Still Learning the Game of Life

Anyone who has brought a new baby into the mix and had a less than thrilled first child. This one's for you!

2012-02-08T22:19:00.002-05:00

One of the first pics we were able to get of the two sisters...
only by coaxing Aislynn to sit by her daddy and look at a fish.

I still remember bringing home my middle daughter from the hospital. I scooped Isla out of her infant seat and laid her in a "Moses" basket in our living room. She looked so tiny, adorable, sweet, asleep. We anxiously awaited my parents return with our oldest, Aislynn who was 2 years old at the time. Aislynn had not met her new baby sister in the hospital and I was feeling nervous. I still remember everyone saying to me when I was pregnant, "Is Aislynn getting excited to be a big sister?" I always thought that was a stupid question. How does a child know what it means to be a "big sister" when that child has been the only child for 2 years? And how could I answer, "No, I don't think she is excited, or will be excited. In fact I think she will be very unexcited to have a baby join our family. She seems to be somewhat afraid of babies and sobs when babies cry, so no, I don't think she's excited to be a big sister."

In those first few months
this was the best picture I could get.

My parents arrived. I remember them opening the door and Aislynn running in. She looked so big, like she had aged 2 additional years in the last 2 days we were apart, especially compared to my 6 lb. 7 oz. little girl. We hugged, she looked at me, she looked at her daddy, then she looked at the moses basket and her new baby sister. Aislynn started sobbing and crumpled down to the ground and refused to look at her new baby sister. Then Aislynn escaped to her room, a safe, baby free zone. Although this response was about what I expected, it didn't make it any easier. A million things raced through my head, fears, thoughts, concerns. I knew in my heart some day, my little girl would love my even littler girl, but I was not feeling very optimistic at the moment.

Someone starts to come around.

The following next few days were filled with me running to the other room, out of sight from Aislynn when I needed to nurse her little sister, Isla. Aislynn did not want to have anything to do with the baby at all. If anyone tried to get her to interact with the baby she would run to her "baby free" bedroom and peek around the door. Sometimes she would even say, "Baby all gone." Excellent! One morning she crept into my room and peeked carefully into the moses basket next to my side of the bed. Normally Isla would be laying there and so Aislynn would run back to her room as though she had spotted a preditor and needed to escape. On this particular morning, Isla was in my bed. When Aislynn saw the empty basket she perked up shouting, "We did it, we did it!" Which I could only take to mean, "We got rid of the baby finally." She victoriously ran out of the room and back only to notice the tiny baby that had not disappeared, laying swaddled on my bed. She was clearly disappointed.

"Sleep overs"

Days past, weeks past, and slowly Aislynn moved from intolerance, to tolerance, to acknowledgement, to interaction, and it continued to get more positive. Slowly but surely, Aislynn grew to love her little sister. Now Aislynn is 6 and Isla is 4. Last night they both begged me to have a "sleepover" as they do every night now. They both already sleep in the same room, but a "sleepover" means Isla climbs into Aislynn's bed and Aislynn reads them books for 10-15 minutes. After I ended the sleepover, they both gave eachother a tight squeeze.

"You are my best friend Aislynn!" Isla said.

"And you are my best little slumbering buddy Isla. Sisters forever!" Aislynn replied.

It was like a scene out of a family movie. They both laughed. And 6 years flew through my mind and I truly felt grateful to see how far we have come.

13 Days.

2012-02-08T00:29:00.000-05:00

I got on the computer to google "Can I freeze shredded zucchini?" and then my mind wandered and I thought 13 days. I keep thinking, 13 days sober, and then I remind myself I am NOT an alcoholic sobering up, but that this might be what it feels like if I was one. After the first day, then the third day, then the first week, I wanted to share something about this journey I am on but it's hard to get really real. It's hard to be the kind of "real" that invites judgement. Nobody likes to be misunderstood. I feel like I am experiencing a life changing event, a self mandated "wellness revolution." Some people hear that and think, Are you on a diet...you look fine. But sometimes "looking fine" or "OK" doesn't mean you are "fine" or "OK" inside. It might be a physical struggle, an emotional one, a spiritual one you are going through. But all the time people say "I'm fine" or "OK" when nothing is "fine" or "OK" at all.

