Party Over Here!

I actually did it. After last year's fiasco at the sensory overloading CEC's, I vowed never to plan another birthday party for anyone that involved more than immediate family. And then Ya's birthday crept up on me and I couldn't help feeling like he deserved to have one or two friends with him to celebrate.

SO... I crafted a "Look Who's Turning One" photo card online, printed out a "join us poolside" invitation to accompany it, and set to furthering the usefulness of the Pony Express by dropping the invites in the snail mail. Yes, I the self proclaimed E-mail Goddess actually used a stamp and paper to invite folk to something! And I couldn't help but be excited to send someone something tangible and filled with happy news so that instead of the "Another bill?!?" and "More Junk." comments at the mailbox, people could say "Wow, pictures. A card. A party? Cool, I'll be there." That's what I'd rather say while at my mailbox, at least...

And the "I'll never throw another party again" mama set out to carry out the poolside theme with decor options. Party City, by the way, does not offer Nemo party plates, cups, favors, anything. He's so five years ago, apparently. And anything else aquatic - even in the midst of summer - was no where to be found. And the luau stuff (which was so not what I wanted) sold out just the week prior and was now out of season. So I settled for a sports theme (that says "boy," right?).

The next issue was party favors. I mean seriously, every grab bag offering warned "Not for children under three, contains small parts." Nothing was going to be easy in pulling off the fabulous first fiesta I had hoped for. I ended up with sports bottles which would be great to take to the pool even if they didn't say "pool party."

We (Chi and I) then went a little crazy making paper dolls dressed in their swim suits, holding towels or with snorkles, for each expected guest. Ya was quite amused by the machine and supervised from the sidelines.

Despite my efforts to bridge the gap between the pool/sports theme (think: bring baby sized basketball and football as pool toys), it was not meant to happen. The trouble with keeping my original theme was just part of a warning that the storm is coming baby because the weather forecast broadcast T-storm warnings for our party day. The skies even sprinkled a bit while I was out running errands as if to suggest that this particular forecast was accurate. Hmm, shocker. And then the clouds closed up, and though overcast, the day was beautiful. Of course, this was after I texted everyone I knew was coming and said "Party at my house" and then set myself and Oma to the tremendous task of making a very active house looked less "lived in."

The set up wasn't half bad. I displayed our "Happy Birthday banner on a light fixture, arranged the cups, plates, and cake on our table clothed round table, and blew up a few birthday balloons. And yes, I'm well aware of the balloon danger posed to toddlers, but they were closely monitored.

Ya demonstrated his "mine" streak by body guarding his toys from his friend initially, but eventually warmed up to the idea of sharing. He chased a few balloons. He popped a balloon and was completely unphased.

He blew a birthday horn, donned the official First Birthday Hat briefly for the obligatory photo, and stared his candle down as if willing it to blow out.

Then he was coaxed into getting down and dirty with his cake (which wasn't easy, seeing as how his parents are a bit weird about messing up clothes with overly grabby baby hands on plates of food).

He even shared his cake with Daddy.

He loved his presents, at least those that made noise. And the party was deemed a success when all participants were sufficiently tired beyond belief having skipped the afternoon nap time.

Whew.

And then we ventured to the pool (albeit without the guests) so that sister could have a little "big kid" fun. Oh, and the paper dolls? They're being used for thank you cards anyway :)

Empty Fortune Cookie

Last night we had Chinese. Chi is quite into the fortune cookies, and loves the idea that you open the wrapper, bite the edge of the cookie, and pull out a paper that tells you (in theory) something about your life. I'll admit that sometimes the little phrase fits... and sometimes it makes no sense. Chi dove into the bags and pulled out the cookies first, doling them out to each person and waiting patiently for each to open, bite and read. My cookie (though amazingly not stale and actually rather yummy) was sans fortune. A bad omen? A message from God to look for better reading material to guide me? Hmmmm.

The empty fortune cookie incident just happened to fall on the eve of a special day. Today, my little man is throwing away his coveted "cute baby" title and taking on toddler hood! That's right, he's ONE today. At 2:20 p.m. Ya was lifted into the air and his Daddy took his very first portrait as Ya wailed "I'm here, and I'm healthy" for the very first time.

Life has changed so much since he was given to this Mommy... and I love it!

