stone hearth. It is one of the focal points of the room and thanks to a very generous Christmas gift from my father, has a beautiful fireplace screen. Unfortunately dad, I can't take that with me when I move. Boo, hoo. Ok, ready for this. We get to the fireplace and continue ripping up the carpet, only to reveal that the HARDWOODS STOP!! Yep, you read that right. They just stop and floor board continues from there on. WTH!! For those not in the IMing world, that means WHAT THE H**L!! T and I were in shock. I checked the farthest corner of the room only to reveal that there were 3 planks of hardwood. The missing hardwood isn't even centered in the room. From what I understand from a long time neighbor, this house had water damage a LONG time ago. We have a postal slot in the family room that the mailman puts our letters in from the outside, they go down a shoot, and we collect them from the inside. Pretty cool when it's 10 below in the winter! Well, according to our neighbor, at one time, a running garden hose got placed in that postal slot and obviously destroyed the part of the floor that is missing its hardwood. Of course, we didn't think about that story as we were so gleefully ripping the carpet up. It's sort of hard to see because of the lighting but the hardwoods just stop where the stone hearth begins. Tomorrow should prove to be an interesting day. Now what do we do??

Welcome Rachel Michelle Groner!

Born April 28, 2005 at 7:28 a.m. weighing 8 lbs., 7 oz., 20 inches long

Welcome to our world little one! It was so exciting to meet you! It's amazing how small you look compared to your 2 1/2 yr old sister! I'm sure Megan is thrilled to be a big sister. Before you know it, she'll be reading you books and playing dress up with you. I can't wait to get to know you better!

You're 1 month old today!

HAPPY ONE MONTH BIRTHDAY, MORGAN LEIGH!!

Look how big you've gotten! You sure have come a long way in your short four weeks! And, I hear that you've hit 7 pounds! Way to go, baby! Or should I say, way to go mommy! You must be doing something right! So, Morgan, how does it feel wearing a dress?? Do you like it?? Olivia picked that out for you. She thought it was so cute. She debated about the color, yellow, but thought it would fit you well. She would have preferred pink. I had to remind her that I'm on pink restriction when shopping for you. That is a hard job when it comes shopping for peanut clothes. I think I'm doing an okay job though, don't you? You're entire wardrobe isn't ALL pink, right?? My only problem now is that I can't stop shopping for you!! I'll just keep going until mommy tells me to stop. You wouldn't tell me to stop, would you???

April Fool's

Is this supposed to be funny? Not only is it snowing in Ohio (we just broke our record of 101 inches in a season) BUT our house went up for sale today!

What a week it has been? We found out on Wednesday, after a very close vote from the pilots, that they voted in a PAYCUT and decided not to lose their jobs. WIMPS! So, with that little issue resolved, we decided to go for it. It might seem silly knowing that a paycut is coming to venture forth with a move but after about 2 months of pay, his raise will compensate for whatever the company will be cutting. We'll break even. That's okay. It's time to move.

We came to this area almost 10 years ago. We lived in VA for the first part of our marriage and then when he took the job with Express, I decided that we were leaving family and going to "The Mistake on the Lake" (as those in Pittsburgh refer to us as). T wasn't even out of training when I made that decision. He came home, I gave him a kiss "hello" and then, "Guess what, honey? I quit my job and we are moving out!". Talk about a surprise! We came here knowing one person, my stepmom's ( I hate referring to her as that, as she really isn't that evil - just kidding Pammy!) sister. I had met her a few times when I was a teenager but that was about it. So, for all intents and purposes, we knew nobody. This is our home now. Our kids home. This is all they know. Why move?? There is a big part of me that is being pulled back to being closer to family. To be able to pick up and drive to Gramama's house for the day or have a niece over to play or to even have both sides of our family present for a birthday party - these are luxuries I have not been able to afford. It's time. I get jealous of my friends who have relatives they can call on, on a whim - they don't know what they have and I do know what I'm missing. And the kids . . . well, they're ready to go. Sure, they know they will miss their best bud J.J. down the street,the kids they have grown up with in the church, watching the lake thaw in the spring, bike riding to the park down the street, but they are excited for an adventure. To have a new house. To have a new room. To help to pick out that room and colors for their walls. They look forward to calling on their grandmothers and having them at their beckon call - well, for the most part. But most importantly, they know they will be able to see daddy more. And that my friends, says a lot about the things that my 7, 5 and 3 year old kids value most in this most materialistic, value deprived, morally vacant world - it's family. That desire to strengthen our family unit and to keep those bonds strong is driving them to seek adventure in this upcoming move. They fully understand the prize at the end.