Its hard to condense a 7 year journey into a meaningful "blog post." I challenged myself a few weeks ago to ask this question about my life: Where do I want to see changes, and where do I want to look back 4 years from now and be amazed by God's grace and provision? The specific areas were my health and spiritual life. I vaguely referenced that I have dealt with stomach problems for nearly 7 years with no real answers from doctors. The struggle has been emotionally, spiritually, and physically draining. Those close to me have an idea of what I have dealt with, but for the most part I feel like no one has known what I really have been dealing with because I did not want anyone to know what I was dealing with. Isn't that how it is sometimes? You want to be understood. You want people to know what you are going through and at the same time you do not want anyone to know what you are going through. I didn't want to have to explain myself, be diagnosed by everyone, open myself up for judgement and misunderstanding. While I wanted someone to ask me, "How are you doing?" I did not want anyone to ask me, "How are you doing?"

In "Cliff's Notes" style, I started having stomach problems 7 years ago unexplanably when I was pregnant for my 6 year old. I started feeling sick after eating, like my food was sitting in my stomach and going nowhere. Then I would feel worse, like the food was actually rotting in my stomach, eventually I would end up throwing up because I would feel that sick. It didn't happen all the time at first, but I definitely didn't feel "normal" anymore. Then I started feeling that way everyday. I had every test imaginable done from my neck down to my intestines. I swallowed a pill with a camera, had stomach biopsies, upper GIs, esophagus biopsies, swallowing studies, scans. I visited an osteopath, allergists, had blood work done. I changed doctors and tried a bigger city, Indy. Then I moved and did it all over again at UIC in Chicago. I tried drug therapies and went to a nutritionist. No real answers, mostly "guesstimations." Everything came back "fine," but I felt far from it. I desperately scoured the internet for answers or someone out there like me. It was like a roller coaster-peaks of hope, followed by feelings of hopelessness, then numbness and acceptance and denial mixed together and I unwillingly accepted that the way I felt was my new "normal."

7 years flew by and passed slowly all at once. A few weeks ago I thought to myself, I have been throwing up almost every day for 7 years. For at least 95% of the past 2555 days I have become physically ill at least once in a day and felt sick every day. When I say "stomach problems" most people think heart burn, or acid reflux and I let people think the best. Everyone hates throwing up. I do to. But over time I accepted the sad realty that I would passionately love food, love to make it for others and myself, but that it would make me feel sick maybe forever. I was either in crusader mode desperately obsessed with finding an answer, or processing my reality emotionless, like a robot. When I couldn't find answers the latter was the only way I felt like I could deal with the situation.

I remember the time I vaguely shared my realty with some friends and someone asked, "Are you sure its not in your head?" I remember the time someone (not a doctor) suggested I had an eating disorder. And I remember the time someone said, "You need to choose to not throw up," like it was cut and dry and that simple. That's why I held on to this struggle so privately, and why most everyone that knows me would be shocked to know that this was going on. I became very good at appearing "well."

But now its been 13 days in a row of eating food and not thrown up. For 13 days I have felt like I am on the start of a journey that is going somewhere. And so I decided to open myself up here for judgement. How could I not share this journey? For the first time in 7 years I feel like there might be an end to this struggle. I came across a book a few weeks ago called The Body Ecology Diet: Recovering your health and rebuilding your immunity by Donna Gates. And for the first time ever, I felt like everything in the book applied to me. I will definitely write more at some point, but the book addresses the issue of an extreme candida infection, an internal yeast overgrowth infection, and all the repercussions this kind of infection can have if left to grow inside the body and if untreated. The book also addressed clearly how to recover and heal from this type of infection, information I had never seen before, and definitely nothing that had ever been addressed in my many doctors appointments.

And so 13 days ago I decided to take a deep breath, trust God, open myself up to possible disappointment, start to really feel the emotional magnitude of this situation, and begin a plan that will hopefully result in healing. Right now I am sugar free, gluten free, and mostly dairy free (the first phase of this plan) in an effort to kill the candida infection so that I might begin to recover my digestive system. Some people might say, "I could never do that...go without sugar, even most fruit, no carbs or dairy!" But I say, "If you threw up every day for 7 years and doing this for even 5 months meant you might stop throwing up, I think you might be able to find a way." For me its all about trusting in God and remembering how He has sustained me until this point, being determined, choosing to be intentional, and staying committed to this goal.

Tomorrow I will wake up and it will be the beginning of day 14. 2 weeks ago that I took action and started to see results, started to feel confirmation that this was the right track. Every day that I eat all my meals and everything stays down feels like a gift. I don't care how "restricted" my diet is right now. I feel joyful. I feel free. I feel hopeful.