It has been so amazing to watch [in awe] how Chi has grown up with her role as big sister. Seeing her embrace this tremendous responsibility is heart warming. I didn't expect her to care so much, to be so involved, to cherish her baby brother as much as I do. And frankly, I think she has doubled my amazement at her intelligence, thoughtfulness, and overall status of an awesome human being.

Ya has grown before my eyes so quickly. He's a person now, full of interests, talents, and preferences. When he eats, he tries everything at least once - and then he swats the offensive things he's found disfavor in. He wants to be right in the middle of the activity even if it means sitting on something for the better proximate view. He loves to be in contact with those he loves (and even pats us on the back when we hold him). He is quick to offer a smile (especially when caught doing something naughty). He plays with cars and balls like a "perfect" little boy is expected, but also has a thing for the play kitchen. He has the most infectious, haughty, clipped laugh I've heard in a long time. He is our explorer. And like big sister, he's a thinker. What he's not, I'm afraid, is much of an artist. He'd rather eat the paper, crayons and pencils than use them to create. [My walls and tables are thankful, his digestive system, not so much]. Perhaps the artsy side will come later? He is definately a comedian, though his humor is somewhat indescribable. (Right now he's a laugh at your own jokes kind of guy - - reminds me of Dill from To Kill A Mockingbird who wanted to be a new kind of clown so he could laugh at people.) And he is social. He loves to meet new people, especially babies, and he empathizes with the moods he detects.

I'm lucky. So blessed that last night's fortune cookie was without the usual printed slip of paper. And I've decided I take it to mean that life is going to reveal itself in God's time. My fortune is so great it cannot be expressed in one little line. And lucky numbers? I've already got them. Two, for two beautiful children and two awesome brothers. Thirty, for three decades of a pretty fabulous life. Five, for the five years Chi and I shared as an inseparable twosome. Twelve and nineteen for the date I became Mommy Rachelle. And eight and twenty eight for the date Mommy was blessed with another little human to cherish and love.

How fitting.

Poppy

Here's another trike shot for you... a picture of my grandfather on his tricycle somewhere in New York in the late 20s. See how Ya favors him?

And this is the outfit and image I want so desperately to duplicate with my little man.

I haven't talked much on here about what my grandfather meant to me... it's hard to put into words just how much impact one man can have on a life. I was his little bits. He kept a set of bears I crafted in nursery school on his wall for more than 20 years. The paper was faded beyond recognition of original construction paper colors, and the hands holding each other were slowly separating as the paper aged. Even after he passed, Mimi (my grandmother) didn't dare remove the poor things without asking me if I minded.

My photos were the ones he kept in front of him on the wall behind his computer desk. And he spent hours reading, or creating and fiddling with computers and radios in that tiny computer room of his. His admiration of my pictures did wonders for the self worth of a girl who was constantly called "pudgy" by other family members and who was never much of a "pretty" girl in school. To him I was beautiful, and that withstands time far better than pretty, which goes away after youth.

He loaned me his SLR camera when I took my first real photography class in college. He listened to my panicked report that the camera was broken (it wasn't, the mirror was locked up and I couldn't see the images anymore - - and he found that funny). It is the same camera I was gifted as my inheritance when he was laid to rest in 2002.

But if I really considered what I inherited from this man I called Poppy, it is so much more. I inherited his snuffly laugh that resembles that of Hanna Barbara's character "Muttly." I'm pretty certain I also inherited his OCD - - it's pretty easy to become absolutely devoted to some new hobby until I master it. I feel his spirit in Chi, who shares his inquisitive nature and constant quest for knowledge. I see glimpses of him whenever I look at Ya. I hope he sees the great grands he never met from his spot in Heaven.
I miss him more than I can adequately express.

He was my escape when things got hard, depressing, or bad in undergrad. A walk, a quick trip on the train, and a call for pick up was all it took to be "home" with Mimi and Poppy. And what a difference it made.
He rescued me from the side of the road when I had an accident on the Turnpike (hydroplaning my car into a tree while fighting traffic on a slick and windy off ramp).

This man traveled cross country in his sports car with me trailing behind in my hoopty - - a walkie talkie keeping tabs when he sped ahead and couldn't for a brief moment see my car. With him, I saw the country - - and he, like my mom, loves to stop and leisurely explore. He settled me into the house so I could be comfortable in graduate school.

He and Mimi were the "Northern Elves" who traveled down the highway every Christmas time bearing gifts and great company for the holiday. And when we traveled north, I remember Mimi running out on Christmas Eve for a real tree which we decorated well into the night. I think it was them who promoted me from my "Le Clic" purple and yellow 110 camera to a cool 35mm.

