Frustrated...

I opened the mail yesterday and there was a large envelope inside, you know the large manilla kind. Only this one was white and not manilla. Completely does not matter, I know. Anyways, it was addressed to my old house and the writing was my Dad's. I have not spoken to my dad in over 2 years and the only reason I spoke to him last was because I called to wish him a happy birthday. He has only met my nearly 6 year old a handful of times and only because we were there at the same time he was. This came from no effort on his part. Well, I guess that is not entirely true. He did drive out for her birth which was suprising but nothing much since then. He has never met my nearly 2 year old son nor did he even know I was pregnant with him. He didn't call me after my heart attack or after my son nearly died in a freak accident.
Can you hear the frustration.
Back to the white (manilla) envelope. Inside were three separate envelopes. One was addressed to all of us and one each to my children. I opened the one to all of us and it was a Christmas card. There was a post it note on the inside that said..."Sorry, no gifts or goodies this year....still looking for a job." AAAAHHHH!!! Does he actually think we care about goodies and gifts? He obviously doesn't realize, or doesn't care, that a relationship has no financial committment. I guess the emotional committment is much to high for him.
I know my Dad loves me, he has just never been good at sharing it. I wish with all my heart that I had a Dad. I see commercials, T.V. shows, and situations in life where a father and daughter sit and talk, have a meal together, talk on the phone, anything. I cry. I would've loved to have had that. I try, as best as I can with a complete stranger. I send pictures of my children and cards. I have several websites that he can view. NOTHING!!!
I didn't show my children the cards for them. How do I explain that to my very inquisitive almost 6 year old? I don't know how. She has a grandfather that loves and cares for her very deeply and takes the time to have a relationship with her, even though it might be a little out of his comfort zone at times. She has two beautiful grandmothers who love her with incredible depth, pride, and joy. She never has to question who these people are in her lives. She has people who are not even related to us that show more of an interest in her daily life than this man has shown throughout her entire life.
Maybe it is wrong for me not to show her this card and not continue to tell her about my father, but I want to protect her from the same disappointment and sadness I have felt. Is that wrong? What else should I do? I am worn out from this and have moved on, at least I think I have moved on. It still hurts at times though, especially at this time of the year.

Our Christmas Gift...I still believe in Santa

After Christmas Eve service we came home to eat a little dinner and then to open presents. We have adopted Greg's family tradition of opening gifts on Christmas Eve because Christmas Day is about celebrating Jesus' birth. That is also a day set aside for Santa to bring his special gifts. Needless to say we were very surprised when Santa came a little earlier than usual. The kids were opening presents from out of town relatives when the doorbell rang. It was probably around 8 or later, although I didn't actually look at the time. Greg and I looked at each other confused. Our neighbors are out of town and they are the only ones that ring our doorbell. I made my way downstairs to open the door, confused as to who might be there. I was taken aback when there was no one standing on the other side of the door. Instead, there were presents. I stepped outside and looked around but there was no one around. The street was silent. I called up to Greg and told him about the packages. He came down stairs and started looking around outside as well. He yelled out "Thank you" and helped me bring the gifts inside.
We looked at the tags, still bewildered. We were sure someone had the wrong address but to our amazement, each gift had our names on them and were signed by Santa. Still stunned, I opened my gift first. It was very large and very heavy. After tearing the first section of paper off, the present was revealed. New pots and pans. I immediately burst into tears. Not just little trickles of tears but flat out sobbing ugly crying. I was completely overwhelmed. You see, for the last year and a half we have been cooking with one small pot and pan. That's all we have. It is mostly by choice as we have not made it a priority when spending our money. As a stay at home mom, especially in these economical times, many other things become priority such as bills and food and clothing for the children. We can survive with one pot and pan. The fact that someone knew what I needed was awesome. Greg opened his gift. It was hysterical. The look on his face was priceless. It was complete dissapointment. I felt so bad for him. Inside the box was a Starbucks cup. He kept saying, surely Santa wouldn't do this to me. Have I really been that bad? Tears of Joy and hysterical laughter was all I could get out. Greg HATES coffee, but he especially HATES Starbucks. Well, of course Santa didn't dissapoint. Inside the Starbucks cup was a gift certificate to a Sporting Good's store. Silly Santa. Greg coaches hockey and really needs some hockey pants in order to play on the Men's league. Again, it was perfect. Haley recieved an awesome set of stamps which is perfect for the crafty girl that she is and Matthew recieved an amazing Thomas the Train floor mat complete with a very loud train whistle. It will be perfect for his room because I planned to redo it in primary colors for his birthday. He loves trains. And when I say he loves trains, he really really LOVES trains. Basically, anything with wheels that can move he is drawn to.
I'm sure I don't have to tell you that it wasn't the material things that made this such a special day. It was the gift of love. The fact that someone knows us well enough to give us these gifts, takes time out of their own family to think of us so specifically, and has the selflessness to be anonymous in their giving is completly humbling to me. So Santa, if you are reading this, thank you for this undeserved blessing. I hope that you WILL know and do know the amount of love we felt on Christmas Eve. You are a beautiful spirit. You deserve extra jewels on your crown in Heaven. God Bless you! We will pay it forward in your honor.