Can I get off now???

Ok, you've heard me complain about having to much to juggle and all the things that go into my life?? I think I'm starting to drop some balls. When you have way to many of them coming at you, one tends to drop some of them. Let me explain some of the stressors right now that are making me all thumbs.

1. My latest attachment on my arm. Yep, I recognize that this is the one and only way to clear up this bone infection. I keep telling myself that and during the day, I'm excellent at believing myself. But, for some reason, come nighttime, all that work of tricking myself goes to the birds. I wake up in the middle of the night, if I'm lucky enough to fall asleep, with anxiety attacks. You would too if everytime you rolled over, you were concerned you'd crunch the tube attached from your inner arm to your heart.

2. The amazing shrinking base (company) we call Cleveland (Continental hub). Isn't it a great thing that T got to get back to Continental after spending 3 years furloughed to Continental Express as a direct result of Sept. 11? One would think. The company just has other plans for their pilots. Now they can't decide if they want to give their pilots paycuts AGAIN, or just go into bankruptcy. Hmmm . . . .

3. My last post. Although it didn't affect me directly, it has made a major impact on our family.

4. My poor T's awful commute. Since Dec, he has been based in Newark, NJ and not our home of Cleveland. For a pilot, this can be a real pain in the neck. Sure your flight is done at 10 p.m. but you're done in NJ not in OH. This has reeked some major havoc on our lives these past months. He has been gone upwards of 6 1/2 kid days in a row (his days at work are measured in how long I am on my own with the kids). This brings me to point number four.

4. We could move out to the NJ area (actually the Allentown area which is more affordable). But can't because of issue two.

If anybody has the key to stop this ride, I'd like to get off now.

Goodbye Baby Jonhsy #1

I have to tell you that I held out hope as long as I could. I didn't want to believe that you were actually gone and that we would never have a chance to meet you. We will always remember you and that you were the first.

And to your mommy - I can't imagine what you are going through. I never even entertained the fact when I was conceiving my own children that they wouldn't make it. I took it for granted that when I got pregnant, I stayed pregnant. I remember those feelings of elation when we found out for the first time. All those dreams of finally getting the one thing that I have wanted since I was a teenager - being a mommy. And now those dreams just got ripped from their existence for you. How painful that must be. No pregnancy will be easy for you now, you will always wonder, always doubt, always see the glass half empty. I wouldn't blame you. But, as I'm sure you've seen, you're not the only one. That shouldn't make it easier or lessen the pain you feel but it should at least make you feel surrounded with hope. Hope that others, your close friends, have been through this and ultimately, in the end, have been able to fulfill their dreams - the same dream you and I possess. Be patient, little one, your time will come. I love you.

Look at what they did to me!!!

