Burger Night

I have had a hamburger ever January 28th for 4 years now. It is a tradition, a funny one for a family of most of the time vegetarians, be we honor it faithfully.  Our tradition began, like I said, 4 years ago, and it was actually more of a lunch time meal rather than dinner.  After a morning spent sort of lounging around, not really doing much and with me in bed most of the day, this little lady arrived in my life:

From a very early age, Lila has been set in her ways, doesn’t like to be disturbed and not the most agreeable regarding things that are not her idea – I don’t think being born was really her idea either

And since I had not had a single thing to eat, minus a secret popcicle snuck in by Shannie, while I was waiting for the girl….we were famished!

By the way, that bed I was lounging in was at Baptist Women’s Hospital and I was actually doing a WHOLE lot but most of it without me having any control over any of it.  Babies and bodies have a way of working together without there being a whole lot of thinking involved.

Shortly after we had admired and counted and oohed and aahed over our new little bird, my stomach growled.  It was a big, loud, feel it in your spin growl and being the man, the father, the provider – Brandon immediately asked if I wanted something to eat.  Again, I can’t say this enough, but unless I am especially stressed or pregnant, I don’t really have anything to do with meat.  But after pushing out a baby, my meal of choice was a burger with fries from Five Guys.  And about an hour later, there I happily sat, with my new addition in one hand and my baby girl in the other.

Yesterday Birdie turned 3.

This is what 3 looks like

She is officially referred to as a Preschooler now.  She does all the things the rest of us do, except she still sleeps behind bars and has to have a little assist when getting on the toilet, but otherwise, babyhood is a complete thing of the past.  Bottles left a long time ago, there’s not a one in our house.  The beloved “sosa” (pacifier) left a few weeks ago when it rubbed a raw spot on her chin.  I’m pretty sure that wasn’t so much sosa’s fault as her stuffy nose, which caused her to be quite the mouth breather, which lead to drool…..which led to the raw spot…..but I’ll take it because if you do Lila dirty, she’s over you pretty quick.  She is in dance class now, a class meant for 3-4 year olds, but because she showed great promise and tenacity, she was allowed to join even though she was still weeks shy of her 3rd birthday.  She hangs up her things and always sets her shoes just so against the wall before going in.  I get a kiss good-bye and she tells me to have fun.

She’s a big girl now.

Favorite hat – she is Lila Bird, isn’t she?

We go to the grocery store….often.  I have an app on my phone which I check several times while we are at the grocery store to see which coupons I have.  Lila also has a phone (and if it’s not available she will use her shoe or even a pantyliner should that be attainable from my purse…..she is not picky) and while we walk down the aisles of Kroger, she will search her “phone” tirelessly looking for deals.  She alerts me to things that she sees on her “phone” which usually correspond with items that she would like me to put in my cart.  I think she has just gleaned from watching me that that is just how grocery shopping is done – pause in front of something, look on the phone, scroll around and then put it in the cart.

My kids all have chores, laundry gathering and putting away, trash, and of course yard work. She picked this chore all herself – no one tells Lila she’s too little!

She has opinions and preferences.  She is no push-over and will stand her ground, even when there’s really no reason to get all dramatic.  She has no patience what so ever.  She is put out with at least one of us at all times.  But those of us who are on her good-side, we reap the rewards big-time.  Lila is an avid player with of hair.  She will brush your hair, twisting it around, stepping back to admire her work and gently stroke your face.  She will sing to you and hold your hand – she is some of the best company this girl has ever had.  She is starting to speak with her own liitle drawl and it makes my heart happy every time I hear her say “buddah and huuney” when I ask her what she wants for breakfast.  She referred to her ponies collectively as y’all the other day when telling them they needed to get into their box for clean up.

This looks so sweet and precious, trying to be a big girl and help…..I don’t remember exactly, but I have a pretty good idea that she had been told not to do this , that mama would help her…..who needs mama

Babies don’t say “Y’all”.

I believe that I asked her to stand by the fence and smile pretty for mama – this is what I got

She is the size of a baby, 26lbs and 34 inches, still not even wearing 2T clothes and wearing only a size 5 shoe, that has PLENTY of room to grow.  But baby she is not.  She takes her breakfast the same every morning, honey/butter on toast but “no cook” (bread and butter with honey NOT toasted!) applesauce or a fruit cup and a cheese stick….while sitting in her high chair and watching her shows.  That’s what she calls them, her shows – favorites these days are Daniel Tiger and Dinosaur Train.  She likes to dress herself, but never can quite get her shirts on over her head.  And she insists on wearing her shoes on the wrong feet.  Birdie, for some reason, puts an f sound at the beginning of certain words – dresses are fresses, horse is forse.  And she doesn’t say the right tense of certain words.  “Mama food me please” was said just tonight when she was ready to eat.  She is stuck right in the middle of that hilarious and equally frustraiting point of wanting so badly to do everything herself, but having no real idea just how to do anything.  Leave me alone and help me.  That is the theme of our days.  But she doesn’t give up, she may call our for a hand, admit that she’s stuck, but she continues to try and for that I am proud.  Though she be but little,  she is fierce.

Ms. Neely – she is on Lila’s list of favorites. Getting her nails done is also on Lila’s list of favorites

Being two was pretty serious stuff

Last night marked 4 dates of 5 Guys Burgers on January 28th.  This time, she had her own sandwich, a grilled cheese, which she ate every scrap of.  She also ate her weight in french fries, but who’s keeping track? Happy 3rd birthday my no longer baby, Baby.  And may there be many more burgers to come.