2 Corinthians 12: 9-10 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. ¹⁰ For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

Doll Makeover. Because even a doll sometimes needs a makeover.

2012-02-02T14:32:00.001-05:00

Apart of the "PINTEREST TRIED AND APPROVED" series.

I myself could use a hair "makeover." I last had my hair cut and colored in JULY. Yes, July, roughly 2 seasons ago. Thankfully I will be getting my hair makeover this Saturday. Don't sit on the edge of your seats, but maybe I'll take a picture...

On to more ~~or less~~ important matters, like doll makeovers. Now I found this hot mess via pinterest Here:

The claim was that Rapunzel, who looks like she enjoyed getting out of that tower a little too much,

could go from this to this with some fabric softener and water:

I was slightly intrigued as a mother of 3 girls and LOTS of dolls. I don't particularly like children alive or fake to have hair that is NOT completely out of control. I thought that we should give this "pin" a whirl.

Here is our test subject. We'll call her "Emma." Clearly she is a hot mess. She claims she got this wild hair at "ballet practice." Yeah...I don't buy that, but we'll see if we can help her with some fabric softener & water.

I mixed a few TBSP of fabric softener with about 2 cups of water in a spray bottle. You are supposed to acquire a wire bristle brush, I had a plastic one that didn't have little balls on the end-the next best thing. I wasn't looking to invest to heavily in this project. Then I started spraying and brushing.

Quite the arm workout. We started to make progress...

We made it through all the hair, but Emma had a bit of a "fro" situation at the bottom of her hair, so I gave her a slight hair cut. Be careful NOT to do this in front of your children

unless you want them to start cutting all the hair they can find!

Then some slight styling in the front with some braids to hopefully avoid further CRAZY hair.

And here she is. A new girl: Emma.

Hopefully the next few "ballet practices" will be a bit tamer.

Shout out for my g-free and allergy friends. Chocolate Chip Banana Bread

2012-01-28T18:46:00.000-05:00

I do not claim to be a miracle worker, but this "healthier, allergen free" chocolate chip banana bread is pretty darn good. I just (as in 3 days ago) starting following the body ecology program in hopes of healing some of my digestion issues by eliminating sugar, bread, most dairy, and gluten from my diet for a few months to start. Please keep in mind that 4 days ago and for the last few years I have been consuming LOTS of starches and breads, so the claim that the following banana bread tastes like bread is a solid claim coming from me. I believe there are a variety of ways you could tweek this depending on what you are trying to eliminate (dairy/lactose, gluten, soy/nut, etc.) In my case, I was looking to eliminate gluten, soy, nut, and sugar...mostly. And here's what I did:

All my gluten free friends out there are probably familiar with "Pamela's Baking and Pancake Mix." This was my "flour" component.

G-Free Chocolate Chip Banana Bread (optionally nut free, soy free, sugar free)

4 TBSP butter softened (depending on your situation you could substitute a lactose free margarine like "Willow Run" or something like "Best Life Buttery Sticks" I tried it with the lactose free and buttery sticks and it was great!)
2 eggs beaten
3 ripe bananas mashed (I used organic ones because I think they taste better)
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup truvia-I used just under a half (this is a sugar free natural sweetener made from the stevia leaf extract-you could use granulated sugar if you don't care about making it sugar free).
1/2 to 1 tsp sea salt (or regular salt)
1 cup + 3/4 cup Pamela baking and pancake mix *this mix does contain buttermilk
2 tbsp to 1/4 cup chocolate chips (optional) -I used "Enjoy Dairy nut soy free Semi sweet mini chocolate chips" When I did it I just added a couple tbsps. This added a bit of sugar. but not much and the sugar in these chips comes from cane juice.

Instructions:

Beat truvia/sugar and butter with a mixer. Add mashed bananas until blended. Add in vanilla.
Add dry ingredients. Mix just until blended. Do not over mix.
Add mix to 3 mini loaf pans. You can make one large loaf if you want.
Bake in preheated oven at 350 degrees. Check loafs at 35 mins. Then at 45 mins if not done. Loafs will be done when they are slightly golden, the tops have split slightly, and a toothpick comes out clean.
Enjoy!

Winter?

2012-01-23T09:47:00.002-05:00

What does a husband and wife do on a Sunday afternoon while their kids are napping? Make a video of course. Here's what my husband and I did yesterday afternoon...

Something Real.

