A few seasonal selections from our new yardMerry Christmas!
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
We've Been Rolled. . . By One of Our Own!
Last Sunday, I laid down to take a nap just as Phil was going up to work in his new playroom above the garage and just as Wilson was waking up from his nap. I vaguely remember Wilson coming in an out of our room telling me something about train tracks. I assumed that he was dissassembling his train table tracks in his room and bringing them downstairs. When Phil came back in the house about an hour later, Wilson was standing at the back door beaming. "Dad, look at my train tracks I built!" "Wilson, did you ask mom if you could do this?" "Uh-huh!"
He had found several left over rolls of crepe paper in his craft bin- the video tells "the rest of the story"!
Happy Thanksgiving!
Wilson & Mamma working on our first culinary creation in the new kitchen on Thanksgiving morning- in our jammies, of course. (Thanks for thinking to take pics, Dad)Saturday, November 24, 2007
On a side note
I want to apologize for the following two posts being lengthy and without pictures (and now that I'm going back over this one, that it turned out equally as long). I know I get bored easily with a lot of reading and can do without blogs that are a lot of blahhbady, blah, blah, blah and no visual aid to help guide you through. In my mind I have great pictures to accompany much of the Goodbye 215 post, but just can't find some of them and quite frankly, don't have the time yet to put together a montage. I really just wanted to be sure that I captured what's been going through my head the over the past couple of weeks and months and a sort of stream of conscience conversation Phil and I had as we walked through our old house the last day we owned it. It is so hard to believe how much can transpire over 5 short years. I also want to apologize for the negative tone of the Hello 701. We are making progress with almost every box being unpacked and cans of paint waiting to be spread in each bedroom. However, I really wanted to have some of the down moments that we've experienced in writing, because I know, in 30 years or so, we might be moving from here and the memories will be 6 fold or more. Then, when I'm crying my way through not only baby memories, but elementary, high school, and college ones, too and looking around at all the hard work we've put in, I'll be able to have something to pull up to remind me I didn't always love here. But I have a feeling, it will be of no consequence. This will become home and will hold the majority of my family's life and times. As unsure as we are some days, I know one day I'll wonder what we were so scared of and frustrated over. I might even laugh about it all!
*Note to self in 2037 or upon moving day from 701, whichever comes first: click here (assuming we're still using these things called computers and are surfing the internet!)
I also want to take a minute to thank all of our family and friends who have moved boxes, loaned trucks, cleaned things, cooked things, unpacked things, and helped keep Wilson busy so that he hasn't even skipped a beat (or been dragged down by a mamma who's more that skipped a beat- there have been times that my whole record's been scratched!) We absolutely could not have gotten this far without you and you are what is making our house a home already.
Mostly, I want to thank my sweet husband for his tireless work around here. I, of course, am more easily tired out and emmotional these days. It has been tough for me to let go of the reigns and let everyone work for me, and he has had to pick up most of the pieces of that frustration. He's looked for projects to do, asked what I want done most right now, done his very best to make it happen, then come back and asked for more instructions. He's tried to think up things that he can do to make it feel more like home for me. He's also kept an eye on Wilson while I've rested and entrusted those 3 year old hands with some of his most prized posessions- his childhood cars and trucks. I know he's worn out as well, but keeps going (I also know it's been hard for him to let go of the reigns on how you're "supposed" to play with a lot of those cars and trucks, but he's done it anyway.) Wilson thanks you too, Daddy.
*Note to self in 2037 or upon moving day from 701, whichever comes first: click here (assuming we're still using these things called computers and are surfing the internet!)
I also want to take a minute to thank all of our family and friends who have moved boxes, loaned trucks, cleaned things, cooked things, unpacked things, and helped keep Wilson busy so that he hasn't even skipped a beat (or been dragged down by a mamma who's more that skipped a beat- there have been times that my whole record's been scratched!) We absolutely could not have gotten this far without you and you are what is making our house a home already.