He never missed a major event. High school graduation in Virginia. College in New Jersey (even though his health was failing and we didn't know there was anything wrong). And I know he would've ventured back out to California for my Master's if he could've.

And this was just the Poppy I knew. Before my memory, he was a scholar at the Tuskegee Institute. A proud fighter pilot in the Tuskegee Airmen. A prisoner of war who drew amazing sketches of the planes he saw overhead as he detailed his days in the German camp. A photographer. A reader (who could research how to do just about anything). An intellectual. An engineer. A gamer. An e-mailer. A HAMM radio enthusiast. An avid gardener (his backyard still boasts his compost mixer and I remember him sitting in a lawn chair with an umbrella and a flashlight watching for the pest that was eating his tomatoes). A motorcyclist. A sports car aficionado.

Because of him, I am.

I ♥ Faces Week 33: nostalgic travels

I ♥ Faces is going back in the day this week.  

The challenge is to present a photo that "brings back a nostalgic feeling for you." Let's just start out by saying that I had trouble remembering what exactly nostalgia was!

Yes, the English teacher is still on vacation.

I guessed (correctly) that it was a fond remembering of the days of old (yesteryear, if you will). And I just knew I had nothing that fit the requirement. I mean, Ya is the spitting image of my grandfather who was raised in early 21st century New York, but I haven't been able to commandeer any knickers, a satchel hat and those too cute brown baby lace-up boots. Yet. We do have a hat that is similar, but Ya is in his anti-hat phase and hasn't worn it since Easter.

So... here's what I ended up with: a shot from a trip to the past where the property owner still had one of those cool tricycles made of metal that looks just like the trike I had as a child (except mine was fire engine red and had a cool wicker basket to hold my doll babies.)

Let's see...

Mommy is thirty. Frankly, it's just another number. It doesn't necessarily mean my carefree days are behind me nor that I am too far up "the hill" to dream (and try to make those dreams part of my daytime reality).

Yadon is a week from turning one year old, which is really a good thing because people give us weird looks when Chi says "He's zero." If you insert years old before the period, it makes perfect sense... but the casual listener who does not know my Chi doesn't get it.

And Chi, I cannot begin to express just how blessed I am to be her Mommy. To see her become this totally amazing, inspiring, intuitive, creative, original, sensitive, empathetic, caring, carefree old soul that I just cannot believe I had a hand in making. She fits her name - Good God - because she's proof that He is the creator of all good and perfect things.

Mommy is reluctantly slowing down with the photos of her kids. I mean I actually left the camera in the car the other evening and I also left it in the house while out and about a few days before. This is mostly because the hard drive cannot handle any more pictures on it, the wallet cannot handle printing every photo deemed a good capture, and because Mommy doesn't even know how to begin to filter through all the images of this past year to select the few she most loves.

Ya doesn't protest anymore when the singular black eye covers his Mama's. Sometimes he even hams it up for the picture. He's used to the attention. Chi won't usually smile (at least not genuinely), but she is still quite expressive on the days when she wants to be in pictures. And as for the rest of the family and friends? Mommy is wary of pulling out her camera (even though she always has it) because she is so very tired of the supposedly out of ear shot comments about her photo OCD. Maybe I'll filter through my best images and actually get my photography "services" out there to the public? At least then I'll have willing models and save my kids from the constant intrusion...

The next book off the shelf is The Notebook. I've not watched the movie, which is pretty impressive as it is on television quite often these days. Hopefully the novel lives up to the movie's reputation (or exceeds it). I'll let you know.

And... summer is winding down, with Mommy heading back to work in the next few weeks. This year is business as usual. No maternity leave. No late start. No watching Chi experience her first day of school firsthand - - and that alone saddens me.

I did not catch up on my scrap booking... in fact, I just pulled out my super stock of papers and stickers to sort and rediscover. I'm prepping pages and hoping I can locate the photos I took that'd be perfect for each of them. Wish me luck, as my photos are organized by date and not by subject. Yikes! But I am not discouraged... I'll keep the three journals and two calendars I have going and will eventually transfer all that information, quotes, and observations into journaling. Eventually. I promise. And perhaps, if they want, I'll even find a copy center that will print the pages of the books when the kids are all grown up and want to have their scrapbooks. I know no one thought I'd send the originals off with the kids, right?