Love,
The Kiker Family

I forgot to mention the Third Day Christmas Offerings CD. My very favorite Christian Band. Just another example.

One year ago today.....

One year ago today Greg and I brought home our sweet baby boy from the hospital after a 6 day stay. It was the scariest time of our lives. Seven days prior I had taken the kids with me to the post office to mail some Christmas packages. It was extremely cold, windy, and snowy outside so I put Matthew in the stroller, grabbed the packages and ran inside, trying not to get the kids cold and wet. The line was long so I placed the packages on the table they have along the line and waited. I had some small talk with the woman in front of me, she complimented me on how cute and well behaved both my children were and we talked about the weather. Haley had walked over to the items for sale and was looking at them. I heard a very loud but deep thump. I looked over at Haley thinking she had dropped something. After realizing she hadn't, I looked at Matthew in the stroller and he wasn't there. He was face down on the floor and not crying. I screamed for someone to call 911 and got down on the floor with him. The lady I had been talking to took off her coat and offered it to me to wrap him in when we both realized that not only did he have a huge goose egg on his head but that he was also turning blue. I remember the lady say that he wasn't breathing and I grabbed him in my arms which was probably not the safest thing to do. I started rubbing him and shaking him a little and telling him to wake up. He finally started to cry and there was a huge sigh of relief from myself, the woman helping me, as well as a man that came over. One of the postal ladies brought over some ice for the swelling. I had a pretty quick peace come over me that he was going to be okay but then I suddenly realized that my sweet Haley had been watching the whole thing. I looked at her and told her that Matthew was just fine and everything was going to be okay. She gave me this sweet grin that was encouraging, empathetic, loving, and concerned all in one.

The ambulance finally arrived and checked him out. We got him into the ambulance where they continued to triage him. We had to get the car seat out so he could ride safely. Haley and I rode in the back with him. The EMT gave Haley a little Shark named T-Bone. Haley loved it and still has it in a very special place. While they were getting him hooked up to tubes and oxygen, putting a neckbrace on, and checking everything out, someone began banging on the ambulance door. It was some lady who was upset that the ambulance was blocking her into the parking space. The EMT was so upset with her and put her in her place. We saw both good and bad parts of humanity that day. I, for one, liked the good parts.

During the ambulance ride he was stable so they drove a normal speed without the lights on. Not long after, though, he started getting very lethargic and then lost conciousness. The EMT told the driver to go "lights on" and we heard the sirens wailing and saw the lights flashing. The cars were going by very quickly in the window. The EMT got on the phone with the hospital and was updating them while he was poking Matthew with needles and doing a sternum rub. The air was very tense. I looked over at Haley who was facing the entire scene and she had her head bowed, her eyes closed, and her hands folded and was praying for her brother out loud. It was the most wonderful moment I have ever experienced. I just broke down and wept. To see the image of my 4 year old daughter with enough strength and faith to pray out loud in an ambulance for her brother, I knew I wanted to be just like her. She became my hero that day. The amount of strength, poise, and faith she had that day was overwhelming.

To make an already long story a little shorter, Matthew survived the head trauma with a major concussion and a horrible bruise and bump. We were released late that evening into the arms of Greg who had been at work the entire time, completely unaware. The next morning Matthew began throwing up, a horrible sign of a head injury worse than previously thought. The pediatrician sent him back to the hospital where he underwent more tests, including another MRI. It was determined that his head injury was the same and that he probably had the flu. He started breaking out in extreme hives all over his body, running a fever, and continuing to vomit. It took him 6 days to recover from this in the hospital. Greg and I stayed with him all the time while Haley was bounced around from friend to friend. Greg and I both wound up getting the stomach flu and Greg was actually sent to the hospital. It was a crazy six days and we did not know if we would make it home for Christmas. Finally, the Dr. told us Matthew could go home. We were elated and tired. Sleeping on a hospital floor is not exactly the most comforting thing in the world. But, our baby was going to be okay and we would all be together for Christmas. We went to church later that evening and worshiped God with all that we had. It was a great day.

I often complain about the color of the walls in our house. They are a very very pale cream, basically white. I am grateful, deeply grateful for my walls, but I am definitely not afraid of color. I would love to paint the inside of the house to make it less stark and more comfortable. However, purple, green, and yellow were not quite the colors I had in mind. I like the faux finish look in some areas, but I don't think a 1 1/2 scribbles quite qualify.

Haley decided to give Matthew a few crayons, markers, and pencils the other day in order to "keep him happy". Please understand she tried this a few days before with a RED dry erase marker and I made her scrub her walls. You would think that she would have learned her lesson after I made her scrub those walls. But Noooooo! Just so you know, red dry erase marker does not come off of walls so don't send your five year old to scrub the walls because she will scrub all the way to the white powdery part of the drywall and you will be left with a much bigger mess to clean up. BAAAAADDDDD! But, I digress.