Mostly, I want to thank my sweet husband for his tireless work around here. I, of course, am more easily tired out and emmotional these days. It has been tough for me to let go of the reigns and let everyone work for me, and he has had to pick up most of the pieces of that frustration. He's looked for projects to do, asked what I want done most right now, done his very best to make it happen, then come back and asked for more instructions. He's tried to think up things that he can do to make it feel more like home for me. He's also kept an eye on Wilson while I've rested and entrusted those 3 year old hands with some of his most prized posessions- his childhood cars and trucks. I know he's worn out as well, but keeps going (I also know it's been hard for him to let go of the reigns on how you're "supposed" to play with a lot of those cars and trucks, but he's done it anyway.) Wilson thanks you too, Daddy.
Hello 701
Well, here we are. Smells kind of funny and who put all these boxes in here- oh yeah, us.
Come on Jack, you have to come in- don't be scared!
Wow, we've got a LOT of work to do. No, I mean A LOT of work to do. What were we thinking!?
Well, Phil's started with the kitchen, pulling down one strip of wallpaper every time he walks through, commenting "there, that's a little better" each time.
If I flip the wrong switch when I walk into a room one more time . . . and what is the deal with all these switches that do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!
Yea- all the boxes in Wilson's room are empty.
Of course the washing machine isn't going to connect- why would it?
Of course the refrigerator won't connect to the water line- why would it?
Of course there's blue water leaking out of the bottom of the upstairs bathroom- why would it have been fixed like the previous owner said it would?
Wilson finally gets to open the "white box" contents unknown to him- he had to wait until we got to the new house. Once open, the Holy Grail. All of Daddy's hot wheels, hot wheels play sets, Micro Machines, and Micro Machine play sets doled out over a two or three day period. I don't think he left the rug in the playroom for 3 days straight.
Thank God for mammas who'll come and put shelf paper on all the shelves of your kitchen cabinets and pantry and unpack all the kitchen boxes.
Yea- all the boxes in the kitchen and master bedroom are empty.
Why won't any of the doors that go into the back yard just OPEN!
Yea- all the boxes in the den and dining room are empty.
Thank God for visits from old friends who'll comment on how great your new house is and how great it's going to be.
Thank God for visits from new neighbors who are super friendly and even baked cookies in addition to banana bread when they saw you had a child and that make you feel welcome and that you made a good choise in a neighborhood.
Thank God for the first night we all spent the night together in our new house:
"Goodnight, Wilson."
"Know what, Dad?"
"What?"
"I love my new house!"
Thank God the washing machine is finally hooked up and we can do laundry at our own house whenever we want to.
Thank God the refrigerator is hooked up and ice is making.
Thank God Jack has started growling at Wilson again. Not that we won't him growling, but at least he's decided this is territory worth fighting over.
Thank God the plumber is coming Monday morning to fix the toilet- and maybe he can figure out why there's a stream of water running from under the refrigerator.
Come on Jack, you have to come in- don't be scared!
Wow, we've got a LOT of work to do. No, I mean A LOT of work to do. What were we thinking!?
Well, Phil's started with the kitchen, pulling down one strip of wallpaper every time he walks through, commenting "there, that's a little better" each time.
If I flip the wrong switch when I walk into a room one more time . . . and what is the deal with all these switches that do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!
Yea- all the boxes in Wilson's room are empty.
Of course the washing machine isn't going to connect- why would it?
Of course the refrigerator won't connect to the water line- why would it?
Of course there's blue water leaking out of the bottom of the upstairs bathroom- why would it have been fixed like the previous owner said it would?
Wilson finally gets to open the "white box" contents unknown to him- he had to wait until we got to the new house. Once open, the Holy Grail. All of Daddy's hot wheels, hot wheels play sets, Micro Machines, and Micro Machine play sets doled out over a two or three day period. I don't think he left the rug in the playroom for 3 days straight.