I ♥ Faces: Bubbles

Bubbles... it seems like I had hundreds of these photos on my hard drive a while back, but one can never find it when one is looking for it, right? Anyway, here's a snap shot of Chi playing with the little bubble maker that allowed some newly-wealthy inventor to purchase his own island and feed his dog better than most of us feed our kids.

Time... flies

We've had fifty fabulously fantastic weeks of life with Yadon. Chi is still amazing as a big sister. And as Ya's personality continues to evolve, he is shaping our family. We are anxiously awaiting the first unassisted steps when he deems it safe to stop gingerly holding onto a finger, a wall, or a push toy to walk around. He visits Chi's room, follows her endlessly, and smiles whenever she focuses her attention on him.

He is finally saying Mama, and sometimes, he actually says it to me. Favorite games include copycat, keep away and chase. He loves to climb onto things and has finally figured out that head first is not the preferred way to get down from them. He sings in his own little baby babble - along with songs and sometimes when the mood just strikes. He hates his car seat and would much prefer to ride standing up, facing the rear window and seeing the other cars around us.

Chi? Simply wonderful. I could not have asked for a more incredible child. She continues to amaze me with her inquisitiveness, her command for language, her empathy, her astounding "knowing" of the things we don't discuss in adult comings and goings that she understands. She is resilient, accepting, adapting, acutely sensitive. I could learn a lot about life just by watching how she conducts hers. In so many ways, she is the teacher and I her student.

I love my children. They are, in so many ways, life itself.

Finished

Last night, somewhere in the predawn hours of 1-2 a.m., I finished my time with Clare and Henry (and Alba, too). I had been pretty intrigued by the intricate use of flashback and foreshadow so carefully entwined in this time traveler's tale. I enjoyed the oddity of perspectives as either Clare or Henry recounted what was occurring in each other's life at any given point. I didn't even mind the somewhat random use of crude sexual language and occasional vulgarity that otherwise quite proper (in speech) characters spewed.

But I am disappointed. Disappointed that this wife wasn't as pure as the love story initially suggested. Disappointed that she waited so long for a man who was never really hers. Disappointed in the number of secrets these "soulmates" kept from one another. Disappointed that the novel holds to the concept of predetermination and throws free will and choice out the window. Disappointed that there really wasn't any happy ending in this tale. Disappointed that the wife was replaced by the child in the traveler's journeys. Just plain disappointed.

It's a book that I am happy to have said "I read." No doubt I'll never look at The Odyssey the same again, as countless references were made to the tremendous waiting and longing of Penelope who put her life (and that of her son) on hold while Odysseus carelessly wandered the world. And perhaps that was what Niffenegger intended - a modern take on the epic story.

Somehow this novel was not the escape I needed right now. The infidelity. The loss. The struggle to find peace when all around is sadness, frustration, pain. The casting away of one's creative dreams to satisfy some other person's needs (or wants). And the futility of living as though one had a choice when everything's all happened already.

It may seem that I am writing in code. In a way, I am. No doubt theater goers caught the movie this weekend and have a basic idea of what I am talking about. And certainly, those who have already completed the novel "get" what I've said, too; thought they may not share my feelings. I don't want to be the spoiler, the reason someone else doesn't pick up the novel.

But I am not a fan of the novel. I like the author - - her work would probably draw me again if the subject matter were a little less related to my right now. And so The Time Traveler's Wife is going back up on the shelf and I am going to have to find something a little more removed from reality to satisfy me.

Reading Into Someone Else's Life

Just for a few moments, if that's all it can be, I want to escape into someone else's life. Or perhaps, like Henry in The Time Traveler's Wife, I'll escape into my own life - past or future, and hopefully in a more carefree and happier time.

I am an English teacher, but with the exception of the required reading novels I reread every year (make that read to my students), I've not cracked open a book for my own personal pleasure (read: escape) in a mighty long time. With kids, work and, well, life, there doesn't seem to be enough time for me to just settle down to devour words that someone has carefully selected and weaved into a story.

Then the trailors promoting "The Time Traveler's Wife" movie kept causing my eyes to roam across the titles of carefully arranged, uncreased and untouched collection of my reading library shelves until they rested longingly at the copy of The Time Traveler's Wife I had set between several young adult novels I planned to preview and assign to students. Finally, with the kids either asleep or otherwise self entertained, I cracked open those crisp pages and began to read. And it felt good.