I decided that Matthew and Haley would need to clean the new creation, mainly because I had cleaned 5 other walls and 2 doors and my hands and arms were tired. Where was I when Matthew colored my walls? Let me just tell you that a 1 year old can do a whole lot of damage while you are fixing a PB&J. Anyways, they had way to much fun scrubbing and most of it did not come off but of course I got some cute pictures. I am sure that this will not be the first time.

Does this mean I actually might get to paint my walls the color of my choice? HHHMMMMM????!!! Where are those markers and my toddler? Anyone want to color?

Has it really been that long????

There have been so many times in the last 6 months or so where something has happened and I have thought "I should really blog about that". But, alas, it never makes it and the thought disappears. I have decided to make this much more of a priority since the purpose of this is to create a record for my children of different memories and so they can get an idea of who their mom is and what she is working on becoming. Soon this sight will look different, be a little more functional, and put emphasis on the things that are most important to me. Please keep checking back as my goal is to write several times a week.
Until then, have a Blessed Christmas. May you focus in on the true meaning of CHRISTmas.

Happy Birthday Jesus!!!

Something to think about.

http://www.godtube.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ad178354c7d2f9e66db2

Ooops! Sorry 'bout that. (Grin)

So I am writing this at about 3:30 in the morning. I haven't slept but more than an hour. Normally this would be somewhat usual as I do not sleep well. Tonight, however; I was very tired and looking forward to a good nights sleep. About midnight I awoke to talking. Haley takes after her mom and often talks in her sleep. She is usually very easy to understand during these episodes and I usually get a kick out of listening to her. I went in and checked on her but she was sound asleep. Matthew was also good. I headed back to bed. About an hour later I woke up again to the same noises. I again checked on Haley but she was completely out. Matthew too. As I walked back into my room I heard the noises louder. Picture me in a pitch black room, no glasses, half asleep and doing the strange walk you do when you are trying to discover where a sound is coming from. I strain my neck to hear and quitely tiptoe trying not to wake up the snoring husband and sleeping babies. Then, I did it. That darn lego that I forgot to pick up before heading to bed. I now have an imprint of the logo in the bottom of my foot. Luckily the snoring husband sleeps solid. I swear, our toilet could explode through the roof and he would never hear it. But I digress...

I finally discover the noise is coming from outside. At this point, it is close to 2. I open the window to discover 4 teens having a party. Loud music is blaring, they are laughing, smoking, drinking, etc. Not a good thing. I yell out the window that they have now woken us up and they needed to take it inside. Did I mention the music was blaring? You guessed it, they did not hear me. I grab some clothes that are more appropriate for a teenager to see and head downstairs, lego imprint and all. My back patio, on the main level, has a partition to give a little privacy. I lean over the side of the balcony and tell them to take it inside and turn down the music. I must have had a mommy tone because one of the girls apologized several times. As I walk back in, I smell pot. Lots of it. Yikes!!! So my mommy mentality says "They shouldn't be doing this. Their parents should be told." The other part of me, the one that grew up between two violent gangs near downtown Albuquerque says, they will shoot you and your family if they find out who told." I pray for guidance and decide that I am sure their parents do not know what they are doing (only one teen lives there and his parents are obviously not home). I go upstairs and watch for awhile and they are obviously not going to wind down. I make the call. 911

They come only a few minutes later. I went outside to meet them in order to keep them from knocking or ringing the doorbell and waking up the kids. I tell them the story and they walk around back to try and catch them in the act. I want to know what is going on so I go upstairs and open the window just a tad and sit on the floor and try to listen. I hear a few things, mostly the officers irritation at the teens and the crying from two of the girls. Then the ambulance arrives. Turns out one of the teens has had a bad reaction and believe he might have had a seizure. He turned out to be okay though. I don't really appreciate the decibil level of my husbands snoring until I am trying to eavesdrop on the conversation next door between the stoned, drunk teens and the very helpful officers of the law. By the way, what is it about an officers uniform that makes them so darn attractive, even at 2 in the morning?
Anyways, this whole thing lasted for a little over an hour. The crying, the talking, the lectures, and oooooo the drugs. Lots of drugs and lots of bottles of hard alcohol. Needless to say, all four were arrested and taken out of there. The officer came to the door before they left and said that I was right and everything would be quiet for the rest of the evening. Evening? What evening? My husband is going to be up in a little more than an hour and I am now slightly horrified that I got four teens arrested. Well, technically, they got themselves arrested. I just helped with the process. Oooop! Sorry 'bout that. (Grin)

I love my husband!!!

American girl, through and through

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBagBstjFo4

I wanted to share this video with everyone. Haley learned the Pledge of Allegiance this year and we are very proud of her. We recorded it so we could share it with you and you could share in our pride.