2012-01-20T14:34:00.000-05:00

Lately I've been thinking a lot about what is "real." Someone said to me the other day, "You are just so creative. I just am amazed, I don't know how you find the time." While it's nice to receive compliments. My first thought was actually, I am such a fake! I don't find time, I steal time from other things. I am really not that amazing. And I thought of a list of reasons for my lack of amazingness.

Yesterday I was reading all the links over at Shell's blog. She has a regular weekly feature where people can "spill" all "the things they can't say." Everyone links up their blogs to this post and shares their pieces. It was amazing how many of the posts had to do with issues of self worth, guilt, perspective and striving to be better moms.

Then today I read a post by my friend Lauren, talking about how people seem to always put their best foot forward, even on facebook, and the feelings it can conjure up when you sometimes compare yourself or situation to what you assume is everyone else's more perfect "reality." I couldn't agree more. And I am 100% guilty of this. I'm not trying to make myself look amazing, but I would much rather share a fun project I am working on, or an awesome recipe I just made, or a pic of my cute girls than the massive laundry pile in my basement or my messy kitchen. I would much rather share about something sweet my daughter did, than that I was short tempered with her 3 times that morning because I stayed up too late the night before working on my "amazing" creations. I think it is only natural that we want to bring our best to the table. And I love looking at other people's pictures and projects and seeing the best of the best people share. But I think it is just as helpful, especially for moms, to hear about everyone's not so perfect days, messes, and feelings of inadequacy.

I had a textversation (a text conversation) with my best friend yesterday. In the midst of the conversation I was talking about being more real and open with people. She responded, "Honesty changes the world. I'm serious. Everyone lies and hides. When someone steps out and tells the truth it changes things."

So here's some truth.

I really needed to do laundry, LOTS of laundry last night, work on cleaning any number of rooms in my house, organize our file cabinet, mail, and bills, etc. But instead, last night I chose to "mod podge" some sweet pink fabric onto a tiny cabinet (thrift shop find) I am making over for my littlest girl's room. There is nothing wrong with having "me" time, but I definitely could have used some "clean" time. I stayed up 1.5 hrs past my New Year's Resolution" invoked bedtime of 11:30 pm working on this project while watching Grey's Anatomy. Not necessarily the best use of time. I was going to share this little project on my blog today because that's what feels comfortable. I still will at some point. Its too cute not too! Being creative makes me happy, making food is therapeutic to me and also makes me happy. I love teaching people how to make things as well as feeding them. This is easy sharing for me.There is nothing wrong with this. But for me, that is my "best foot forward."

Then I remembered why I started writing this blog. I was feeling so burdened and overwhelmed 4 years ago when faced with the possibility my daughter might be autistic while at the same time caring for a very high maintenance fussy newborn. I just felt like I needed to share my real feelings, process them, and also have a written record to look back and see what God would do in my life. It is amazing to me to look back 4 years and see where I was at, where my daughter was at, and to truly see time after time where He answered my prayers. It amazes me to be reminded of the times she made huge strides in her development, was diagnosed as NOT autistic, and made a 180 degree turn in her social interactions. Most people that know my 6 year old little girl today, would not believe she was the same little girl I wrote about when she was 2 and 3 years old. I also look at how God provided for us in numerous ways when my husband was out of work and in him finding a new job that eventually led him and us to another job and place where we are now. So then I thought, what am I going through now that is real, that I need to process, where I want to see changes, and where I want to look back 4 years from now and be amazed by God's grace and provision?

I thought of 2 things specifically: My spiritual life and my health. I suck at doing devotions. I have no trouble finding time to make something crafty or tasty, but I seem to have an impossible time "fitting in" some God time. I have not read my Bible in a long time. I have opened it here and there. But I haven't sat down with full attention on the Word and just read the Bible in a really long time. Its hard to be honest about this, because I like people to "think well of me," and this definitely is not my best foot. But this needs to change so I can be the woman I want my daughter to emulate. The second thing for me is my health. I have been sick for 7 years with undiagnosed stomach problems that affect me every single day. This is a huge burden to me. It has been a long journey filled with tests, doctors visits, and more tests. I have settled for feeling sick most of the time as my new normal. Many people are surprised when they hear this because I have developed a great "poker face" for hiding how I am really feeling physically. I am tired of feeling this way. I know I need to proactively try some new things that are within my power to change to see if I can start to find some relief. I have just started this process, but I know it will be a challenging and emotional journey. Hopefully one that will end in a state of wellness.