The Day We Skipped

First and foremost, I have to say thank you to those of you who left sweet comments after my last blog post.  But even more than the thoughtful words, your prayers and thoughts meant the world to our little family.  It has not been our easiest last few days, for such a small little creature that really didn’t do much of anything with his days, Crosby’s absence in our lives feels like the lights have been turned out.  But we are doing pretty good now.  I can’t speak for everyone, but I think we are all just pretending that he is in the other room.  Sitting and watching tv the other night, he wasn’t on his bed and rather than correct it, I went ahead and let my mind just assume that he was in the other room sleeping on his carpet.  My not really thinking about it, intentionally lying to myself has been working fine until today when I went to cut up an apple for Lila.  Crosby loved apples and as soon as he would hear me pull out the cutting board, he would be right there……waiting.  Today was the first day ever (because I really don’t think I cut up a lot of apples in college and it was pretty much right after that when Crosby came along) that I threw away the apple core.

I miss my apple-eating Labbie

But even though I am still sad, we are celebrating big time here.  I hate that I was too busy celebrating on the actual day to write-up a proper post, and then the next day…..well, it just didn’t feel right.

But today feels right and she deserves to not wait another day for her mama to shout out to the world how proud we all are of Mattie Belle conquering her first decade.

It is cliché as can be, but I really have no idea where the time has gone!  The first two years or so, I’ll be honest, I felt every minute of those.  Time did not necessarily fly back in those days.  But with every kid I’ve added since, it’s like days are hours and I blink and they are a foot taller.  Sleeping every night just seems foolish because I’ll miss whole grades that way.  By next week, they will be married and having children of their own.

So for just a moment, here tonight, I am going to savor my 10-year-old Mattie.

Rather than tell you about what she used to do and what our first days together included, I want to wallow in the girl she is right this very minute.  She is just that, still very much a little girl – thankfully naive to much of the world around her, but at the same time plenty aware of the sadness, the realness, the harshness of what goes on outside of her lovely little neighborhood.  She makes me give my cash to the homeless people who line our intersections.  We rescue birds from our garage and she cries at every single movie involving an animal – whether they die or not, put an animal in it and Mattie will weep at some point.  She has a fascination with Little House on the Prairie and almost lost her mind when Mumsey made she and Lila their very own Laura and Carrie nightgowns.  She even sleeps with her little sleeping cap on…….every night.  She would prefer that I send her lunch to school in a little metal pail and occasionally wears a bonnet and calls me “Ma”.  I don’t ask, and just play along…..and try not to chuckle a little when I catch her taking my eggs out of the refrigerator and putting them in a basket.  I can only assume that in her little imagination, she is collecting the eggs from the hen-house……the stainless steel, electric hen house.

Last few hours being 9, celebrating with the traditional “night before” meal of Chinese food.

At ten years old, Mattie Belle wears a size 6 or 7 in little girls clothes and a size 12 shoe.  She weighs 56 lbs and stands at 50 1/4 inches tall.  Sadly, that is not tall enough to ditch the carseat.  Though small in stature, she is huge in imagination and will.  Tell her she can’t and she will say to you, “Watch Me.” She is dirty and rough and wild, curious and playful, and often has to be reminded to settle down.  She gets sassy and mouthy and has a tendency to put herself right smack in the middle of other people’s issues that really have nothing to do with her.  But all of these are good things, maybe not right now, not at dinner time, or not when there are three kids in the back of an SUV and the mama is trying to drive them all somewhere and arrive on time.  But in the grand scheme of things, these are good qualities if they can be harnessed.  I wouldn’t change her for the world.

This probably won’t be allowed in public much longer

And she is precious.  Tiny, delicate and still with the daintiest little nose I’ve ever seen on a person.  Her hands, her feet, all her little features just a smidgen smaller than everyone else.  She is a feeler, with emotions that rise and fall like the ocean – again, a good thing in the long run, it’s just going to take a few dances for her to find her rhythm.  She is smart, my little reader, soaking it all in and constantly asking questions.  Most of them I don’t have the answer to, which just leads to more reading on her part.  She is fascinated with history, her current favorites being the Depression and anything related to World War II.

Birthday morning breakfast of Champions

She still plays with her dolls.  Dresses them for school and church, often making herself late in the process, and puts them to bed every night.  She loves Taylor Swift and Broadway Musicals  – the music from Annie is currently on our playlist and we will be heading to The Lion King in a few weeks (thank you Nana).  She likes to make crafts and you must walk carefully in her room because there are little beads all over the floor that no amount of vacuuming will ever resolve.  She adores turquoise, but can’t quite let go of pink causing a bit of an identity crisis in her when it comes to picking out her own clothes.  And though she is fiercely against anything that might cause harm to an animal, she looks for any excuse to wear her leopard print flats because they make her feel fancy.

Wishing for her very own library

She is dramatic and over the top, and kissing scenes make her act like a complete fool.  Yet, she likes it when her daddy and I cuddle.  She plans to have 4 children and name them Lucy, Susan, Edmond, and Peter after the children from the Narnia series.  And she has recently become a master at carmelizing onions……which is a pretty important skill to have.  She is starting to try things on her own and I am trying to let her.  Standing back a little bit further, putting my hands in my pockets rather than reaching out to do it for her all the time.