My family, especially the women, are extremelly proud to be American. My mother and I are laughed at constantly by my husband because we almost always cry for the National Anthem and for "I'm Proud to be an American".

May God Bless all the men and women serving our country and risking their lives for our beautiful freedoms that we take for granted. Thank you also to the families of these soldiers. Your service to our country does not go unnoticed or unappreciated. You are prayed for, thought of, and loved.

GOD BLESS AMERICA!!!

A letter to my son

watch this video first http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xg7ZFrGNQns


My Dearest Matthew,


I just put you to bed. Like every night I fed you warm milk while you spun around in my arms trying so hard to get away. You always seem to know when it is bedtime and try to resist each time. I don't know where you get all the energy. I brushed your teeth and sang you sweet songs about how much your family loves you, and especially how much you are loved by our Father in Heaven. I laid you down in your crib and you gave me the sweetest smile. You curled up on your belly and knees and tucked your sweet chubby arms underneath you. I covered you up and prayed over you like I do every night. You didn't make a peep. You are such a good baby.


I stood next to you and watched you sleep in the darkness and thanked God for the gifts and blessings he has provided, especially for you and Haley. I thought of your many accomplishments today, the big and the small. Tonight, for the first time, you walked! You have taken little steps before. You know, the one or two struggled and caution filled steps in between me and Daddy. It's always so cute when you realize no one is holding on to you. You let out this nervous laugh and then fall on your butt and then break out into laughter. We can't help but laugh with you. We have practiced with you so many times. "Go to Daddy," I'd say and off you'd go, holding my hand until you could almost touch his, then you'd solo for one or two steps and then fall into his arms, laughing the entire time. Your blue eyes would sparkle with your big smile. Your big sissy Haley is always your biggest cheerleader. You should see how she lights up when you do something new.


But tonight, tonight you were something to behold. Tonight you let go of my hand, stood carefully by yourself, but reached out to make sure I was there to catch you. You caught your balance and then took off...8, 9, 10, even 12 steps to Daddy. Then back you came. Your bright smile was all I could see through my tears of joy. Into my arms you walked with such joy and pride. Oh, how we all clapped and rejoiced!


Life has a way of whispering to us when sacred moments are occuring. And life whispered tonight. As you released my hand and stepped alone, an emotion surged within me. An emotion that I didn't identify until I watched you sleeping tonight.


What was I feeling? This may suprise you, but the emotion was fear. I was afraid. Matthew, until tonight, you depended on your daddy and me for everything. Everywhere you wanted to go, we took you. Anything you wanted to do, we did with you. But tonight marked, well, it marked your stepping out. Soon you won't want to be carried, something my arms will be grateful for but will cause my heart to break. Soon you will squirm from our arms to the floor and proudly walk alone.


Your first step away from childhood. Your first step away from innocence. Your first step away from home. Your first step away from us; away from our world and into your own.


I imagined, as I watched you sleep, the other first steps that await us in the future. I thought of your first step up the sidewalk to school. Freshly scrubbed with shiny shoes, pressed slacks, and combed hair, off you'll go into the big world of pencils, blackboards, and knowledge. What will you learn? I wonder.


I thought of your first steps toward friendships. When "Bobby" or "Kyle" or who-knows-who next door knocks on our door and asks, "Can Matthew come out to play?" When another little friend takes the place of Daddy as your buddy and Mom as your girlfriend.


And your first steps toward your own faith. God, I pray they come. One foot carefully placed in front of the other carrying your heart to the Roman cross. Hands extended inviting God to lead you as you continue stepping through unpredictable fields of faith.


So, as I watched you sleeping quietly in the darkness, I felt fear. Fear that what we started tonight, we couldn't stop. I had this crazy inclination to push the pause button and freeze this moment as it is now. You, in my arms, forever giggling, kissing, and playing.


But life isn't like that my sweet Matthew. Those who love life must love it with open hands. We must release time and save only the memories. We must remember that with each first step comes a journey of joy, surprises, and gentle whispers of God's presence.


So, I'll let you walk my little boy. I'll release your hand and let you go. I'll do my best to stay nearby as long as I can. And should you fall, I'll rush to help you up. And should you stumble, I'll catch you. And should your steps lead you astray, I'll do my best to show you the right path.


And should you ever grow tired or weary on this journey, you will never be to old to crawl into my arms with those big beautiful eyes and sleep securley knowing that any evil, any pain, or even hell itself would have to deal with me before it could touch my baby boy.


I love you Matthew,

Mommy





In addition to many of my own words, I also used words from a letter I came across during a Bible Study written by Christian author and pastor, Max Lucado.

How is it between you and me?

How is it Between Us?

Sara Groves

Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, the wrong side of the room, the wrong side of the world. Can't put my finger on the mood. It's not melancholy, anger or the blues. I love my husband, my house, my job. Couldn't be any better, and really what else is there? Then I realize I'm forgetting God, and that's the root of all my misery. Lord, first of all, how is it between you and me? .