I find myself sneaking a page or two during naps, or whenever Ya is content doing whatever his constantly exploring brain has him doing. I carry the book to the pool. I took it to the doctor's and tried (unsuccessfully) to read it during my biopsy. And like a new appendage, it is next to me even now as I type these few lines and it beckons me to continue reading.

And as I read this chrono-confused novel, I can't help but think. What is going on in the novel is far removed from my own life, but I can relate to the profound, heart wrenching feelings of loss, the feelings (however brief) of contentment, and the feelings that overwhelm when the fleeting thing that is love takes hold.

Wouldn't it be nice to escape a stressful situation with a trip to some other place in time? To bound out of trouble and into a world where things are different? What would I give to see my father holding my toddler self, the two of us dressed in matching terry cloth sweat suits with our names embroidered on the chest? Or to be rescued from the side of the road on the New Jersey Turnpike by my Poppy who insisted that once my car was pulled away from the tree trunk it was backed up on, I should just get back in and follow him home? Or maybe I could travel into the future to confirm that my life has some special someone just waiting to discover I am his soul mate?

No, I wouldn't want to venture into my kids' futures, I want to discover what life has in store for them with fresh eyes... but my life? I'd love to know just what God has in store for me...

I ♥ Faces: Silly Funny Faces

Can't you just hear the snorts and snuffles?
This week I ♥ Faces is celebrating the silly, funny faces in our lives.

Bruised but not broken

Fair warning to you, if you're here thinking you are reading some lighthearted "Mommy" blog, you'd best move on now. This isn't a post about that. In fact it's probably one of those way too candid ramblings better left for diaries.

The woman formerly known as Rachelle wants, even if only for a moment, to be just Rachelle. You see, she has feelings. She has dreams. She has a life outside of motherhood.

But when the first blessing of a baby came, she gave a lot of that up to ensure her baby had the very best life (and her Mommy) could offer. Rachelle waited five long (and quite lonely) years before allowing herself to even consider finding someone for herself. It certainly hadn't worked out with baby's father, who without mentioning it moved on right around the time the doctors were saying "it's a girl... and new Mommy is fighting for her life" - or something like that, I imagine was said, because I was at that point pretty much in and out of consciousness.

Five years without making herself available to love someone again. Then she reestablished contact with a friend she'd known since middle school. They had movie nights over popcorn with baby girl snuggled up against them. They talked into the wee hours of the night after the credits rolled. And then, before they'd even said "Yeah, we're an item," baby girl was getting the sibling she'd prayed to God for. Seeking to avoid a repeat of the diaper dumping, she bluntly inquired if there was anyone else vying for Daddy-to-be's attention and if the baby was going to be a blessing between friends or the beginnings of a family.

Rachelle allowed herself to believe it was the latter, because he said it was so. And she let her baby girl grow close to a man who said he felt like "she was his daughter, too" even before sibling was born. Don't you just love sweet nothings? Nothing was all it was, because he never even said goodbye to the little girl who loved him, called him her Daddy, and loved that he was around all the time.

And Rachelle is now alone. Having discovered that, indeed her instincts about guarded cell phone texts and odd hours at the bachelor pad he was "locked into by a lease and should at least sleep in once in a while since I'm paying for it" were pretty solid evidence of a wanderer, she confronted Daddy of two -- correction: one, and instead of a 'you caught me and I'm terribly sorry,' got a "I'm filing for custody, not visitation." Since when does confronting a person's cheating (physical or emotional) merit a threat against children? Frankly, she should have known there was no compatibility when the man said he was wearing an ascot to his wedding and Rachelle was talking of linen suits, bright flowy dresses, and an outdoor oasis for hers.

And Rachelle is bruised. She finds herself the single mother of two beautiful blessings from God. And just when she thought she'd be something besides Mommy to someone for even just a little while, she's essentially told she's a damn good incubator.

Surprisingly, though she's about 28 hours away from turning 30 as just "Mommy" again, Rachelle is not broken. No marriage prospects, a justifiable darn-near "Diary of a Mad Black Woman" attitude, and a heart twice stomped on. And yet so very thankful.

I am Mommy Rachelle. I'm good at it. And perhaps those dreams I harbor for my life are not on hold, they're just evolving into something much more suited to who Rachelle is supposed to be...

