Happy Day

Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Stella. Happy Birthday to you. Do you think she enjoyed that cake?

It is hard to tell from these pictures, but the morning of Stella's party she fell head over heels down our unfinished basement stairs and landed on the concrete floor. 911 had to be called. They sent all of the big fire trucks plus the ambulance. She was fine. She had a huge bump on her forehead. It was so big, it really just looked like she had a giant forehead. She has a dent in her forehead still today.

I love this little person. She is an absolute joy. She was so excited about her big day today. When we walked into her preschool classroom this morning, they all yelled "Happy Birthday." Made her day.

Life is Just a .....

Well. What did you expect. These cherries cost me almost $6. Stella saw them and had to have them. I even tried to bribe her with a free cookie from the bakery. She has ALWAYS wanted to try cherries. Now she has.

If only my bathroom smelled this good all the time

I have issues with air fresheners. In general they give me headaches and make me nauseous. I also have issues with the urine smell that tends to linger in our bathroom. They bathrooms smell good for a few hours after a thorough cleaning and then the urine stench slowly creeps back into play.
I win this battle for just a few weeks out of the year while my lilac bush is in bloom. It is one of my favorite smells. No headache, no nausea, no urine. Lilacs.


This makes my happy. I planted two more lilac bushes today. That made me happy too.

So you say it's your Birthday....

These kiddos have Birthdays this week. Miles' is today. He is 7 years old. *big sigh* He has always worked a special kind of magic in my life. Could they be any cuter?


We thought Miles might never part with his pacifiers. He used to keep two in his mouth at once and one or two in his hand. He would rotate them in and out of his mouth. At night he would have at least two in his mouth and he would tuck the extras, oh yes. Between his toes. Yummy. Of course he did give them up. Now it makes me sad to think we were in a hurry for him to do so. *Another deep sigh*


Thomas. Our love/hate relationship continues to this day. I can't believe this kid is 7. I still have that shirt tucked away. It was one of his favorites.


It is hard to imagine the impact these little people will have on your life when they first get here. I know it is a cliche, but I love them more everyday. I wish I could go back and convince myself to slow down. Enjoy the little moments. I hope I can remember that tomorrow when I am not feeling all mushy inside because one of my babies just turned 7.

Game on

Every year when the unofficial kickball season gets underway in our neighborhood I know that summer must be around the corner.
I don't know if this is just a phenomenon that occurs here in our little patch of the world, but the kids in this neighborhood take their kickball seriously.
Once the days get longer and the sun is stretching itself into the post dinner hours it's game on. At least a few nights a week there is the inevitable knock at the door and behind that knock there are a couple of kids letting us know that it's game night.
The scene is as about as 'Leave it to Beaver' as you can get. Kids running up and down the street gathering in the 'green space' within our circle of homes.
I need to get pictures. There are usually 20-25 kids and a handful of adults. The sight of it all makes me want to sit down with a slice of apple pie in one hand and a sparkler in the other and belt out my own off-key version of 'God Bless America'.
The usual routine is that Caleb plays and Stella,Miles,Dad and I are in the cheering section.
Unfortunately, during the last game, Miles decided he wanted to play. This was unfortunate only because that meant I had to play with him.
Did I mention that these kids take their game seriously? Did I mention that it is shocking how fast an 8TH grade boy can throw a playground kickball? Did you know that in kickball it is perfectly acceptable to tag a running player out dodge-ball style?
Super.
Being that I am always supportive of Miles efforts to join in any activity, I only felt mildly guilty about trying to discourage his desire to join in the kickball game.
Yet, my warnings went unheard and before I knew it we were up to 'bat'. He understood the kicking. Not so much the running of the bases. This was where my super sweet kickball skills were put to the test.
We ran the bases hand-in-hand. He cracked up the entire time. I prayed to God that I would not get tagged in the back by one of the 8TH grade boys, who apparently have caught on to the new steroid craze.
The other kids were awesome. They whole-heartedly included the both of us. They let us run the bases unscathed.
Other than being reminded once again that I need to get into shape ( I was totally huffing after my base running) it was a really fun time.
I wanted to keep playing, but Miles apparently got it out of his system and was happy to return to the cheering section.
I was afraid the kids wouldn't be as kind to me if I was running the bases solo, so I returned to the cheering section with Miles.

Just one more Piece

This is my Daughter.....




This is my Daughter on crack Easter candy....



Any questions?

Can you find my Puppy?

Just in case you have ever wondered where you should hide if the very scary broom falls very close to you while you are doing nothing more than minding your own business. It's a scary world.

Brave People give me Hope

It seems a lot of people around me have been brave lately. People continue to amaze me. Amaze me so much that I think I can be brave too.
The times that are so bad. So horrific. That we would rather not remember. Not even that can keep a survivor down. The survivors always find a way to bounce back.
Whether it takes 2 hours or 2 days or 2 decades, climbing out of a pit that you have been thrown into can be excruciatingly difficult. Sometimes just when you think you have climbed out something happens and you slip back down a little.
There are things in my past that I would rather just forget. Forget. Move-on. Keep going. But, there is always that tug at my memory. Sometimes it is just a tickle and sometimes it is a full tug-of-war. Memories fighting the desire to forget.
I am encouraged by those around me. Some have come face to face with that which pushes them down. Some have made moves to leave behind that which frightens them. Some have come to terms and moved forward. All brave. All encouraging.
Bravo to the brave souls. Thank you for the encouragement. My prayers are always with you.