Chorus: How is it between us? How is it between us? When did I talk to you last, and what has happened since? How is it between us? How is it between us? When did I talk to you last, and what has happened? .

When I wake up I am on my way, reinventing the wheel and saving the day. I have learned this lesson a thousand times, I am the branch, and you are the vine. Apart from you we are mice and men, with our fancy dreams of grandeur and no way to get there. Oh I can think about you now and then, or I can make a mark on eternity. Lord first of all, how is it, between you and me? .

Chorus . How is it between us? How is it between us? When did I talk to you last, and what has happened since? How is it between us? How is it between us? When did I talk to you last, and what has happened since?

So let the wicked prosper, let the oceans roar, let the mountains crumble, and fall into the sea. There's something more important weighing on my mind. Lord first of all, how is it between you and me? .

Chorus How is it between us? Lord, how is it between us? When did I talk to you last, and what has happened since? How is it between us? How is it between us? When did I talk to you last, and what has happened?


this song by Sara Groves says it all for me. Life gets in the way so many times for all of us and then, before you know it, it has been days before we have spoken to God. He is always there, waiting for us to stop and talk to Him. John 15 talks about how God is the vine and we are the branches. In order for us to grow in God, we have to stay as part of the vine, the nourishment we need to grow and bear fruit.

'I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch taht does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.
I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing....I have told you this so my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. '
John 15:1-5,11

I think this life thing is too hard not to remain in Him.

Lord God,
Thank you that you are the Gardner and your Son is the true vine. Strengthen my branches so they will bear much long lasting fruit. Thank you for loving me enough to be my Gardner and helping me to grow as your disciple. I pray that you give me the strength to do your will, not mine. When I falter, I pray that you bring me right back to you and remind me how desperately I need you at all times. Help me be a strong witness to those around me, especially my children.

In Your precious name I pray,
Amen

I want to be like Hannah!

Being a mother is a hard job. Boy, that's an understatement. It is unimaginably rewarding, but challenging nonetheless. When Haley was born I took a year off of teaching (actually 17 months from bedrest at 6 mo. to going back to work). I was horrible at it. I have lots of excuses why I was bad at it, depression, loneliness, exhaustion, but the truth is that I never asked God if I should stay home. I just felt that is what you should do so I did.

Greg had certain expectations of me if I were to stay home. The house should be clean, clothes washed, dinner cooked, mommy bathed, etc. These things were rarely ever done. I desperately missed teaching and knew that I was not made to be a stay-at-home mom but it was the middle of the school year and no one would take me on mid year. Going back to work when Haley was 17 months was very good for me, though not as good for my family. I still neglected them and took them for granted. I come from workaholic parents so it comes naturally.

Greg really had to shake me around and tell me to get my priorities straight. Each year it got better, I think. After 2 years of teaching and a new baby on the way, I felt very deeply and strongly that God had told me it was time to stay home with my children. That was scary for Greg and me and we continued to question it right up until Matthew was born. I saw his face and new instantly that God had been speaking to me.

Staying home has gone pretty well. The house is cleaned regularly, clothes are washed (just not always put away :), meals are prepared, mommy is bathed, kids are well cared for. I feel successful at what I do. I know Greg appreciates what a hard job I have, even though he won't freely admit it. He has made comments when watching the kids for a few hours that he doesn't know how I get anything done.

Recently I have been studying women of the Bible. God brought the story of Hannah to a Bible study I am doing. The story of Hannah is told in 1 Samuel 1 and 2. Hannah, married to Elkanah, was a woman whom God had decided should not have children for many years of her marriage. He did this in order to bring her closer to Him. During this time in history, a childless woman was considered a failure, cursed by God, and her bareness was a social embarrassment to her husband. Instead of Hannah becoming angry at God, she went to the Lord's temple where Eli the priest stood.

The first commandment (Mark 12:30) says You shall love the Lord God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and will all your strength..." Hannah was the epitome of a godly woman who followed this commandment. She knelt before Eli and prayed to God out of her great anguish and grief. She prayed for God to give her a son, and promised she would give him back to the Lord for all the days of his life. Because of her obedience with God, He granted her deepest desires. When Hannah gave birth to her son Samuel, she prayed a passionate prayer to the Lord.

'My heart rejoices in the Lord;

in the Lord my horn is lifted high.

My mouth boasts over my enemies,

for I delight in your deliverance.

There is no one holy like the Lord;

there is no one besides you;

there is no Rock like our God'

I Samuel 2:1-2

I find her love and deep knowledge of the Lord breathtaking. Hannah did not just pray for the deep desires of her heart on one or two occassions. This was how she lived. 'She poured out her sould before the Lord.' I Samuel 1:15 She and Elkaham reared Samuel to be a man of God and gave him back to the Lord when it was time.