Remember my little accident in the kitchen?? If you don't, scroll down until you see the picture of the sliced finger. Ahh, now it is coming back to you. Well, I first have to preface this by saying that I never had any real injuries or drama when I was growing up. No broken bones ( my sis Emmy had them all for me), no stitches, no major illnesses. There was an occasional stubbed toe nail and shin splints from my gymnastics catastrophes but nothing that made me feel special because I had a big boo boo. Now, in my adult hood, I think I'm trying to make up for all those childhood accidents that I avoided. Don't get me wrong, I am a clutz and I have a VERY dominent clutz gene. That clutz gene is so strong that is has not only passed onto my own three children but via airborne methods, has passed onto my husband. Clutzes run in the family. Case in point - my dad's latest visit to Europe. Apparently, Clutz Gene Number One was crossing a street and not watching where his feet were going. He splatted in the middle of the road and his high tech camera went for a sail. Luckily, he ended up with only minor cuts and bruises and the camera, to my surprise, didn't shatter on the street. But what Clutz Gene Number One didn't realize until it was way to late, days to late, was that his memory stick that held the 150 pictures that he had taken of their visit - flew out of that camera. Clutz. So, this is what I have ended up with from my sliced a finger - a PICC line. Don't know what the initials stand for but it is basically a catheter that goes in my basillic vein and threads all the way to my superior vena cava (the entrance to one of the chambers of the heart). Sound fun, huh?? I have to give myself IV antibiotics 3 times a day for the next 4 weeks. And what is this for. Here's the kicker. Apparently when they cleaned my finger off to put the stitches in in the ER - they didn't do a really good job. There is a bug called Staph that lives happily on your skin, when it gets into your blood stream - it reaks havoc. That little bug has now caused a bone infection in my finger called osteomylitis. I can't really feel any pain but my finger is still very swollen after 3 rounds of oral antibiotics. All from one little kitche accident. Clutz.

Welcome Morgan Leigh Peterson!!!

Morgan Leigh Peterson - March 3, 2005 - 2:21 a.m. - 5 lbs. 8 oz., 19 inches

You made it! Congratulations! I JUST can't believe you are a GIRL ! Oh my goodness! The things I'm going to need to teach you - learning to dress yourself in girl clothes will definitely be at the top of the list! Remember what I just said about your mommy, just one post ago?? Yeah, don't think I was kidding! I will have to get together some pictures of us when we were younger just so you know that I was telling the truth!

Well, baby girl, I am so glad you are here - safe and sound. I wish I could be there to hold you and touch you in these upcoming newborn days of yours. You will grow so fast and I probably won't be able to see you until you're several months old. That's okay, though, I can still shop for you! Ask mommy everyday if the post man brought you something from Aunt Jenni! I already love you and I haven't even met you. I anxiously await that day.

It takes a long time to grow an old friend.

I can't even remember the first time we met. I do remember though that it was a LONG time ago. At my count, it will be 25 years this September. For those that are figuring out when that was - it was 1980. I was 8 and in the 3rd grade at Immanuel Christian School in Springfield, VA. And what was it that brought us together way back when? They do say that opposites attract. I was very particular about making sure my shoes matched my outfit - you were comfortable in your sneakers all the time. I insisted on doing my hair up with bows and headbands - you liked yours down in your face. My mom wouldn't let me have all those sugary snacks, potato chips, cookies and such - your house was packed with them. I can say at the tender age of 8, that attracted me to you - the snacks your mom stocked in your house!! And what about our tendencies to keep things neat? My room was meticulous - your mom PAID me to clean your room!! For some reason we loved being with each other and you were quickly coined "My Best Friend". Then, my parents divorced and we moved away. You still wrote me and sent me cards during that time. Those letters got me through the rest of my 6th grade year - I took them with me to school and read them when I was supposed to be studying. Whenever we visited, it was you that I wanted to see. I missed you so much then. Just 6 months later we moved back and you and I were back in school together. What a dynamic duo we made in the 7th and 8th grades!! Those poor teachers. We were inseparable. I needed someone to lean on and you were there. Although we went to separate high schools, we still maintained our friendship. We saw a lot of each other during the week for Wednesday night youth group and Sunday School. Remember all those skiing trips together?? You and I on the double diamond slopes - look out world!! Poor Steve Holley. And then the unimaginable happened to your folks, they divorced too. Well, at least you had me to lean on - I could empathize with you - been there, done that.

And then there was college. We were at theologically different schools in two different states. I remember you writing me more than me writing you. Was that the way it went? Those 4 years, 4 1/2 for me, passed quickly. We saw each other on holiday breaks and off and on during the summers. Before we knew it, we were in each others weddings, just 13 months apart. Can you believe we both found men who wanted to put up with us?? And before I knew it, you had moved out of the country to Germany. We were at different places in our lives - you were experiencing a new culture, language and lifestyle. I had just bought a house, a minivan and was on my 3rd child. You STILL continued to send me letters and neat packages. I don't think I wrote you once during that time or even emailed you. That time was the hardest for me. I felt so distant from you. I had a hard time remembering even why we were friends. And then, a ray of hope, you moved back to the states. It didn't matter that you were in a different time zone, or even that you were on the other side of the U.S., at least you were in the country. Last year, I made a New Year's resolution. I promised myself that I would make more of an effort to keep up my end of our friendship by emailing, writing, or calling at least once a month. I didn't do a stellar job but it was definitely better than the past few years. And then, you got pregnant! YIPPEE! I couldn't believe it finally happened for you. I was so excited. I also realized that this would be a great opportunity to really be there for you. To support you in any questions you had and to be available to lean on.