Thank God for mammas who'll come and put shelf paper on all the shelves of your kitchen cabinets and pantry and unpack all the kitchen boxes.
Yea- all the boxes in the kitchen and master bedroom are empty.
Why won't any of the doors that go into the back yard just OPEN!
Yea- all the boxes in the den and dining room are empty.
Thank God for visits from old friends who'll comment on how great your new house is and how great it's going to be.
Thank God for visits from new neighbors who are super friendly and even baked cookies in addition to banana bread when they saw you had a child and that make you feel welcome and that you made a good choise in a neighborhood.
Thank God for the first night we all spent the night together in our new house:
"Goodnight, Wilson."
"Know what, Dad?"
"What?"
"I love my new house!"
Thank God the washing machine is finally hooked up and we can do laundry at our own house whenever we want to.
Thank God the refrigerator is hooked up and ice is making.
Thank God Jack has started growling at Wilson again. Not that we won't him growling, but at least he's decided this is territory worth fighting over.
Thank God the plumber is coming Monday morning to fix the toilet- and maybe he can figure out why there's a stream of water running from under the refrigerator.
Goodbye 215
What do you mean we can't close on the new house for 2 more months. How can I possibly sit here for that long knowing how much needs to be done at the new house? How can I keep cleaning and going about life as usual with that hanging over my head.
Okay, I guess I'll pack a few boxes. Then we'll have Wilson's birthday party. Maybe by then it will be about time to leave.
Wow- it's November already. I've really got to pack more everyday if I'm ever going to get it all done.
Packing is such a pain. I've tackled the majority of everything in each room, but each time I walk through I see "one more thing" that I've forgotten and all those one things are really adding up. I just can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that EVERYTHING has to go.
Order the pizza, pick up the drinks, call our closest friends. We've closed on the houses. The movers are coming in the morning and we need to take over a few loads tonight to get a head start.
Wow- these guys are fast. All the furniture and boxes are on the truck and the dust bunnies are really starting to fly. As long as I keep sweeping them up I can't think about how the emptier the house gets, the fuller of memories it seems to be.
We've been at this for almost 12 hours now. It's time to make the last trip over- really this time. I'll check the closets one more time- I know good and well that they are good and empty, but it's an good excuse to go back in each room one more time. There's nothing left to see, but you can still sort of smell the memories. Wilson's closet smells like Christmas- that's where all our decorations used to be, the nursery has a sweet smell- I guess leftover from diapers, baby detergent, and just the sense of anticipation.
Walking through the house one more time, I can remember the first time we set foot inside and deciding this would be the one we'd make an offer on . . . closing on the house and not really believing it was ours . . . A few days later, bringing home our first puppy. Sitting on the floor to watch TV because we had no where to put it, sleeping on mattresses on the floor because we didn't have a bed yet . . . filling puppy toys with peanut butter to keep Jack out of the adhesive as we installed wood floors . . . there's the spot in the kitchen that Phil learned even unloaded, a nail gun can blow a hole straight through tile . . . Phil walking in with a bottle of bubbles from the grocery- "wonder what Jack'll think of these?" . . . I think Jack's lonely, we should get him a friend . . . Jack LOVES his new playmate Tate and drags him around the house on his blanket so his baby friend can keep up with him . . . Phil's first "real" Christmas tree . . . building a bungalow for our dogs (to teethe on) . . ."does this look like two pink lines to you?" . . . sleeping in on Saturday mornings for the last few times and waking up to watch Trading Spaces . . . sitting in the rocker in a nursery yet to be used, listening to lullabies, wondering what this new creature would be like. . . bringing home Wilson from the hospital . . . watching Jack and Tate trying to figure him out by sticking their snouts through the cracks in the cradle and taking in a few good sniffs . . . Baby Wilson memories come flooding in by the thousands, almost too many to process . . . first bathes in a little blue tub . . . "look up at the ducky in the picture so I can get your back teeth" . . . a little grinning face peering over the edge of the crib the first time he learned to stand up . . . getting lost in thought for hours in the sand box, getting lost in thought for a year and a half with cars . . . the morning of his 2nd birthday when he woke up to find his train table all set up in his room. . . potty training . . . moving to his big boy room . . . the sound of a Cozy Coupe racing through the den . . . "Wilson, I think we're going to have a new baby- want to go tell Dad?". . . better check the back yard one more time- the tree has lost all its leaves in one day (today) as usual- almost wish we could rake them up and jump in one more time . . . goodbye swing set- wonder how long it will take before Wilson realizes that you're not coming with us . . . goodbye dog, boy, daddy chases . . . goodbye kitchen- burned suppers, birthday cakes, snacks at the bar, playing in cool whip in the high chair . . . goodbye room- loving, laughing, fighting, comforting, dreaming . . .