I want to be like her. I want to have so much love and knowledge of God that I am able to do exactly what He wants, trust Him at all times, praise Him day and night, and love Him with a love that is so fearce it cannot be described. I want to rear my children in the way God commands. I know, as Hannah knew, that these children belong to the Lord, not to me. I want to sculpt my childrens lives so that they may follow Christ and be one of His. I want my life to mean more than washed clothes, clean house, cooked meals. That doesn't matter to God or ultimiately my children. I want to have such a stong spiritual influence on my children that they remember all the days of their lives. My greatest desire is to be the woman spoken of in Proverbs 31:10-31 and when I walk into the arms of my Savior, he will look at me and say "Well done, good and faithful servant."

Father God,

I thank you for the blessings of the two beautiful children you have lent to Greg and me. I ask that you watch over them and guide them in thier daily choices. May you give us strength and guidance to be the parents you require so that when it is time to give them back to you, they will freely run into your arms. Help us to put You as our number 1 priority in life at all times and to push away all that does not matter. Lord, help me to be a virtuous woman who eminates your love and grace through my daily choices, words, and actions. Allow me the wisdom to teach my children your Word and show them, not just tell them. Remind me of the picture of Hannah and the blessings you gave her as she lined her life up with Your will. Let her godly life be a reminder of how I am to live. You are a great and mighty God. I love you and praise you. Thank you for loving me and sending your Son to die for my sins.

In His precious name I pray,

Amen

Jessi

Jessi has been the only animal that has lasted our entire marriage. Greg bought her for me a few months after we married. We instantly fell in love with her. She has this great personality where she is just happy all the time. One of our favorite games with her is the pouncing game. I swear she is part cat. You crouch down in front of her and lock eyes with her then she slowly moves toward you like a wild animal on the prowl. She doesn't blink or look anywhere else but at you. Then you pounce and she runs around the house like crazy. It is hilarious.

She has always been really great with the kids. When Haley was about 6 months old she grabbed Jessi's face and ripped a chunk of hair straight out. Jessi just sat there and wagged her tail. We were amazed. Haley has always loved Jessi and within the last year or two has really taken care of her. She is in charge of putting her out to use the restroom. Jessi uses the "bathroom" on command. So great.

Jessi has always slept on our bed. She sleeps on my feet. It is annoying at times. She often snores as loud as Greg. That's a lot of fun. We tried to get her to sleep in Haley's room but she would not have it. She would scratch at the door until we brought her back into our room.

It's funny that I spoke of her in the present tense throughout this blog. Our beloved Jessi died last week. She had been acting differently the last year. A microburst (kind of a mini tornado) moved through our neighborhood in AZ and lightning struck our tree. This happened while Jessi was outside and she has never been the same since. Whenever we get dressed to go anywhere she begins to shake violently out of fear. Sometimes it would get so bad that she would go into something that looked like convulsions. It was so sad to watch. She wouldn't eat or drink anything while we were gone. She was almost blind and began running into everything. She even ran away and we didn't find her for two days. We didn't want her to suffer any longer so we decided it was time to have her euthanized. We were able to do it at home when Haley was in bed asleep. She passed away peacefully with Greg beside her. I was a mess and couldn't handle it. The next day Haley went to let Jessi out and couldn't find her. Breaking the news to her was very hard. We buried her in our back yard. Haley made a beautiful tribute to her with Jessi's favorite toys, Haley's heart keychain, and a cross. We sat there for over an hour. I tried to get her to leave but she didn't want to leave Jessi alone. It was really Haley's first experience with death. I would prefer that it be her last but I know that won't be the case.

Haley found Jessi's collar yesterday. She handled it really well. I think she is going to be fine. We will make sure to keep Jessi's memory alive through pictures and stories. We are done with pets for a long time. We really have more than enough on our plate. We live in a very dog friendly neighborhood so we can get our fix. There is even a dog that looks just like Jessi.

We will miss Jessi terribly but we know we gave her a great life during her time with us. She blessed our lives and we will never be the same because of her.

The perfect print

Monday's are usually my cleaning days at home. I try to allow the weekend to be cleaning free, with the exception of pick-ups. So Mondays, my house is usually ready for a thorough cleaning. This morning I came into our kitchen and the large alphabet and animal magnets had all been pulled off the dishwasher and placed just right so that I would have to either pick them up or step on them in order to make my much needed cup of coffee. Isn't that sweet. The basket of plastic ball pit balls were scattered over the hardwood floors tempting the children with their vibrant colors of orange, blue and green. Bleary eyed, I decided I should begin picking them up a little before Matthew realized they were there. I don't know why I bother. Five minutes later (yeah right) they are going to be everywhere again.

In our new house ( I will address this in the next blog) our appliances are all stainless steel, though not as nice as my mom's new kitchen. OOOOOOhhhh I am jealous. Anyways, I went out and bought some fancy stainless steel wipes to keep them looking pretty. Mainly to get the grubby handprint and noseprints from the bottom half of all the appliances. As I began wiping down the appliances I noticed something beautiful. Matthew's perfect little handprint on the front of the oven door. It reminded me of how he was playing peek-a-boo with himself last night by looking into the oven door glass. I couldn't help but smile at the joy he had everytime he discovered his beautiful face looking back at him. I love this age.