Birthday presents in her new, fancy room

She still holds my hand when we go places.  She still calls me Mommy (which is my name and I do not wish to be called anything else) and she still insists that I tuck her in at night.  She is on the verge of big things – the world is her oyster and she really has no clue that it’s about to open up before her – but I can see the changes coming, if nothing else, in the slimming out of her little face.  The days that feel like hours are about to jump into warp speed.

But tonight, in her new big girl,sophisticated room,  she is sleeping in an early American-style nightgown with a sleeping cap on her little head.

2005 -2015, definitely my favorite decade yet!

While You Were Sleeping

When the alarm goes off in the morning, you have the whole day ahead of you.  It’s still dark out, which is kind of metaphoric for the day ahead as well.  You have a general idea of what’s on the agenda, but as far as the particular details, well that’s always a mystery.  Today was supposed to include several errands, I have a girl with a birthday party this Saturday night and I have been too busy redecorating her room in secret to actually get her party together.  The alarm went off as usual and for the first 13 minutes, so did the rest of our day.

And then it came to a screeching halt.

Crosby usually greets me in the morning, most of the time dancing around ready to go outside because he knows that in order to come back in and eat his breakfast, he has to go outside.  But often, he just greets me with a tail wag, I can usually hear him start it before I actually see him if he’s lying on his bed in the living room.  He hears me coming and it’s just his quiet way of telling me to go ahead and take my time, he’ll wait, but good morning just the same.  At least that’s what I have always heard in the tail wag.

I didn’t notice a tail wag thumb this morning.

And there wasn’t a furry body greeting me by the sink either.

And when Reese and I headed in to get my slippers out of my closest and the pup didn’t hear us at the doorway I knew.

I called his name twice, but I knew.

Reese and I rushed upstairs and trying not to wake Lila I called for Brandon to go downstairs and see…..because I was obviously having a bad dream.

Reese and I sat on the top of the stairs and waited.  I don’t think he had a clue what he was waiting for, but he reached out and squeezed my hand anyway.  I willed my ears to hear the familiar clinking of dog nails on tile, but there was nothing.  And when I finally heard Brandon’s footsteps and saw him come walking up the stairs, shaking his head and putting his arms out to embrace his boy and I……in the quiet of our still dark house, our family heart broke.

Sweet Boy

We have had 12 years with our precious boy.  We had him from his puppy days until his sunset years.  But as much as I could say about what we have been through with him, I think it’s more remarkable what he has been through with us.  He has seen Brandon and I through our first moments of marriage.  He was our third big purchase as a couple – our house, our fence and that yellow lab puppy – all in the same month.

My first boy and me

Shannie and I with our babies

Ready and waiting for the food to drop

Playing in the leaves

His first snow

Fetch in the lake, the stuff of doggie dreams

He was our first experience in “ParentHood”, teaching us responsibility, to put away what we didn’t want destroyed, and that being an adult and a parent of any sort often includes cleaning up a lot of messes that you didn’t make.  I also realized a love for something, someone that I had never known before.  Oh, I have had pets all my life, but that first pet of your own – that’s completely your own, that’s when they go from being pets to people.  We took him everywhere with us, A) because we liked him but also 2) because if we didn’t, he might destroy something.

My four children

Always ready to come back in

On guard even before his girl arrived

My girl and her dog

He was my company when Brandon was in school and I can’t ever begin to tell you how many one-sided conversations he and I shared, especially those first few years.  And from the moment that we met, he knew he was mine.  There was no “getting to know each other” phase.  I was immediately his person……until Mattie came along.

Dancing

When you are old, you sneak onto the couch and get away with it

Crosby played lion for Mattie for many years

Kisses

Well, he became her dog, but I think we all know that I never quite being his person.  She was his “charge” to look after and keep track of, to follow around under the guise of protecting her, but I think we all knew that he just hoped she would drop something.  I think that has been his favorite part about all of our children, their redeeming quality for turning his life upside down….. they are messy.

Always on food alert

Waiting

Even my parents considered him a granddog

sniffing

He handled new children, loud little people who made him less and less of a priority for his people.  He went from spending lots of time inside to most of it outside when my jobs changed.  My husband, family and friends held me when my brother passed away – but it was that quiet, fury friend who seemed to know when I was at my lowest.  The tears cried into his fur…….and though I don’t have a clue what goes on in the head and thoughts of a dog, his eyes sure looked like he understood.

That’s Mattie and Crosby napping on her bed

Enjoying the sun

Home is where there’s a dog in the corner

I have no idea why he would lie in the sandbox, but if it was open, he was in it.

His eyes always understood.  They seemed to dance when we were happy and dart away when he had been naughty.  He would look right at me, completely serious and focused when I talked about how frustrated I was with something, as though he already knew the answer he was just waiting for me to figure it out on my own.

You play the keys, I’ll handle the peddles

We tried to make him a wagon pulling dog but he never took to it

Lounging

While looking through all our pictures this morning, I took a little trip down memory lane, the story of my family and how we have grown in the past 12 years.  There are more of us, that’s for sure – but we have grown in so many other ways, in ways that only time and experiences can stretch you.  And right there in all those photos of birthdays, graduations, buying a new house, moving to a new city, bringing a new one home, the everyday living (which we all know is the real living) – in so many of those pictures, there he is.  Even if the photo isn’t actually of him, he is in it.

Right in the middle

And that is where it hurts so bad today.

Right in the middle.