Time to turn the lights off one more time, lock our last key in, close the garage, back down the driveway. Goodbye 215.
Crap, I forgot to get our shampoo out of the shower. Who wants to go to Walmart!?
Okay, I guess I'll pack a few boxes. Then we'll have Wilson's birthday party. Maybe by then it will be about time to leave.
Wow- it's November already. I've really got to pack more everyday if I'm ever going to get it all done.
Packing is such a pain. I've tackled the majority of everything in each room, but each time I walk through I see "one more thing" that I've forgotten and all those one things are really adding up. I just can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that EVERYTHING has to go.
Order the pizza, pick up the drinks, call our closest friends. We've closed on the houses. The movers are coming in the morning and we need to take over a few loads tonight to get a head start.
Wow- these guys are fast. All the furniture and boxes are on the truck and the dust bunnies are really starting to fly. As long as I keep sweeping them up I can't think about how the emptier the house gets, the fuller of memories it seems to be.
We've been at this for almost 12 hours now. It's time to make the last trip over- really this time. I'll check the closets one more time- I know good and well that they are good and empty, but it's an good excuse to go back in each room one more time. There's nothing left to see, but you can still sort of smell the memories. Wilson's closet smells like Christmas- that's where all our decorations used to be, the nursery has a sweet smell- I guess leftover from diapers, baby detergent, and just the sense of anticipation.
Walking through the house one more time, I can remember the first time we set foot inside and deciding this would be the one we'd make an offer on . . . closing on the house and not really believing it was ours . . . A few days later, bringing home our first puppy. Sitting on the floor to watch TV because we had no where to put it, sleeping on mattresses on the floor because we didn't have a bed yet . . . filling puppy toys with peanut butter to keep Jack out of the adhesive as we installed wood floors . . . there's the spot in the kitchen that Phil learned even unloaded, a nail gun can blow a hole straight through tile . . . Phil walking in with a bottle of bubbles from the grocery- "wonder what Jack'll think of these?" . . . I think Jack's lonely, we should get him a friend . . . Jack LOVES his new playmate Tate and drags him around the house on his blanket so his baby friend can keep up with him . . . Phil's first "real" Christmas tree . . . building a bungalow for our dogs (to teethe on) . . ."does this look like two pink lines to you?" . . . sleeping in on Saturday mornings for the last few times and waking up to watch Trading Spaces . . . sitting in the rocker in a nursery yet to be used, listening to lullabies, wondering what this new creature would be like. . . bringing home Wilson from the hospital . . . watching Jack and Tate trying to figure him out by sticking their snouts through the cracks in the cradle and taking in a few good sniffs . . . Baby Wilson memories come flooding in by the thousands, almost too many to process . . . first bathes in a little blue tub . . . "look up at the ducky in the picture so I can get your back teeth" . . . a little grinning face peering over the edge of the crib the first time he learned to stand up . . . getting lost in thought for hours in the sand box, getting lost in thought for a year and a half with cars . . . the morning of his 2nd birthday when he woke up to find his train table all set up in his room. . . potty training . . . moving to his big boy room . . . the sound of a Cozy Coupe racing through the den . . . "Wilson, I think we're going to have a new baby- want to go tell Dad?". . . better check the back yard one more time- the tree has lost all its leaves in one day (today) as usual- almost wish we could rake them up and jump in one more time . . . goodbye swing set- wonder how long it will take before Wilson realizes that you're not coming with us . . . goodbye dog, boy, daddy chases . . . goodbye kitchen- burned suppers, birthday cakes, snacks at the bar, playing in cool whip in the high chair . . . goodbye room- loving, laughing, fighting, comforting, dreaming . . .