Needless to say, that beautiful handprint is still sitting there as a reminder to me that my children are growing so fast and that instead of wiping away the prints they leave, I should celebrate them, enjoy them, and be proud of them. Who cares if my stainless steel oven isn't perfectly shiny. There is time for that. But that handprint will only be there for such a short time. I, for one, am putting away those silly wipes and am going to enjoy the time I have.

Stepping on the alphabet magnets, well, that's another story.

I am so self absorbed

There are a few things in my life I would like to change. Specifically they are things I do, or don't do. Something that has really bothered me about myself is my lack of discipline when in comes to recognizing birthdays, anniversaries, or even thank you's. Don't get me wrong, I remember every birthday and anniversary. I have this little date book in my head that remembers all sorts of numbers, including dates, addresses, phone numbers, etc. I often think my mind is so overloaded with numbers that there is no room for anything else, hence my inability to remember anything not associated with a number. As far as birthday's and anniversaries, I have over 20 cards that I have bought, signed, and addressed over the last few years. Stamps never seem to get on the cards and they don't make it to the mailbox. Then, by the time I realize, it is way to late and insulting to send. I even have this problem with gifts that need to be mailed. I have all the intention and heart in the world but it never fully gets completed. Thank you notes are the same way. I am so grateful for the many things I have, and I am not just talking about material possessions. I have wonderful friends and family that deserve a lifetime of thank you's. They never know how much I love and appreciate them on a daily basis. It makes me sad that I can't seem to follow through with a thank you letter. I was not raised this way. My grandma taught me to write thank you notes. I completely understand how important they are to people. It makes me so sad that I hurt the feelings of others because I can't get it done. I could give all sorts of reasons...I have two kids and am too busy, when I think about it I am not near a card, I never have stamps, or that the US postal service has raised the price yet again and I now need one cent stamps. I could give many other excuses but the real reason is that I screwed up. The thoughts of letting others down because of my rudeness consumes my thoughts on a daily basis, I hate conflict. Mostly, I just hate hurting the ones I love the most.

For those of you that I have hurt by not recognizing you, I am truly sorry. It is not my intention to show ungratefulness. I just stink at this for some reason. Please know that you are all my greatest life joys and I am truly appreciative for all you do for me and my family. I am very blessed.

Any ideas on how to overcome this issue? I'm all ears.

Saturday Morning Traditions

We didn't set out to have this tradition. I guess like most traditions, it just happened. For about the last year, Saturday has been all about cartoons. In some ways, it is one of my favorite days of the week, and in other ways it seems wasted. Haley looks forward to Saturdays because it is cartoon day with Daddy. Greg and Haley share the same love language of quality time. They love nothing more than sitting still with nothing but mindless t.v. It's a good thing they have eachother for this because I am certain I have some form of adult ADHD. I cannot sit still. This has driven Greg nuts throughout our marriage because he desperately wants to sit and watch a full length movie without moving. I, on the other hand, am completely unable to. I have tried, and even gotten better through the years. My mind goes 100 miles an hour and covers multiple topics in a second. I have to get up and do something or I will crawl out of my skin. I think that is why this blog is going to be good for me. It gives me an outlet for my mindless drivle.

So every Saturday begins the same way. Haley comes into our room and wakes up Daddy and tells him it's time to snuggle for cartoons. Of course, she is often not quiet through her excitement and I then wake up. She always runs over to me, covers me back up, puts my pillow over my head, and tells me to go back to sleep for a long time. Sometimes, that is no big deal and I relish the thought of sleeping till 9 or even later. Unfortunately God gave me a bladder and a stomach that often have their own agendas. No matter how hard I try, the bladder screams for emptiness and the tummy for grub. Then comes the fun part. I drag myself out of bed and grab the baby and we thump down the stairs. We are greated by my darling Haley, in the arms of my half-asleep husband, yelling at me. "No Mommy, Go back to bed. Go back to bed." I find it funny that she is sad to see me. She is always afraid I am going to ruin this time for her and her daddy. She knows how I feel about T.V. The truth is, I love to see it. I love that they enjoy their time together and that Haley can crawl into her daddy's lap into that perfect position. I love that they laugh at all the same parts and get excited at every new show. I love that they don't even blink for fear of missing something. I love that through the few hours they spend on Saturday mornings, they are building a bond that can never be broken. I love that my husband is such a fantastic father who enjoys his children.

Now, if I can just do something about the stupid cartoons. Discovery channel anyone?

Preschool ends

My husband and I feel the same way about "graduation". It is meant for seniors of high school and college. Four and five year olds are supposed to move on to the next grade. Basically our belief is that our world is going insanely soft. Why are we giving awards to each child when they don't deserve them? Life is not like that. Not every person gets an award, certificate, trophy, or promotion just because they participate. They get them because they're good. We try to explain this to Haley and she totally gets it. She has always been the one to cheer on the other kids and celebrate thier accomplishments.