That's the REAL me, behind the pink decoupaged cabinet, tasty recipes, diy patterns, and cute little girls. I am not perfect, I am a work in progress. Its not as much fun to talk about my struggles, but hardship is a part of life and a part of who I am, and dealing with it will make me a stronger, more confident woman.

I Peter 5:6-7 says, "Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you."

This is an important truth to be reminded of. Remember that everyone has something he or she is facing that hides behind that "best foot" forward. What is the thing you are facing? Why not ask yourself this question with me:

What am I going through now that is real, that I need to process, where I want to see changes, and where I want to look back and be amazed by God's grace and provision?

The one where I finally paint a canvas and why I chose these words.

2012-01-18T22:09:00.002-05:00

I think everyone needs to paint at least one canvas in her lifetime. You don't have to paint anything fancy. Even if you just paint the whole thing with your favorite colors, call it abstract art, and hang it in your bathroom. I by no means am an "artist." My mother is an art teacher and very talented which I attribute to my creativity, but she would still probably shake her head if she saw me sketch a person. I do better with abstract projects or things that I can make up my self and determine the rules!

This canvas sat blank in my basement for 2 years. Finally I decided to actually attempt to paint something on it. I wanted to paint something for "Little Sister's" room, that was dark pink, said something meaningful, and had tiny flags incorporated somehow. I don't know why I love tiny flags so much, but I do. I decided to take a line out of the Psalm 139 passage. I wanted my littlest girl to have something on her wall that spoke even in just a four word phrase of the amazing truth that the Creator of the whole world also created her, and did so wonderfully. I also wanted it to be a visual for me when I go in to get her up every day, or put her down for a nap. No matter what my mood is, I will be reminded about this simple yet profound truth and I will be grateful.

PAINTING THE CANVAS

Here's what I did in case you want to paint your own striped canvas!

I used some painters tape to measure out some hide stripes first. I painted them with dark pink, let them dry, and peeled the tape. Then I went back over part of a white spot and a pink stripe and created a new row of stripes. These I painted lighter pink. Then with the remaining small white stripes left, and over the rest of the canvas I painted some light pink "glitter luster" paint from Martha Stewart found at Home Depot.

This created a sparkly effect.

Then I cut out tiny triangles uses a small template I made out of cardboard. I used crafters felt. I took a piece of double fold bias tape and hot glued the triangle flags into the bias tape. Then I glued the flag strip to the canvas. For the letters, I could have been more patient and waited to buy some or get some stencils. I didn't want to wait, so I printed off the message on a piece of paper in the fonts I wanted the message to resemble, then I sketched them lightly with a pencil and painted them slowly with a tiny brush. Then I put one more coat of luster paint over them to dull them a bit.

The End.

Here's another freebie for you if you love these words as much as I do!

Read it and smile, or download it and let your creativity loose.

I Praise You Square Art

Free coffee printable. Because coffee deserves to be shared.

2012-01-17T12:17:00.002-05:00

I love coffee. All you coffee drinkers out there, this one's for you! Download it, print it, hang it, share it, enjoy! Or just read it, smile and go drink a cup of coffee.

COFFEE IS ALWAYS A GOOD IDEA 8 x 10 Sized PDF download below:

coffeeisgood8x10

Balsamic Glazed Chicken. A Fuller Favorite

2012-01-16T20:24:00.000-05:00

In our house we LOVE balsamic vinegar. We probably go through more bottles in one season than some people will use in a lifetime. We love it in dressings, marinades, glazes, even desserts. Right now the "balsamic glazed chicken" makes an appearance at least once a week. This is a recipe I have adapted from Jessica Seinfeild's Double Delicious. You can really add whatever sides you want to this tasty skillet chicken. We usually do some sort of potato (baked, potato pancakes), pasta, or salad. You can even put it on top of a salad with a nice vinaigrette or on a sandwich, as Jessica's recipe calls for.

This is one of those recipes that truly is simple and you can make with very few ingredients you can have on hand in the pantry. The sweet and tangy flavor of the chicken is also very kid friendly.

Balsamic Glazed Chicken

Recipe adapted from Jessica Seinfield's "Balsamic Chicken Sandwich" in her cookbook, Double Delicious

Ingredients:

1-2 lbs boneless skinless chicken. Cut into pieces. I usually do about 3 pieces

1/4 to 1/2 tsp pepper

1/4 to 1/2 tsp salt

1/4 to 1/2 tsp garlic powder and onion powder (optional)

A few tablespoons butter or olive oil to saute the chicken in, in the skillet

5 tablespoons brown sugar

1 cup chicken stock/broth

1/2 cup balsamic vinegar

Directions:

1. Put oil or butter in a warm skillet, heat at medium heat for 2 mins then add chicken. Add salt, pepper, and optional garlic and onion powder. Cook chicken on medium heat until cooked through and not pink inside (about 8-10 mins).