Time to turn the lights off one more time, lock our last key in, close the garage, back down the driveway. Goodbye 215.
Crap, I forgot to get our shampoo out of the shower. Who wants to go to Walmart!?
Monday, November 12, 2007
Everything Dear to Me is Packed in a Liquor Box
That sort of sums things up. The move is looking more and more official around here. We're down to ketchup and milk only in the fridge, a few can of veggies in the pantry and our dust bunnies to keep us company around the house. That is until you get to Wilson's room. I still haven't braved packing his things. This morning he noticed that I had packed all the den toys. We both had a bit of a melt down as I tried once again to explain that in a few days this house won't be our house anymore so we have to pack all our things so they'll be with us at the new house. We're reading The Bernstain Bears Moving Day to help with the transition. "The bears didn't always live in their tree house down sunny dirt road . . ." It actually fits our situation quite nicely because, little known fact, the Bear family had to do a bit of fixing up around the tree house before it was just perfect. Their new house also has an upstairs & a downstairs, like our new house, which is of much greater interest to Wilson. His only comment on the "fixing up" is that our new house is stinky. I've assured him we're having it cleaned and then we'll paint and that should take care of it smelling different from our current home. We'll see. I still get choked up every time we get to the page when they've put the last box onto the truck and they are looking into their empty cave. I'm not looking forward to taking that last look into our empty cave- we've had a great time in this house. But, it is time to move on and put some love into a new one. Please pray for us as we complete this process. Oh, and send some potpourri.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Three
Three. He's three. I really can't believe it. I have a three year old. That sounds like an official child to me, not a baby. This puts me into pretty scary territory. I feel like I'm pretty good with babies and toddlers, but kids are a whole other ball game. They think a lot, and they talk even more. Discipline is becoming more and more about the heart and not just keeping him from hurting himself. He's spending time in the world without me, which means there are now hurt feelings and dissapointments I can't prepare him (or me) for. I feel pretty much unequipped to entertain, educate, challenge, shepard, and cope with a lot of these challenges. Add to the mix we're about to have A GIRL, which really makes me feel like a fish out of water, and I'm pretty much overwhelmed! On the up side as we've gotten closer to 3 and further from 2, the little guy has gotten so much sweeter. He regularly gives hugs and kisses and tells us that we're his best friends. He's making more and more discoveries and it's so fun to watch the world unfold in front of him and to listen to him tell his findings in his own words. He's loving school and sunday school and doing a great job sitting through the first half of "Big Church". He's really looking forward to his littler sister finally getting here- he pokes on her and tries to get her to play. He also will shake my tummy and ask it "are you getting big!?" It's with a little fear, much anticipation and total reliance upon the Lord that I look forward to what the next year holds for all of us. Happy Third Birthday, Wilson!! Daddy and I love you!
So here are some pictures of the day- thanks to everyone who made is so special!
So here are some pictures of the day- thanks to everyone who made is so special!
These were the pumpkin cookies Wilson took to school. We had a lot of fun making them- you spoon a few colors of glaze on & then finger paint!
The night before Wilson's birthday, Paw brought over some special Jack-O-Lanterns for Wilson's party
Opening his presents- he walked into the kitchen with me to get his breakfast and as I was pouring his milk he noticed all the packages sitting by the table- "hey, mom- who did that?! Are those for me, can I open them?"