To bring us to the present - my mom recently had a trip to Seattle, WA. I was ecstatic to have the opportunity to join her, not only because my kids had been dying to go but because I could finally get together with you. I was really nervous about seeing you. I couldn't help thinking about all those emotions and doubts. But when I saw you walk out of the hotel - they all disappeared. It was suddenly like we hadn't had all those years and miles between us. All those memories we had made when we were kids and throughout the years, all those experiences, all those adventures came rushing back to me. I suddenly remembered what it felt like to be with an old friend. Those few hours we spent together during that short time were invaluable. I was reminded that there really were more similarities than differences. We laughed, talked, listened, yelled at the dog, watched Shrek, talked about babies - I could have stayed for days just to get caught up.

And to our future, I just can't wait. I look forward to hearing from you in the next couple of weeks. I better be on your list to call whenever you have that baby. I am so thankful that we had that time together, Barbie. I want to thank you for sticking by me. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have made it this far. I want to promise you that I will try my best to do better. I will actually pick up the phone during nap time when I see your number come up on caller ID. I will give up my quite time to connect with you. I will email you more often - that means you have to promise that you will check your email more often! I will actually remember your birthday this year - I can't promise that it will be on the exact day but I can promise it will be within the month. I love you, my dear and I am so thankful you are in my life.

Starting off early . . .

As many of you know, we homeschool our 3 kids. I am constantly trying to do things to keep it refreshing and a fun place to learn. One of the things that I have done since Jacob was in kindergarten was to use candy to learn about money. This is our third year homeschooling and Jacob is in the second grade for his age but the third grade for the lessons we are teaching him. Olivia technically is to young for kindergarten - her birthday misses the cut off date - but we have started teaching her with a kindergarten curriculum. Gabi, being only 3, is also getting an early education in pennies. I couldn't consider leaving her out as this event involves food - something she just loves. So this year, I have two to teach about money and one to just throw M&M's at. Thursday's seem to work the best for this and Olivia has aptly named the event of teaching money using candy as Candy Store. She also insists on asking me just about every five minutes when Candy Store is going to be open. Today I had to remind her that if she asked me one more time that we weren't doing it. That finally shut her up. So, I announce that candy store is open and Jake and Olivia run to join me on the floor. They have grabbed our separate cups of pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters and Jake has raided my wallet for any cash he can find. I sit there waiting for them to collect the loot with a huge bag of leftover holiday red and green M&M's, the chosen snack for today. I call out to my youngest to hurry herself up or she's going to miss her favorite part about Thursday's. She finally joins us and plops herself down next to me. I start our routine of asking each child to give me a certain amount of the money they have sitting in front of them in exchange for a handful of candy. My dear sweet Gabi looks at me and hands me her pretend credit card. I couldn't believe it. Where had I gone wrong? Who taught her to hand over those lethal pieces of plastic in exchange for wanted goods? I, of course, couldn't stop laughing. The other two just looked at me with a blank stare. Ahhh, an opportunity to teach a lesson. After I explained to my 2 oldest the many options we adults have to pay for the things we want/need and laid a strong point that credit cards don't take money directly out of your checking account - you can use them to pay for things later, they too enjoyed a laugh! Gabi figured if they were laughing, she might as well too. My dear little Foo Foo.

You wonder how I can type just 6 days after my injury. The swelling is finally subsided and I can now keep my hand horizontal without it throbbing to bad. I am using ebaying as physical therapy for my injured pointer finger. In the next few days, I will post an update of my OWEE!!

OWWEEEE!!