I will never forget two years ago, our last Christmas in Arizona. I was pregnant with Matthew and Haley had a Christmas program. She looked so adorable up there. She truly loves to be on stage. We call her our "Drama Queen". She has even introduced herself as Haley "Drama Queen". Cracks me up. Anyways, at the end of this program the music teacher was going to give away some of his tapes that he had recorded. They drew 5 names out of over 100 children. Haley was so excited for each child. She cheered and clapped. You would have thought that she had onewon each time. She didn't win one but never complained. I was so proud of her. I did notice after the concert, several parents were gripping that everyone should have received one because that was only fair. Come on people, what are we teaching our children?

This was not really the intention of this blog but apparently it was something I needed to get off my chest. :) Thanks for listening to my rants.

Today was Haley's end of the year program for preschool. She will be moving on to kindergarten next year. The kids sang songs that they had learned throughout the year. Pretty cute. Parents, grandparents, babysitters, and siblings were there for these 20 precious children. Greg wasn't able to make it due to work so I took lots of pictures. The baby drove me nuts the entire time. The principal could even see me loosing my cool and offered to take him on a lovely walk so I could enjoy the last few minutes of the program, without the banging, shreeking, or constant throwing of cheerios. That was awfully nice. After the songs, each child was presented with a Bible Memory Award for learning thier Bible verses throughout the year, a Curious George Book, and an award for a specific character trait they possess with a verse from the Bible to go with it. Haley was given the Enthusiasm award. Golly did the teachers nail that one on the head. That kid has more enthusiasm than she knows what to do with. Her teacher shared with the group how at the beginning of school when she asked Haley what her middle name was, Haley replied "Drama Queen". Her teacher checked with me to make sure that wasn't really it. I was so embarrassed. We have really let up on the Drama Queen comments. She also shared about Haley's expressive face in a recent picture she took.

I must say, this brought me to tears. I love Haley's enthusiasm for life. She is always the first one to shout out random information if she thinks it will encourage or educate someone. Websters defines enthusiasm in two ways. The first... "strong excitement of feeling". For those of you that know Haley, this is her. Maybe we should change her name to Enthusiasm Drama Queen. Nah, too many syllables to say when she is in trouble. Haley often has so much enthusiasm that her voice gets louder and louder and louder. Apparently, she comes by that honestly. :)

The second definition in Webster is the one I want to encourage more in her...belief in special revelations of the Holy Spirit. Haley has such a heart for God. She fears Him, loves Him, and is learning to know Him. Haley is always the first to pray when you are sad, hurt, or angry. She will just stop everything right there and pray out loud for you. I hope this comes from our modeling. Although our prayer lives are not perfect, they are intentional. We want Haley to hear us pray so she understands it is a conversation with God. There is nothing fancy about it, just come as you are. The day I realized that she understood this and knew it's value was the night I came into her room after a nightmare about 2 years ago. I scooped her in my arms and rocked her back and forth. She said "Mommy, would you please pray for me." I knew in that instant that with everything I do wrong, I must be doing something right. It was a moment of encouragement straight from God. My strongest desire is for my children to know the Lord Jesus Christ and make Him Lord of thier lives. I want her enthusiasm to grow for God. I want her to continue sharing that she has Jesus in her heart with complete strangers that we meet and never feel like she should not ruffle any feathers or feel embarrassed. I always want to hear her making up songs about God's greatness and awesomeness and singing them at the top of her lungs. I want her to continue learning God's word with the excitement that she shows now. I want to continue "catching" her teaching other kids how to pray or who the Philestines are. I want her to always rely on our Savior and know that she is fearfully and wonderfully made.

'For you formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother's womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully adn wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your workds, and that my sould knows very well. My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet here were one of them.'

Psalm 139:13-16

It Begins....

I have been wanting to do a blog for quite some time now.... okay for several years. Haley is now 5 and Matthew is 1. Each day brings so much great stuff to share with people and I never write it down. That's pretty sad since I have the worst memory know to man. I want my children to have these early years written down somewhere so they can read and share when they are older. When they ask questions, they won't have to rely on me remembering.

The main reason I haven't started this until now is because I am not great at it. Although I am a teacher, when I write, it just all comes out like a big blob on the paper. Sometimes it doesn't make much sense and I just ramble on. So for those of you looking for humor, you probably won't find it here. For those of you eager for great literature, I know of a few great books you might want to try instead. What you will find here is the window to my heart. I am proud to be a "chosen and adopted, daughter of a Great and Mighty King". I will speak about his greatness often, but not as eloquently as some. This is going to be a great way for me to reflect on my day, praise my Lord, and cherish my children and husband. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I am enjoying being able to tell my stories. I would love to hear your comments.

Well, here goes nothing!