We are lucky he went this way, in his sleep, on his beloved carpet (we only have one carpeted room in our house and he thought it was his).  He had a perfect day yesterday, the first day in weeks where it was warm and sunny.  He spent most of it outside, roaming and barking at things…..and of course napping in the sun.  We celebrated Mattie’s birthday last night and while we ate dinner, he sat under the table being a welcomed nuisance.  We went through the motions, all of us telling him to go away, this was our dinner and to stop being a beggar.  All the while, we each took turns petting him with our feet or calling his name when something was dropped.  He went to bed a happy boy, not appearing to be in any pain, not a care in the world.  I’m so thankful we didn’t have to watch his little body get weaker, sicker and hurt.  I am so relieved I didn’t have to face chosing what to do next for him.  That trip to the vet I have feared, now I don’t have to make.

His political career never went very far. That’s fine, he didn’t really have a heart for government

He was mine, but Brandon came in as a pretty close second

He was tolerant of most things if treat were involved

My Mother’s Day gift last year, which I am beyond words thankful that I have now

I purchased him, I sheltered him and kept him fed.  He was my responsiblity, but anyone who has shared the life of a dog knows that what they give to us is far greater than an equal trade for the care which we give them.  He ate my first Coach purse, has cost me crazy in medical bills, and has not once cleaned up after himself.  He has pooped on my brand-new carpet and thrown up in my car.  And his hair covers every square inch of my house and wardrobe.  But even with all of that, I owe him.

My niece Kiki would spend entire visits like this with Crosby.

Our last family picture

My oldest and my youngest taking a nap

I have heard it said that dogs are God’s visible angels.  They walk beside us and let us feel that we are not alone.  They comfort us without making a sound in a sort of communication that can only be felt with the heart.  I will miss you so much my precious boy, we all will.  But I am so thankful that you were mine.  For the patience and love that you showed us all.

Lounging

Those listening eyes

Poor little girl isn’t gonna know what to do without you

Saying our goodbyes

“When an eighty-five pound mammal licks your tears away, then tries to sit on your lap, it’s hard to feel sad.”
―Kristan Higgins (author, In Your Dreams)

I wish you were here to do just that Crozzles, I wish you were here.

No You Can’t Do Crafts, You’ll Poke Your Eye Out!

I wish I could say I am referencing a glue gun, a stapler, or even knitting needles.  That would make sense.  Scissors even, or maybe some wore for doing floral arrangements, I could totally see that happening – trying to get down into those flowers and getting a little too close to that green camouflaged wire! Or pipe cleaners, reckless pipe cleaner play could definitely lead to trouble.  That is not how my story goes though.  My craft supply gone rogue was a spool of jute.

Jute

I’m pretty sure you just stopped to say that out loud and if you are in public reading this, everyone heard you just say “jute” out loud and now they are probably A) questioning why you said it and 2) also whispering it to themselves.

Jute

Jute, for those of you not familiar, and don’t feel bad if you aren’t because plenty of very intelligent people have no idea that such a thing exists…..my husband included……is sort of like a rope, though usually not a thick as a rope.  It is made up of sort of the same fibers as maybe burlap, but instead of being woven into a fabric, it is long.  How about I just show a picture of some jute:

In our Adventurers Club for church, the kids have made some lovely illustrations for me of some key moments in history for biblical references.  It’s sort of like a timeline from Creation all the way up to the future when Jesus comes back to again.  These pictures are darling and I have had them sitting on my office floor for months now, trying to figure out how to display them in our room.  We have plenty of wall space, though not an actual bulletin board.  Adhesives don’t seem to adhere to our painted walls and I hated to put any holes in them, especially 14 little tiny holes for all of these drawings.  The idea came to me that I could string them up on a “clothesline”.  That would be perfect, and decorative, too……and super easy.  I already had my roll of jute which would be just the right weight and size for the clothespins I also happened to already have because I like to buy turquoise things at Michael’s.  Why hadn’t I though of this sooner?

Last night was our first Adventurers meeting of the new year and as our meeting was winding down and the kids were starting to leave, I took the opportunity to start stringing up my jute using the drop down ceiling tiles and their metal frame to hold me jute.  The first side worked perfectly, pop the little tile up and poke the jute strand in – easy peasy.  The second side also popped easily, it just rained debris down this time.  I’m not sure if it was those tiny burlappy hairs, ceiling tile, dust or all of the above, but whatever it was powdered softly into my right eye.

It seemed like no big deal at first, almost a funny.  My eye got all watery and I rubbed it profusely trying to get whatever it was out.  I couldn’t really open my eye, so I went to the bathroom to try to manually open my own eye – which is way harder than it sounds! I did a little eye irrigating with cold water like they say to do on all those safety in the workplace videos you have to watch for OSHA.  That just made my mascara run down my face and into my eye…..which didn’t really help.

I was able to get all my little pictures hung up and it really looked sweet, definitely worth my sight for the rest of my life, and the kids and I headed home.  My eye was still driving my nuts at this point and I found that the only way to make it bearable was to put the heel of my right palm right up into my eye socket as I drove.  This probably wasn’t the best way to drive at night, with one hand over your eye – but it’s all I had at the moment and Mama was trying to get her babies home.  As is typical, my kids were a little wound up this time of night and there maybe have been some excessive noise going on.  Noise mixed with blindness does not make for a cheerful driver.  I may have definitely yelled at them really loud while sitting at a stop light.  Nothing mean or really even a yell, more like I very loud “QUIET!”, which was then followed by, “Y’all are not in trouble, Mama’s just driving incapacitated up here right now and I could use all the help I can get and you weren’t hearing me from all your cackling back there. If you could just be quiet and tell me if you see any pedestrians or animals, that would be great.”