Dressed, playing patiently with some of his new cars, and waiting on mom & dad to wake up enough to take the tricycle out for it's first spin around the block.
Riding with Dad
Putting up his new tent with Daddy
. . .
For his party we had a Halloween Carnival, everyone could wear their costumes. I woke him up from his nap about 5 minutes before his friends got here and about 5 minutes after all his great-grandparents and grandparents had already gotten here. Needless to say, he had quite the greeting committee. He was so overwhelmed that he never made it into his costume!
Here are some guests enjoying the beautiful day:
Wilson & Big Daddy testing out the tent
When it came time to sing and blow out candles, Wilson was again, a little shy about being in the spot light. Daddy joined him and then he was able to blow all the candles out!
Time to dig in!
Here's Wilson watching his friends open his presents. Again, not one for the spot light, he'd let them open, but then quickly stashed the loot under the table when they were finished!
Wilson and great granddaddy, Poppie
Wilson & Pat Pat
Our Three Year Old Family
Wilson, Daddy, & Granna putting together the neat garage that Pat Pat & Paw gave him
It was hard to go to bed after a day filled with so much excitement. So, he didn't. He and Daddy moved his tent into his room and had an indoor campout! . . .
On a side note, I checked the ticker to be sure that it had made it to "3" and noticed that the one under Miller said that I had 88 days left. Yea! Finally double digits- it sounds even better to say that I only have about 10 weeks to go. We had another sonogram Tuesday and everything looked great- she was laying crossways and face down so really all we saw was her back and that answered why I feel her all over. She's completely sprawled out and horizontal!
Friday, October 19, 2007
The Fair
Cows like carrots
Goats like to be scratched
Wilson's like to ride down BIG slids with their Daddies
Daddy & Wilson riding on the dragon roller coaster
There's nothing wrong with a couple of guys hanging out in their pink, sparkly Jeep
Milking a cowMonday, October 15, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
The Beans Have Been Spilled
On my last post, I casually mentioned that I needed to be packing, but gave little (ok- no explination). We are moving! The move date will be sometime in the middle of November. We have had the house for a little while now, we've just been waiting to make the official announcement until we had a closing date, which we are still waiting on- at least we're down to a definite week! Our family has been so blessed, thus far, at how simple & relatively easy this process has gone. We've had (and still have) so many friends that have had such a hard time either finding a house or selling one, that I really feel a little guilty telling the story, but for those of you who haven't heard- I'll give you a short version. The Lord has truly been gracious to us!
Early this summer our realtor called us to let us know that there was house for sale in an older neighborhood that we love (okay, stalk for available houses) in the city we currently live. She said she didn't know much about it but it was a good price for the square footage. We took a look and decided that while it would be quite the updating project, the space was perfect for us and too good of a deal to pass up. So, we made an offer and had a contract on the home. There were several things found in the home inspection that we felt needed to be repaired before we were willing to buy, but the owner was not willing to fix things. So, we let it go and decided this was just not the time for us to move- we hadn't really been looking anyway.
Well, a couple of months later I was looking at real estate online and saw that the house was still for sale and the price had been lowered considerably. We gave our realtor a call and she found out that they had done a lot of the repairs we wanted. So, we made another offer and the home owner accepted!
In the meantime, the realtor showing the house had a young couple looking for their first home who had had a hard time finding something they liked and deciding to make an offer before the house sold. So, she asked if she could show them our house before we put it on the market. We agreed, they liked it, and now it looks like we should all be playing trading spaces in a little over a month!
I wish I had a photo of the outside to post, but it has already been taken off the web. We'll definitely post some before & after's as we make progress on the renovations!
