School Photos Gone Wrong …

Ollie had school photos taken a few weeks ago. I’m not really into school photos. Posed kids in front of a cheesy back drop never looks natural to me.

I’m about to show you why I didn’t buy any of Ollie’s photos. I’ve taken photos of a few of the proofs for your viewing pleasure. Don’t question the legality of that move. I have no intention of using these photos for anything else EVER.

Photo #1 (aka The one where Ollie doesn’t know what to do with his hands . . . or his teeth, apparently.)

Photo #2 (aka The one where Ollie stars in a Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy commercial – cue the heavenly skies and flowering meadow.)

Photo #3 (aka Welcome into someone else’s living room where Ollie is a giant and his head is twenty-five times the size of the door knob)

Photo #4 (aka The one where they threw a scarf on Ollie, handed him a styrofoam snowball, and then threatened him within an inch of his life if he didn’t look really excited)

Picture #5 (aka The one where Ollie actually looks the most like his cute little self, although I still didn’t buy it because they wanted $45 bucks for a dinky package.)

Please tell me your kids don’t do well with school pictures either. I haven’t even shared the story of Big C sneaking a Mr. T sized gold necklace to school to wear in his 3rd grade photo. Didn’t buy the photos. Totally should have.

If you are smiling right now, I accomplished my mission. Happy Day before Thanksgiving!

That Time I Ran A 5K …

THE race was on Saturday.

My thighs are still sore.

It was sunny and the skies were blue.

But it was also windy and really cold.

I threw up at the finish line.

I now own a neon orange shirt with turkey feet on it.

I was faster than about one hundred fifty people.

I was slower than about six hundred and fifty people.

The race was all trail and almost entirely made of hills.

My sisters stayed with me the entire time even though they could have left me in their dust.

My dad and friend Susan came to cheer me on.

I can’t lie. I am glad it is over.

I am planning to run another 5K on December 31st.

Did I mention I threw up at the finish line?

I’m just classy like that.

Do You Have One Of These?

This is my reading RedDog.

He reminds me of me at ten years old. Body squeezed into any available chair, book open, mind transported to a different world.

RedDog loves to read. He loves it so much that his school teacher actually told me, “He is a wonderful boy in every aspect. If there is ONE thing he needs to work on, and I can’t believe I am saying this, it is that he reads TOO MUCH. He rushes through his work so he can open his book. He reads when we’re supposed to be having discussions. He’d like to take his book out to recess with him.”

A kid that reads too much! Can’t complain about that.

He will be getting a lot of books for Christmas. We have a Kindle. We have an iPad. He will be getting good old fashion paper books. He loves turning the pages. He loves having the books on his shelf to look at and reread.

Big C is a reader too. I was a reader. I am a reader. The Hubby is not a reader. Hannie B is not a reader.

I’m really happy that RedDog is a reader. Do you have one of these?

A Small Obsession . . .

I have this cousin. I think she might be kind of famous. She is crazy talented. She blows my mind regularly, like here, here and here.

Way back in the late Spring (remember it – it seems like yesterday?) she reviewed her favorite pens. Does that sound weird to you? Not to me. I have have been a lover of fine writing instruments since my college days. I used to reserve a small portion of my budget to buy nice pens. Dorky, I know, but a little corner of heaven for me.

Back to her review of pens. She settled on her favorites and I jokingly commented that she should send all of her reject pens to me.A week later I had a giant package of reject pens in my hands. Dang, I hate it when that happens. Not.

Thanks to Allison, I have now pentyped myself as a Pilot Precise V5 Extra Fine Black girl. If I have to, though, I’ll settle for a Sakura Pigma Micron 05 .45mm pen.

Sometimes I’m in the mood for ball point. I prefer the Pentel RSVP Fine Point in black or blue.

Are you a pen nerd like me? Please say yes. Tell my your pentype. And then let’s be friends forever.

The Gorgeous Green Barn …

I have this friend who lives on a farm up in the hills above our town. When I step onto her property, I feel the pull of life in a simpler time. She’s canning food from her own garden in the summer and tending to the horses while her adorable boys run around barefoot picking up dirt clods and chasing dragonflies. In the winter she’s piecing a quilt and getting the wood for the stove to keep her log cabin warm. Oh, did I mention she lives in a log cabin? She is AMAZING.