I Think Therefore I Can

That is my baby girl's philosophy. If she dreams up enough courage, she fearlessly attempts just about anything. Nope, she's no dope. In fact, she's calculating and inquisitive about the effects of her actions. But let her figure out a rationalization for something, give it some meritorious function, and she's in action.

Such was the case today as she learned what it takes most folk a week or two of swimming lessons to do (and what neither her Mama or Dad do well. She started out with a hop and a few arm strokes, progressed to leaps and kicks, and in a matter of hours, could stroke her way across half the pool into her Mama's waiting arms.It was nothing short of amazing to watch this girl - who only weeks ago refused to get her face wet - create routines of jumping into the pool, swimming laps to the stairs, the pool wall, or Mama, and then repeating her creations until perfected. And, she admitted, someday she hopes to jump off the diving board like the people she saw on T.V. and win a few metals for her efforts.
Wow. I give today's performance a 10.

My Story In Photos: The Summer Edition

I am blessed. I have two fabulous children and a job that allows me to share my summer completely with them. If I have to work away from home, at least I have this extended time to cherish them during the daylight hours.

This is our summer story, though it won't be complete for another few weeks yet :)

In May, we were counting down the days to summer. 5...4...3...2...1!

But it wasn't officially summer until we could visit the pool.

Chi surprised us all and jumped right in.
Ya was equally excited and determined this bath tub was absolutely amazing.
Occasionally, Oma would tag along and play with the kids. And Chi, now a budding photographer (when she feels like it) would sometimes humor Mommy with a picture.And Chi, once de-safetied, enjoyed a few minutes in the ultra hot tub.
And we were never allowed to leave until someone's footsies looked like this...Aside from the pool, we visited the library, because reading is FUN-damental and Chi knows how to do it!Sometimes, we would bowl.But there were many strike outs instead of strikes (I know, that's baseball jargon). And Mommy discovered that she could bowl holding Ya almost as "well" as she does without him. Sad, isn't it?

The trip to the beach was a bit of a bust... because the only water available was COLD, chlorinated, and shooting from all directions.
We played dress up.
Drove cars.
Discovered new things... like shadows that move when we move.Picked flowers.Visited the park (a lot!).
Sampled a few "don't eat that!"s.
Channeled our inner Sponge Bob and were bubble blowing babies.
And we're not finished yet!

Sandlot Kids

In my eternal search for an inexpensive beach outing, we landed in Long Island, New York. I know you're thinking "the tolls alone, and the gas too, should not be placed in the cheap category," and you are right. But PopPop had an Easy Pass (TM) and Oma chipped in gas money and cousin and aunt hosted our four day stay, so it was a budget-friendly (or community funded) trip.

Long Island is a funny fish shaped island just outside of New York City... and though this island, like all of them, is surrounded by water, the beaches are... well, "swim-free" and bird infested. I had hoped to get a few awesome shots of the kids at play for my weekly I ♥ Faces contest (beach theme), but we got back late and I already know that this week's winning photos are nothing like the ones I captured.

Anyway, Ya had his first play time in sand (and determined it did not taste as good as it looks). Chi got to build a "castle," though with the water being off limits, this was NOT an easy feat.
The "beach" we arrived at has a shoreline and the dark blue water didn't look all that treacherous, but the signs suggested terrible penalties if we dared touch the water. So, Chi and her cousins had a little fun at the water park feature just off the beach front. The favorite for Chi was the water slide, which Mommy couldn't photograph because of a slight but dangerous breeze that misted her camera and that alone was a bit too risky for a photo shoot. So, there are a few shots of her being forced to sit on the toad stool.

And a lot more of her cousins posing....... or blasting the high powered water gun... doesn't he look a bit impish?

Ya did not enjoy the water features at all, so although he looks okay in this shot, he's actually in the beginning of a cry of agony (in which he refused to sit down because he feared getting wetter than he already was, so he just stood where he was placed).

And while we were up north, we visited with family, which is always a pleasure in small doses. I adore hearing the stories my grandparents tell. I love giving my kids opportunities to play with their cousins and get to know their aunts and uncles outside of funerals and family reunions. And it is ever so special to be able to just be yourself and be totally accepted with all the blemishes that God made you with. To feel loved and cherished. To be home while away from home.

... but then there's the extra feature family always provides: Don't you just love advice ruminating from every room you walk into? Well, I don't. My kids, my choices, my mistakes, my problems... but you're welcome to pray that God gives me wisdom in all of it whenever you'd like.