Early this summer our realtor called us to let us know that there was house for sale in an older neighborhood that we love (okay, stalk for available houses) in the city we currently live. She said she didn't know much about it but it was a good price for the square footage. We took a look and decided that while it would be quite the updating project, the space was perfect for us and too good of a deal to pass up. So, we made an offer and had a contract on the home. There were several things found in the home inspection that we felt needed to be repaired before we were willing to buy, but the owner was not willing to fix things. So, we let it go and decided this was just not the time for us to move- we hadn't really been looking anyway.
Well, a couple of months later I was looking at real estate online and saw that the house was still for sale and the price had been lowered considerably. We gave our realtor a call and she found out that they had done a lot of the repairs we wanted. So, we made another offer and the home owner accepted!
In the meantime, the realtor showing the house had a young couple looking for their first home who had had a hard time finding something they liked and deciding to make an offer before the house sold. So, she asked if she could show them our house before we put it on the market. We agreed, they liked it, and now it looks like we should all be playing trading spaces in a little over a month!
I wish I had a photo of the outside to post, but it has already been taken off the web. We'll definitely post some before & after's as we make progress on the renovations!
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
My Career Makeover
Every so often when I just really have nothing better to do (or am just procrastinating from finishing 3 of 4 paintings or say packing my entire house!), I check in with the people at Tickle Tests to see what they have enlightening to say about me through their little quizes. Today, I took the career makeover. Sometimes I agree with them, but today- I have to say the answer seems to be from somewhere in left field. I love that one of my career options is news anchor, when I answered the question "where would I go for news" with "I don't follow the news". Or that another option is socialite- is that even a career? I must have missed that in the college course catalog. How did that come up as an option- I put that Hollywood gossip was a waste of time!? However, I do like the way I look illustrated in a cruise director's uniform and might could put up with living in Oprah's shoes for a day or two- I am after all the "soul doctor to the world".
The Career Makeover
My Result: Cruise Director
Who's like you:
Oprah Winfrey
Likely careers:
Talk show host, HR director, news anchor, teacher, spiritual leader, socialite
Monday, October 01, 2007
First Day of October in Mississippi
I am wearing corduroy pants and a 3/4 length sleeve shirt, inside, perfectly comfortable. My son is playing in his swimming pool with his boats, outside, sweating to death in a swimsuit. Happy Deep South Fall, everyone!
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Two Great Emails
I'm posting two of the greatest "mom emails" I've gotten in awhile. I always hate forwarding this kind of stuff, so here you're subjected to it under your on free will- if you'd like a copy, let me know.
The first is a great reminder of how important our work is not only to our children, but to us and our relationship with God. When you've dried your tears, watch the video. You'll probably cry again, but this time because you'll be laughing so hard at our day put to music.
Enjoy! :
I'm invisible.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.
She's going - she's going - she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
* No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
* These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
* They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
The underlined statement makes sense. When things are done wrong, everyone sees it.
"Therefore encourage one another, and let each one help to strengthen his friend, as in fact you do." 1 Thessalonians 5:11
The first is a great reminder of how important our work is not only to our children, but to us and our relationship with God. When you've dried your tears, watch the video. You'll probably cry again, but this time because you'll be laughing so hard at our day put to music.
Enjoy! :
I'm invisible.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.
She's going - she's going - she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
* No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
* These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
* They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
The underlined statement makes sense. When things are done wrong, everyone sees it.
"Therefore encourage one another, and let each one help to strengthen his friend, as in fact you do." 1 Thessalonians 5:11
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Budding Artist
Since you don't all get the privilege of having Wilson jump in your car after school and yell, "Hey Mama, look what I made!", I thought I'd share some pictures of his creations from Big School.
This was the picture from the first day that we were completing at 8:00 that night because he didn't want to get his hands dirty at school.
Red Circle week 
Painting skills- each week they have a color and shape that they look for
The above 2 are from the "God bless my friends & family" week
This week is "I am special"
As you can see, I think it's time to get my camera serviced- sorry these are blurry. Guess we'll be having a field trip to De Ville Camera later!
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