A few weeks ago she asked if I’d snap a few photos of her darling family on their property. I jumped at the chance because really, I just love them and her boys are so stinking cute and her husband makes me laugh and well, there’s this gorgeous green barn. How could I say no?

So I did my first official family photo shoot. We had about twenty-five minutes before the baby’s nose was runny and he was done. I got some really fun pictures. My favorites involve the barn. The colors she chose for her family to wear in the pictures looked so great against the perfect green.

I loved the barn so much, I snuck up there a week later with my own crew, set the camera on a tripod, and snapped our Christmas photo against the same green backdrop in three minutes time. It was COLD out!

My sister commented that the green paint on this barn is such a bold choice for a color. I couldn’t agree more. I am smitten with it. I can’t wait to share our family photo.  The cards arrived yesterday. My goal? To have them signed, addressed and out the door by December 2nd.

I think this might be the year I get to enjoy Christmas entirely (while not being in Hawaii). I have to thank this gorgeous green barn for getting me motivated.

Confession: I listened to Christmas music yesterday. And with that I’ll end by saying Happy Monday!

Kitchen Confidential …

This is my kitchen. I’d say I spend about 60% of my day in this part of the house (our family room is open to the kitchen). I have been making a bigger effort to keep the kitchen clean – wiping off counters, not letting dishes sit in the sink, trying to keep paperwork at bay.

It’s not a big kitchen, but it works for us. We replaced all the upper cabinets with Ikea cabinets ten years ago when we moved in. My mother lovingly painted the lower cabinets so we could keep them. I like my kitchen . . . from afar.

Then I get up close and see this:

The cabinets desperately need to be repainted. There are chips, scuffs, dings and places like this cabinet where the paint has just worn down after ten years of use and abuse by my family. I have put off repainting them for so long because they were painted with oil paint. Now you can’t buy oil paint in Virginia. The fumes oil paint let off are toxic! I’d like to hire someone to spray them. I wonder how much that would cost. Stupid money!

Then there’s this:

Ten years ago, we had the hideous faux green granite formica replaced by this neutral, linen looking formica. It was the cheapest, quickest option. Now it has chips, scuffs, dings and scratches. We’ve talked about putting in granite or some other solid surface counters for a few years now. Nice counter tops are expensive. Stupid money!

I would be remiss if I didn’t share this:

Yep. That’s my stove. I am too lazy to clean it. No removable drip trays makes cleaning this sucker a pain in my rear! I am pretty sure my mom cringes every single time she comes to my house. Good thing I can’t see it when I look at my kitchen from far away, right?

Maybe I’ll clean it today. Maybe I won’t. Now you know my secret shame.

How about you? Any dire kitchen repairs needed?

One Of Those Awesome Kid Moments…

Yesterday was Veteran’s Day. My Dad was the guest speaker for the assembly at RedDog’s elementary school. He’s been attending the assembly now for almost ten years. I can’t believe it took the school that long to ask him to speak. He did an amazing job! I cried I felt so proud.

This fellow here {giving me his best “Mom, don’t take my picture” look} had the honor of introducing his grandfather to the entire school.

He’s been worrying about it for about two weeks. We spent time this past weekend memorizing his part so it would sound just right. He wanted so badly to do a good job for his Papa.

The time got closer and closer for my Dad to speak. RedDog left his seat on the auditorium floor and headed over to the bank of chairs the Fifth Graders were using as a holding area before heading up on stage.

Everything was happening so fast and I was trying to catch so many moments with my camera while still enjoying the assembly. Please forgive the horrible quality of this next photo, but know that I will forever be grateful I was able to catch this moment before it was gone.

Across the auditorium from me, my boy had bowed his head, closed his eyes and folded his arms.

He was praying.

We tell our kids often that they can pray any where at any time. We remind them that they can always have a prayer in their hearts or minds. But I was completely in awe of my RedDog who knew at this exact moment that the thing he needed to calm his nerves and help him do his best was to have a conversation with God.

He did not care if the entire school was watching him. He needed to pray. He was not ashamed. He was brave and determined.

And then he got up and introduced his Papa like a pro.

That might have been my favorite part of the entire assembly. {Sorry, Dad . . . the standing ovation you got was a very, very close second.}

He Loves You …

Last Thursday the teenaged girls in our church congregation had a big night called Young Women In Excellence. It is a celebration of all the goals they’ve worked on over the year to learn and grow in the Gospel and draw closer to the Savior.