We made it home and I got the kids off to bed with only  minimal bursts of “My EYE!!!!!” and a handful of rolling around on the floor episodes.  Once they were in bed, I thought a good shower might do just the thing.  I will save you the suspense…..it did not.  The ice pack didn’t either and the only thing that remotely made it not so bad was the heating pad across my face, which I don’t think is a really good idea.  I’m not sure why for certain, but it just seems like heating pads and the delicate skin of faces wouldn’t be a good match.  I think I slept the whole night with two fingers shoved up into my eye socket.  I had willed it to be better in the morning and I refused to even test it out on the few times that I woke up in the night.

I wouldn’t say it was better this morning, not worse either, just different.  And I quickly learned while making the kids breakfast and lunches with one hand and one eye, that I was going to have to come up with some sort of remedy soon.  The husband took the kids to school and a trip to Walgreens and came back with eye wash, eye drops and a black eye patch.  Much to all our dismay, the eye solutions don’t have any actual healing powers or ingredients in them (or numbing properties which would be awesome!) and the pirate eyepatch didn’t fit my eye.  I really wanted that eye patch to work because what we have improvised with to keep my eyelid from feeling like it has to constantly flutter, isn’t nearly as swashbuckling:

I do think the robot and truck patterns on the band-aids give it a certain element of fun and hip. My first application was stripes which I felt suited my personality much more, but I have to take off my “patch” every time I wash out my eye and those band-aids just don’t re-adhere very well.  So no more stripes.

I have noticed that after the washing and dropping, it is getting easier to keep open, however, I can’t wear any make-up on that eye which makes me even more peculiar-looking than with my makeshift eye patch.  And without  my patch, things are kind of blurry because my botched eye apparently doesn’t see very well at the moment and it’s messing things up.  However, with the patch, I have partial blindness – either way made driving to get the kids from school today a ride on the wild side.  I stuck to the far right lane where there shouldn’t be any surprise merges taking place.  I also wore my sunglasses because I thought the eye patch might make fellow drivers uncomfortable around me………that and it might be illegal to drive with only one functioning eye.  I’m a little iffy on that one due to it being such a long time since I took the drivers test.

Well,  here’s to hoping it’s better tomorrow and at least it was for a good cause.

Happy and Safe Crafting to you all and don’t forget to wear your eye protection.

Reasons to Celebrate

A miracle, or what seemed like one, occurred this past Sunday.  At about 10:00 in the morning, this guy pulled up to our house:

I was probably happier to see this Lowes delivery truck than I would have been to see the Lowes 48 NASCAR in my driveway……well, that might be a stretch

And what you can’t see in the photo is the washer and dryer that is being wheeled into my laundry room.  At this point it matters not to me whether they are front loader vs top loader, white vs stainless, what brand or even new.  I was thrilled that the Lowe’s man said they would work.  SOLD! Functioning laundry appliances, I’ll take it.

The last time my dryer worked correctly was on December 14th.  This was the last load of laundry that I was able to successfully dry without the house filling with this deadly,poisonous-smelling burnt electrical scent.  There was a screeching too, like a pterodactyl or ghouls escaping the gates of hell……of Lila wanting another cheese stick.  That girl can put away the mozzarella cheese sticks like nothing I’ve ever seen!

Coincidently, that was also the date of this girl’s graduation with her Masters, which I feel like I just skimmed over way to nonchalantly.

Proud of our friend

This girl has been working like a beast or a freight train or wonder woman or just a woman on a mission, to conquer this whole degree thing.  She up and decided a bit ago that it was the only option for her, if she wanted to pursue the things that made her life happy, she would need a Master’s Degree.  So she went to the University of Memphis, without a clue as to what all might be involved and jumped in head first never looking back.  It still makes me laugh how after that first visit to the Admissions office to get squared away, she couldn’t get over how much the people in the office liked tigers.  “There is tiger artwork EVERYWHERE in that office! Even really nice, really big tiger paintings and figurines!  How can a whole office of people all like tigers so much?” I remember us having this conversation over pie.  That’s how I remember things, I connect it to the dessert I was eating at the time.  Want me to remember a birthday, your name, or a special secret?  Feed me a pastry as you state your important piece of information.  We all had a huge laugh over this, not because tiger decor is so hilarious, but because the University of Memphis’s mascot is the tiger.  It’s important to at least know the school you will be attending’s mascot before you start paying them huge amount of money.  I’m glad she knew on her first night of classes.

Proud of their Auntie!

Shannie’s cheering section

In Shannie’s defense, she had not been a Memphis citizen for a particularly long amount of time at this point and had far more important things on her plate then the mascot of a local university’s team.  She knows what a razorback is and I think that’s really all that’s important anyway.

Uncle Chris and Aunt Shannie

I will also always remember how hard Shannie worked those first few semesters, especially in classes that weren’t fun, really didn’t have anything to do with what she was aiming for in the long run and she could have easily just barely squeezed by.  But she wanted an A.  She was paying for this education and if she was going to do it, she was going to do it right – she also didn’t know at this point that so much of her school would be just pass or fail – but she worked hard on it anyway.  I honestly don’t know that I could say that I would work that diligently should I go back to school.  And this is why I am so thankful that I have such strong role models in my daughters’ lives as Aunt Shannie.  I am weak where they are strong, and with all of us rolled up together, we make a pretty feisty woman.