Why I won't be able to blog for a while . . .

I sliced my hand on a broken dish and got 4 stitches in my finger and 2 in my palm. Hurts a little to type!

The Juggler . . . .

And again, we see how much we can handle. Is this a test? I'm sure it is. Let's go over the events of the day. I wake up to a landscape of snow and sun, yes, sun, it's hard to believe in the middle of January but the sun was shining. I do my usual shower, spend some time tending to my ebay auctions and then start the daily ritual of dragging my kids out of bed. I start with my son, and move to my middle daughter and then my youngest. To speed things up, this was to be a pretty normal day. My husband is gone today and it is up to me to run the household. I'm used to it - no big deal. The only wrinkle is that my dear mommy is hear to visit and I'm to take her to the airport. We have school this morning, we homeschool, so it will be a little break in our day. Also, we have a contractor coming to start working on some projects as we get our house ready to sell (yes, sell - that's a whole other post). That's okay though because he will be here after we get back from dropping my mom off. No big deal. My mom and I conquer the school responsibilities this morning with ease. Ten minutes before we are to leave to bring her to the airport, I ask my son to put his new LEGO train set together to show his Gramama (this is not a typo - this is the name she has been given by the first grandchild) how it runs and all the work he has done on it. Basically, my son informs me that he has lost one of the main components that makes the train run electronically. "WHAT!", I protest. To be nice, I run up to his room to help to find this "missing part". Now, take into consideration that this set cost about $250 and was split between us parents and his Pop-Pop (another name given long ago by the first grandchild). So, I'm starting to get a little upset as I start to dig through the pile of unused toys in his dungeon of a room. I just had to lose it and promised him a thorough trash can clean up when we returned from dropping Gramama off. Well, that just never happened.

We dropped her off with our proper teary goodbye's and "I'm going to miss Gramama" cries and departed home. Once we arrived, we continued our lessons for about another 10 minutes when we received a frantic call from our beloved that the idiots at Cleveland Hopkins Airport wouldn't let her on the airplane. Again, another "WHAT!" came out of my mouth. "Why?", you ask. Oh, because HER OUTFIT WASN'T APPROPRIATE. Yeah, that makes sense. IF anyone knows my mom, or her daughters, they know that they are VERY fashion conscious and pay very close attention to what they should wear for what occasion. My mom was dressed in a velour pant suit with a striped shell and velour jacket - so classy. She was wearing athletic shoes as the weather was pretty crappy here today and she knew she would need the support to walk through the airport. DENIED BOARDING! WHAT IDIOT WOULD DENY HER BOARDING! So, we had to stall school, after we finished our Science lesson, and run back to the airport to get her. I was FUMING to say the least. In the midst of that phone call, I had to rearrange my basement so the contractor could patch up the cracks in the cinder block, write him a check, transfer money so that check wouldn't bounce blah, blah, blah . . . . To top it off, they never even gave her the opportunity to change her outfit -that particular individual at the airport - I will disclose his name because he can't hurt me - his name is Reggie - never even bothered to really get her bag. She did happen to receive it after the flight left. Hmmmm . . . that was not nice. This guy doesn't realize who he's dealing with!! Reggie threatened my mom with reporting my husband with a buddy pass violation - "Ummm, do you realize who this employee's wife is? You must not because if you did, you'd know NOT to mess with her." Well, this idiot must not have been warned. She did eventually make the flight, 6 hours later, while I sat in the airport parking lot, leaving every 26 minutes so I could still get the 30 minutes free parking bargain. I sat there for 1 1/2 hours - my youngest daughter was told to put her blanky over her head, and take a nap, my middle daughter worked on her reading and AWANA (bible) verses and my son finished up all the lessons we hadn't wrapped up while we were running to and fro from the airport. Yes, all done in the car. Ahhh . . . the joys of homeschooling - it can go anywhere.

I swear, if I had gotten one more ball to juggle today - I would have dropped my balls. And pardon any mishaps in spelling/grammar - that's what happens when you have 2 chocolate martini's at your hands (thanks Em for the recipe) and you feel your stress leaving your body through your fingers as you try and move the mouse.

Pinky to God . . . .