The theme for the night was a take on the song “Because I Knew You” from the musical Wicked. We changed the title slightly to “Because I Know You” in reference to the Savior knowing each of the girls individually and them getting to know Him personally.

I was tasked with finding a small gift to give each of the girls at the end of the night (which included speakers, musical numbers and the displays of the twenty-three girls who’d worked so hard all year).

If you’ve read this blog for any amount of time, you know I love symbolism. Don’t believe me? Read here or here. When I found these little sign language charms online, I knew they’d be perfect for the message I wanted the girls to remember.

If we truly know Jesus Christ, we will understand that everything He did was motivated by His love for us. Our love for Him will cause us to be changed for the better and we will live our lives accordingly.

It may be coincidence, but I am moved by the sign for “I Love You”. The middle and ring finger touch the palm of the hand in the very place where nails were driven through the Savior’s palms. He loved us enough to die for us.

I referenced the scripture found in Isaiah 49:16 and in the Book of Mormon in 1 Nephi 21:16, which states, “Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands…” on a card attached to the necklace.

It was moving to see the girls putting their necklaces on immediately after receiving them that night, eyes glow and cheeks flushed from the spirit of the night’s events.

I really do believe that the Savior Jesus Christ is an individual Savior. He suffered for each and every one of us collectively, but He knows us individually and he knows how to comfort and attend to us individually. Time and time again in my own life I have had this truth confirmed to me. He knows me personally.

He loves me.

And He loves you.

My Boy (In A Blazer!) …

Yesterday Big C got out of school early to go with my parents to Richmond where my grandfather was inducted into the Army Ordnance Hall of Fame.

I had prior commitments and could not attend, but Big C was happy to go in my place, spend some quality time with his grandparents, take place in a little history, and learn more about his great grandfather.

In honor of the event my dad took Chris to pick out his first blazer. He looked so very dapper.  He also looked so very grown up.

Here he is with his equally handsome Papa, my Dad. I’m so glad my boy got to go to Richmond with his grandparents.

Memories in the making. Happy times.

Up To My Usual (Cheap) Tricks …

Last week I decided that a fourteen year old girl should come home to fabulous flowers on her birthday. I picked up a pretty fall colored mixed bouquet for $12 while I was shopping at Target, but knew I could jazz it up with some of the gorgeous foliage I’ve been adoring in my neighborhood.

Armed with my trusty scissors, I headed out for a little walk with Ollie, snipping crimson leaves as we went, trying not to look suspicious.

After adding the leaves into the bouquet, I felt like it needed a bit more filler, so I grabbed some ivy from our planter out back and some berries from a few shrubs we have by our trampoline.

For twelve dollars and some free foliage, this is what I ended up with:

I am in NO WAY a professional florist. I like to call myself a professional faker. I’m happy to poke and prod at an arrangement until all of the holes are filled and there are different levels and interesting things to look at. I think this particular arrangement is effective because I chose a low vase and cut the stems pretty short.

The birthday girl gave me the ultimate compliment though, when she “couldn’t believe I’d paid for a real florist to do flowers for her birthday.”

Shhh . . . she doesn’t need to know. Go to the grocery store. Buy some cheap flowers. Then look around your yard for the extras. You too can be a faker.

Numbers and The Sky …

Four. The number of kids who were home from school with me for the past two days. And believe it or not, they were super happy AND super helpful!

Six Forty Five. The time of morning I caught this sunrise out my front door. Getting up early is totally worth it. Some days.

Thirty-Nine. Pieces of Halloween candy left in this house. I tried a new approach this year and let them eat it whenever they wanted. Now it’s almost gone and I couldn’t be happier.

Two. Bins of Halloween decorations I finally put away today. Now I’ve got to muster up the energy to put out Thanksgiving.

Twelve. Number of trips to the curb with the BIG tarp full of raked leaves yesterday. Ollie rode the leaf pile all twelve times!

Thirty. Number of hours Big C has spent volunteering at the Republican party headquarters working for the Gubernatorial campaign.

Twenty-three. Number of necklaces I made today for the teenaged girls at my church. It was a fun little creative outlet.

Seven. the number of times I smiled yesterday just because RedDog decided to clean his entire room (even under the bed) AND vacuum the stairs without being asked.