Mattie the paparazzi

So it was a big day in our family, December 14th – the day Shannie was decreed degreed and the day my dryer called it quits.

We would be heading out to Arkansas the following Saturday so the death of the dryer wasn’t quite as tragic (at the time) as it could have been.  That, or maybe with all the other holiday crazy going on I just didn’t have time to mourn.  I knew that we had enough clothing to pack a suitcase and once we were with Mums, she had a functioning laundry set up.  We would be going back with clean clothes even if we had a weeks worth of dirty ones waiting for us at home.  Even that first week back home, while the kids were still on vacation, it wasn’t that big of a deal.  I air dry most of their things anyway and it’s not like they absolutely had to wear something particular (that would be the following week when school started again and they would be wearing their uniforms).  I think they rather enjoyed the freedom of wearing whatever was clean.  It was liberating.  And for a bit there, it was kind of an adventure.  Sort of like back a few years ago when I decided that I was going to see how long I could go without actually buying new shampoo and just using the mountain of samples that we had.

It feels kind of like throwing caution to the wind, living on the edge “I’ve got no strings to tie me down”……until I’ve got no underwear and socks.  A note was sent home last week regarding dress code.  It was sent to all the parents, but there was a little ink star next to the section stating that some of the shoes, socks and undershirts that have been worn to school lately do not comply with the dress code stated in our handbook.  I imagined that I wasn’t the only violator of this, but that since there was a star in ink next to the words, I was definitely included in this group.  I knew that the shoes and undershirts were good, they must be referring to the socks.  And when I looked down at my son’s feet and saw orange and white stripes…..my hunch was pretty much confirmed.  At least he was still wearing socks at this point because give it a few more days and there might be some real problems with dress code.

That night, I washed a load of just socks and hung them on hangers all over the house to dry.  I think that may have been the bee in his bonnet move that Brandon needed to finally go and purchase me a new washer and dryer.  That and me telling him that he may as well not come home if he didn’t have a receipt and a delivery date the next time I saw him, because the kids, myself and all our dirty laundry would be moving elsewhere…..elsewhere that had laundry facilities.

I have spent the last few days doing laundry.  Washing (and drying!!!!!) everything that isn’t connected to the wall or floor in some way.  The kids’ sheets were starting to have a weird smell, sort of like Fritos corn chips.  Sheets, comforters, towels, rugs, the beach towels we had moved on to using, even the rugs have been bathed.  I feel like we are slightly better citizens of the world now because of this whole laundering thing.  Mattie ought to get an A on her english test today because her tights have been washed and dried with a mountain rain smelling dryer sheet.  Lila is now sleeping without her pacifier, now doubt thanks to the clean sheets, and Reese has started to read…..all because his socks are clean and dress code appropriate.

Pink Shoes

When Mattie was just two and a half, we decided that it was time for her to add a little something else to her life.  Something that would introduce her to the arts, bring a sense and respect for culture, and just make her a more well-rounded little person.  Because these we felt these were areas that she was weak in……at 2 and a half…….not really.  It was actually more of a “this child seems to have so much energy to burn that she could power our house, let’s see if we can find a fun and safe outlet for all that excessive voltage racing through her”.  And we also though something that was really structured might be a nice plus, something similar to military school, only for toddler girls.

We went with ballet.

And structured it was, Ms Beth at Destiny Dance meant business……but in the softest, floatiest, dreamiest, pink-tighted sort of way.  It was a bi-weekly dose of preciousness….these little bitty bodies in their pastel leotards, their hardly enough hair pulled back in serious baby buns.  And the sound of those little feet in their dance shoes scampering across the floor……….it was hypnotizing.  And the most incredible thing, those little girls listened and did what Ms. Beth told them to do.  My child who just months previously had to have her hearing check because she seemed completely unaware of our voices, specifically when asked to do something that may not have been on her agenda.  Here she was following these precise little instructions…..it was beautiful to watch really.  If you ever get the opportunity to observe a level one, itsy bitsies dance class, I highly recommend it.  I don’t know all the details about Heaven, but I’m pretty sure Level Pink Ballet class will be right up there with the streets of gold.

Mattie only did one year of ballet, mainly because we moved to Memphis and I had her brother.  We were starting a series of new experiences and adding a regularly scheduled class to my already thriving chaos seemed like a bit much.  She eventually moved on to gymnastics, because swinging from things was more her cup of tea at that point, and the delicate days of ballet were long forgotten.

And then Lila came along.

If even for just one season, I would put my little doll in dance class.  She might hate it, we could cross that bridge when we came to it.  Thankfully, my little girls are wired to love dressing up and wearing special shoes……and dancing.  We are wired to love these things, but that doesn’t mean we are particularly talented…..I just want to get that out in the open right now so that there aren’t any expectations.  We are also not exactly designed genetically for the long flowing gracefulness that comes with being a ballet dancer.

I’m not going to say names or anything, but these are the legs of a certain female member of my family.

This was a while ago, but I can easily see my own legs looking like this the older I get.

Ballet is probably not going to be in our lives for a very long time, so it’s important that they enjoy in while they can.

So back to the present, Mattie is now pursuing her sewing and piano interests and Reese is heavily involved with basketball, and over in the corner doing her own little thing is The Bird, dancing to the tunes that only she can hear.

It was time

She was ready and boy so was I.