This would have to be my first post in which I'm going to vent. Sorry for those it offends. Let me start by saying that I am a veteran of financial woes. I've lived with it and bore the brunt of them since I was 11 years old. But the one thing I've always been able to say is that the bills were always paid and our heads were always above water. My one question for you God, "When will it end?" Just a simple answer with the date and time would be nice, nothing fancy, I'm not picky.

After Sept. 11, and due to those events, my husband was basically forced to take a lesser job, he was still working but took a major paycut. We have estimated that over the last 3 years, he has lost about $75,000. Well, wouldn't you know that he basically got his old job back this past month.
"Yippee!!" I say,"Now I can pull myself out of this financial hole I've been forced into!!"
"Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha!!" says God.
Because of my husband's job move, the new company that he works for hasn't been able to figure out how to pay him. So, in the middle of December, they shorted us about $1,000 - couldn't pay the bills. That's okay, we had just received back pay from his old company and that would more than take care of it. Jan.1 - same old beginning of the month pay from his old company. AND an added bonus - the new company paid us what they forgot to pay us in the middle of December. EVERYONE WITH ME . . . So, I ask my husband to give me his best guess as to what I should expect as payment in the middle of January - his guess was more than we would need to pay the bills. Sweet, I think - I now have this added bonus that I really don't need. What should I do with it? Shall I go out and by myself a new palm pilot, laptop, DVD player, TV, Expedition?? No, I'm going to be responsible and pay of 2 credit cards - not PAY DOWN, PAY OFF!! So, I did.

"Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha!!" says God.
Remember the paycheck you were expecting in the middle of January?? Let's just cut that by $1,000. Got enough to pay your bills now??

NO!!!

What can I say? I have a sense of humor. I have thick skin. But I think what I've lost is patience. I'm tired of waiting to be given a break. The Lord tells us to be good stewards of His money. Um . . . .am I missing something here! Isn't trying to claw my way out of debt being a good steward?? WHAT THE HE**!!! My dad always said that instead of the middle finger, one must give the pinky finger to those that don't deserve the very best (my dad is grinning ear to ear right now). Well . . . . PINKY TO GOD!!

Happy 10 year Anniversary!

I must say that this day crept up on me! WOW! It sure doesn't seem like ten years! Happy Anniversary, dear! I love you more now than I ever thought I could! I want to give you a list of the things that make me stick with you and appreciate how lucky I am! Here it goes:

I LOVE YOU BECAUSE . . . .

you take care of me.
you go out and buy me more ice cream after you've finished off the last half gallon only because I said I wanted some after the fact.

you taught me how to fight.

you complete my thoughts.

you accept my crazy family and all it's drama.

you give me the benefit of the doubt.

you let ME control the finances.

you take control when it really matters.

you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to bed.

you get in there and take care of the kids, no matter what the tasks.

you are a leader to our family.

YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND!!

I could go on and on and on. I just have to thank you for sticking in there these last 10 years and loving me unconditionally! I can promise you that the next 10 years are going to be just as exciting and we are going to grow even closer! TRUST ME!!

Happy New Year!!

Huh, another year. Another year to make me feel older. Another year to try again. Another year to screw up. Another year to make us closer. Another year to be thankful. Another year to love each other. Another year to watch us grow. Another year to count our blessings. Another year to wish for more.

Did anybody else have a problem staying up late last night?? Let me tell you, I was dragging my feet. I was reminiscing with my husband about all the things we USED to do on New Year's Eve. Board games, movies, cards, darts and then out to breakfast and probably bowling. I used to last until 3 or 4 a.m. My husband would just pull all nighters with his friends - I could never make it that far. You have to understand that I've been spending New Year's Eve with him since we were dating - 13 years ago. His dad used to be up until very late cooking homemade pizzas. I can still remember him standing in the kitchen, sweat rolling down his bald head, sweatband across his head trying to sop up all that sweat. He'd be torturing me with dangling anchovies, trying to get me to taste one solo. I never did it. He did however teach me to each them on pizzas. He has passed now and has been for 9 years. That memory is fresh in my head. Of him on New Year's Eve, playing with the salty fish.