Four. Number of cookies I ate today. To be fair though, I was actually taste testing one for a friend.

Eight. Number of cats Hannie B has obsessed over today. Seriously, how can I convince her that they are evil?

Seventeen. Days until the second Hunger Games movie opens. Yep. I’m a dork.

Five. The number of times I helped Ollie get his shoes on today. It’s time for velcro shoes.

Fifteen. Number of pounds I’d really like to lose. (See above for cookies and Halloween candy.)

??????. The number of human teeth sitting in a jar of bloody liquid on my kitchen counter awaiting their turn in a Science Fair project.

I’m pretty sure I should end there.

This Is What Fourteen Looks Like …

Help me Rhonda!

Those braces come off in just two months.

Her freckles are fading.

She’s headed to her first church dance this Saturday.

I can’t stop time and she’s growing up.

I will now go into my bedroom and cry.

But first, a quick story.

Saturday night she took a big baby sitting job. Three kids, one only twenty months old, for six hours. The family lives in the neighborhood next to ours, so I felt confident she’d be fine. I sent her off with my cell phone and told her to call me if there were any problems.

The call came at 8:35.

She was sobbing uncontrollably. I began to panic the minute I heard her voice. She was completely freaked out.

She had put the kids to bed and then gone to let the dog out back per the parents request. It was dark out. The dog never came back to the door like he was supposed to. After almost ten minutes, she went out back to find him and the door swung shut behind her, locking her out of the house with the kids still inside. She could see my cell phone sitting on the table right on the other side of the glass.

Oh, sweet girl!

After praying, crying and talking to the “dumb dog”, she determined that she’d have to climb over the fence to see if the front door was magically unlocked. It was not.

She then went crying to a next door neighbor’s house. That neighbor checked all the windows. Locked. They then went to another neighbor’s who had a key. Phew.

That’s when she called us.

I ended up having to drive over and spend the next hour calming her down.

Why am I sharing this story? For two reasons. First, she is so responsible and she absolutely did the right things to get out of a tough situation! I am so proud of her. I would have been just as big of a mess – probably even now, not to mention when I was fourteen.

Second, she called me. She needed me to calm her down and tell her everything was alright. As a mom who is watching her kids grow up right before her eyes and WAY TOO FAST, that was such a peace to my soul. I went over and held her for a long time and just let her cry. Then we did dishes together and ate candy. It was just what we both needed!

I love being a mom to this crazy awesome girl. She is my hero. Fourteen is going to be great.

Happy Birthday Baby Girl!

My girl Hannie B came into the world the morning after Halloween. I was induced and therefore forbidden from gorging my pregnant body on Big C’s Trick-or-Treat winnings the night before. Boo! I love this black and white picture of Hannah taken when she was almost two months old by my brother for her birth announcements. She’s staring right into my soul.

We did not find out the sex of the baby for our first two pregnancies. I was pretty sure it would be another boy. We were all surprised when it was A GIRL! Especially Big C. Here he is just moments after meeting his baby sister for the first time:

I am torn to pieces when I look at that picture. My kids were so little. Now they are so BIG. Time has passed much too quickly for me to comprehend. I feel a panic attack coming on. Also, look how many adult hands are in the picture to make sure everybody (Big C) behaves. Hilarious!

Oh Hannie B! You were such a rascal baby. This next picture is a favorite of mine because of the story behind it. I took her to the mall to get her pictures taken because that’s what we did fourteen years ago before everyone had a nice camera of their own and thought they were a photographer (ahem, I’m talking about me). She cried for the better part of an hour and would not cooperate for the pictures. The twenty year old working at “Kiddie Kandids” offered up the bathroom so I could nurse my frantic child.

A little snack and Hannie B was out for good. Then this shot was captured, making my little demon daughter look like an angel. Ha!

Fourteen years later, I’ve still got a feisty girl on my hands. But she is also kind, helpful, thoughtful, creative, spiritual, nuturing, and hilariously funny.

She is loud and spunky with a side of dramatic flair and we couldn’t be happier to call her daughter, sister and friend.

I can’t believe she is FOURTEEN. I feel old and really, really proud to be her mom.

Here she is at a fashion show the teenage girls had at our church recently. She worked the runway in her modest and still fashionable clothes! I love you Hannah. Thank you for making me a better momma. You are the best!