The Dance Discovery Class is for 3-4 year olds and Lila won’t be 3 for another few weeks, one of those pesky birthday parties I am not but should be working on.  I called the instructor and asked her what she thought about letting the girl come a few weeks early, if maybe she could have a probationary period, or if it was just out of the question.  Thankfully, Lila has older siblings and Ms. Jennie, the lovely dance instructor, seemed to think that by having the experience of older siblings and trying to keep up with them, that she would have enough motivation and drive to keep up with the older kids in the class.  Dance class was a go…..for now.

Lila received the tiniest dance shoes for Christmas, along with her very own pink leotard and tights that come up to her chin  because they don’t make dance tights small enough to fit the pygmy that is Lila Bird.  She has been stoked for days, weeks now about her upcoming dance, dance revolution.  And yesterday was the day.

A little apprehensive, but so excited…on the inside

She walked into the Jewish Community Center like she owned the place.

Twirling

And though she had no clue where the dance studios actually were, she insisted on walking in front of us, her minions.  We were not allowed to actually enter the studio, her rules not Ms. Jennie’s.  We were waved to and told, “I’ll be back” (which is Lila speak for, “you will need to come back for me when I am finished, but only when I am finished.”).  And that was the day that Lila grew up and left the nest never to return again.  She had her tights, she had her pink leather shoes, she now had Ms. Jennie – What else could a girl require in this world?

Sweet little piggies, teeny tiny dance shoes, and baggie tights – let’s go conquer the world

And when a day couldn’t possibly seem to get any better…….it went off and did.

About the same time we pulled into the garage from the amazing dance class and basketball practice, Uncle Shawnessey pulled up to our house.  The name kinda sums it up.  You can’t have a fun name like that and not be a fun uncle.  Shawnessey is one of my children’s adopted uncles, or as I have decided to call them – Common Law Uncles.  If in 7 years of living with someone you can be considered married to them, then by all means, having someone actively involved in your life for 15 years seems like it should count for something.  My feelings are that if you knew me when my last name was still Reese and you are still receiving a Christmas card from me every year, you are pretty much family whether you want to be or not.

Shawnessey meets these requirements completely.

So Uncle Shawn showed up just in time for dinner, which we also shared with Uncle Chris and Aunt Shannie – a little family dinner created completely by friendships that started what feels like a lifetime ago.  Being the sentimental person that I am, I will be honest, there was a moment when my heart felt so cozy – my kiddos climbing and cuddling with these people that have no biological ties to them at all, but who love them fiercely as though they were there own, because they loved B and I first – I can’t think of a better way for them to show their friendship to me.  Not that they even have to demonstrate it daily to me or anything, but I think you know what I mean.

Uncle Shawnessey speaks sports so Reese was thrilled to get to watch a little prebed Sports Center with him.

Swimmin’ together in earlier days

Years can go by, and yet they still know their places

Mattie got a very special, way too late night guitar lesson.

They probably could have used some lights, but still a sweet moment

First lessons, years ago

And Lila just wrapped Uncle around her finger a little tighter than he already was.  That girl isn’t easily amused by people and often comes across as greatly annoyed by those around her, especially those that would like her attention – but when she picks you, it’s for forever.

Working on probably story number 35 at this point

He played dolls, too

When I asked Lila this morning what she wanted to do for her birthday, expecting her to say something like “Go Dance Class” or to just look at me blankly – she instead said, “Eat cake wiff Unckie Schwansee.” So there you Go Shawnessey, there is your affirmation for the day.

I am so thankful that my children have this cast of characters in their lives.  Some I wish they were able to see more often, but I will take what I can get.  Their family is not limited to those who are actually related to them.  I’ve said it before, but it should probably be repeated at least once a week because it is so true, and so beautiful and such a wonderful way to look at the world……my dear friend (who doesn’t know I exist because we have never met and I just enjoy reading her work) Melanie Shankel says it best:

“Sometimes the best families are the ones God builds using unexpected pieces of our hearts.”

Thank you God for giving me a heart that though is has been broken, it has been recreated to love in a way that would have never been possible had it not been damaged in the first place.

And now I have no idea what we are going to do with our Thursday, because how do you top all that was Wednesday?

So I Just Remembered I Have This Blog

The homemade toffee at Mumsey’s house ran out so we have returned home.  We actually came back last Sunday, a week ago, and I had/ have all sorts of stories I had planned to share regarding the rest of our time in Arkansas, and things like actual Christmas – not just the eve of it – but then getting back home and having all 3 of those kids to keep entertained…….the stories may never be shared.  Now,I feel like they are too long gone….we’ve moved on.  I will share some pictures at the end though, so even if you have no idea what went down over the past week, you can at least feel like you saw it…..which is often how I go through my life anyway, seeing things going on around me but having absolutely no explanation as to what’s going on.

We are now in the first few days of January,  Christmas is a thing of the past.  There isn’t a scrap of red and green to be found anywhere around here and other than the bag of peppermint M & M’s still sitting on my counter.  You would hardly know that it had even been here.  That’s how it’s been in the Baughman House on the 6th of January for the past decade now.  Because 10 years ago, we were on baby watch.  I had no idea what having a new-born would be like.  I had no clue what her schedule was going to be or what our “sleep training” schedule would be.  I didn’t even have a birth plan except for her to take the closest available exit….oh, and I vaguely recall praying that my water wouldn’t break while I was at work because I felt like that would be so incredibly embarrassing.  Looking back, that one in particular makes me chuckle because oh Kaylee of the past, that would have been the least of your worries.  It’ highly possible that I wet myself yesterday and it’s such a non-deal, that I’ve completely forgotten about it.  Oh water breaking in public, it’s not like you could help that one in the least!  Now, your child pooping in a shoe box at Target while you’re trying to find a pair of flip-flops in the right size……that one people just cast blame and doubt.  Still not exactly under your control, not being your body and all, but nonetheless…..and that is why we purchase our flip-flops at Old Navy…..there are no shoeboxes there, no temptation.  I would take water breaking at work any day, but again…I have learned a lot in the past decade.

Back to my main point though of being on baby watch and not really having a firm plan, the one thing I was sure about though was that the Christmas decorations had to be brought down.  So help me, I was not going to bring my January born baby home from the hospital and have my tree still in the background of those “First days home” pictures.  And christmas decorations, those sneaky snakes, they seem to take some sort of root if you don’t nip them quickly.  If normal life is allowed to resume and they are still in place, they almost become permanent.  I have seen it happen many times, perfectly good people with plans and hopes and dreams, just become used to the huge fake tree in the corner of their living room and before they know what’s happened, it has planted itself.  It is mid-march and the tree is still there, maybe nothing on it, but then again, maybe so…..just sitting there.  By July, it’s become just a joke and by October, well it just seems pointless to take it down because you’re just going to have to put it up again in 30 days or so anyway.  I have seen this happen, but it’s also possible that my mind was a little off-kilter due to the intensity of my hormones at that time.  Regardless, the Christmas had to go and ever since that winter, January 1st has immediately signified the beginning of birthday season for a certain Baughman (now it is both the younger Baughman females).  The girls’ birthdays are January 21st and the 28th.  There is a week between them and I vowed to Mattie that as long as she still gave a care, I would not make her share a celebration with her baby sister.  When they are 32 and 39, I don’t think they’ll mind one bit sharing a cake and song, but at 10 and 3….it’s not even up for discussion.

So I have two birthday celebrations to plan and execute in the next 3 weeks, not even that much time now.  I am a woman with tons of ideas, but I have the hardest time actually buckling down and settling on something.  I think some might refer to that as procrastination and though I see where they could look crazy similar, my problem is more of a situation where I can’t quite make up my mind and am always thinking I  might come up with something better….which is really more on the side of indecisive…..though really, I think there’s a lot of procrastination thrown in there, too.  My biggest problem though is that I do my really hard-core thinking at night when I’m trying to sleep.  That’s bad for several reasons, but the biggest being that things aren’t open at midnight.  Oh, the internet is, but the internet doesn’t let me actually carry things around in my hands and see how they match together.

We have decided that with this being the big double-digit birthday for Mattie, it’s time to redo her room.  Nothing crazy or anything, just new bedding with some different colors than the sweet, tiny girl Pottery Barn Kids butterfly quilt in the same colors as her nursery.  Getting her an actual mirror over her dresser because she looks at herself now and again and that will probably only increase as she gets older and a rug to tie it all in.  I have big plans to tell her we are doing something with her heater vent and I need her to stay downstairs in the annex for a few days while we tend to that.  And since the girl goes to school all day long, this will provide amble time to move things around and what not.  Then on her actual day of birth, reveal the big girl room to her.  This sounds great and wonderful and relatively easy, especially since I already have her new duvet cover.  But it’s those other things that just haven’t found their way into my house yet.  The coolest rugs you have to order and that is way easier said than done.  So for today, I am thinking what a fun 10th birthday gift this will be………if I can only make myself pick out ( and actually purchase) the room decor.

Typically, on their 3rd birthday the other two kids have also received their bigger kid beds and bedding.  But that was really out of necessity because by 3 years old, the other two had already received their eviction notice from the crib because a new tenant would be taking over.  There isn’t a new tenant looking to lease out Lila’s crib and she has yet to try to break out on her own, so there really isn’t any reason to relocate her.  That leaves me with absolutely no clue as to what to do to make her birthday special for her.  She will be having a little gathering, but as far as a special gift or experience…..I’ve got nothin’.  Thankfully, she hasn’t yet grown to believe that her birthday is about anything in particular and doesn’t have an expectation in the world.  Fact is, if we don’t tell her, she won’t even know it’s her birthday and neither of the others have remembered in specific detail their 3rd, so I shouldn’t really let this worry me.

Merry Christmas Morning Matching Jammies

It’s a Batman boy sized blanket/ snuggie. Merry Christmas, indeed!

Sweet

Mattie making her own Challah bread.

It turned out awesome

Mumsey and Poppy family picture

Family picture by the tree!

Mumsey and Poppy taking our picture.

Crosby is not usually allowed on furniture. But he snuck up here and because it was Christmas, we let him stay….if only just for a second

Lila wear a size 5 in a shoe….these skates were a 9. There was a pair of gloves shoved into the toe of each skate to help her foot from drowning. She wanted to try desperately but I think its safe to say this was not really a success.

This boy feels towards ice skating very similar to how he feels regarding a night at Zoo Lights

Skating with my little girl while she’s in her sundown on little girlhood, holding hands and singing to Taylor Swift

This man was skating, sort of an ice-prancing- with the size sticker still on his jeans

Just trying to stay warm, he sat in the car and wept he was so cold when it was all over with. We have not spoken of this night since.

Riding her first big cat

We forgot we had tickets to Zoo Lights until the very last possible night to use them. It was also the coldest night of the year and though they are smiling here, the kids thought we were punishing them

Tomorrow, we will talk about the tiny, pale pink shoes that came in the mail today.