2. Add to the skillet the chicken broth, brown sugar, and balsamic vinegar and stir. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low/simmering temp. It will appear very liquidy at first. Let cook in the skillet stirring on occasion until the liquid mixture has reduced down to a syrupy liquid (about 15-20 mins). Turn off heat and let cool slightly and serve with a side or even on top of rice or a salad. Eat any leftovers the next day on a sandwich.

The X-Waitress Chicken tortilla soup

2012-01-13T21:32:00.000-05:00

Don't get too excited, but I am sharing an original recipe. I have had a number of people ask me for the recipe for this soup and I have never actually shared it (they probably think I'm holding out), because I never had it written down, and never made it the same way twice! But the last time I made it, I paid attention and here you have it.

The X-Waitress Chicken tortilla soup
(makes about 8 servings-excellent leftovers!)

(So a little clarification. I was a waitress, I'm sorry, "server," at Chilis for almost 7 years in high school and college. My favorite soup was the chicken enchilada soup and so here is my tribute to that soup!)

You Need:

3 chicken breasts cooked and cut into pieces (you can do the chicken in the skillet or the grill, seasoning it lightly with some of the seasonings you will use in the soup. You can even do the chicken the day before, or make extra chicken when you are doing another meal and cut it up for this soup and set it aside).
2 small onions
2 3/4 c tomato puree (canned) You can buy one large can and use about 2/3 of it.
1/4 c vegetable oil
3 c chicken broth (or 3 c water with 3 chicken bullion cubes)
12 oz velveta cheese (I get the big block)-You can substitute some other cheese if velveta offends you. This is the only recipe I use it in. Another cheese would just change the consistency.
1 cup of corn (frozen, canned, or 1 to 2 ears of fresh corn)
1 Tbsp chili powder
2 Tbsp cumin
2 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp salt
3/4 c mixed cheese shredded (I get a mexican blend)
6 white corn tortilla shells and a few Tbsp of vegetable oil (or use tortilla chips)
Sour cream (optional for topping)

Put that apron on, here we go!

Dice onions (I usually do mine in the food processor because I don't like chunks).
In a large pot, heat oil and saute onions. Add chili powder, garlic, salt and 1 Tbsp cumin.
After a few mins add in the tomato puree. If you want a heavier tomato taste, you can add more. Stir and let simmer a couple mins.
Add the chicken broth. Let simmer a couple mins.
Cut the Velveeta cheese Whisk in the Velveeta cheese. Until it is melted completely. Now whisk in the shredded cheese. Add the rest of the cumin.
Add in the corn and chicken and stir.
Taste it! If you want a thicker soup, add some more cheese. If you want a spicier soup, add a dash of hot sauce or some cayenne powder. If you want a smokier taste, add some more cumin. You are the boss!
For tortilla strips: Fill about a 1/4-1/2 in of oil in a sauce pan. Heat the oil. Cut the tortillas into strips and place in hot oil until hard or slightly browned. Remove to some paper towel. Sprinkle with salt.
I like to put a dab of sour cream on top of the soup and sprinkle the tortilla strips on top. If you really want to get fancy, put some sour cream in a ziplock bag. Snip the tip of one of the corners, and drizzle the sour cream onto the soup (the the domestic entertainer mama).
Pair it will some yummy corn bread or french bread for added comfort.

*Optional: You could add in some black beans in place of chicken for those vegetarians or add some chopped tomatoes, peppers, and chiles. I am just not into chunks and like the cheesiness of the soup which is why I make it the way I do!

Here's how I store my extra "tort strips" as we called them in the Chilis days. In a plastic bag with some paper towel.

(I previously posted this recipe on my mostly abandoned other blog "Modern Domestic Mama."

My Mini Kitchen Make Over. Long overdue.

2012-01-13T14:59:00.000-05:00

The Find

I never thought I'd say,

"Look what I found! Just a little paint and a switch on the hardware."

Cost including original set, paint, and nobs for all pieces: $40

You know those amazing "old school" finds people discover at a garage sales, flee markets, and estate sales? Someone finds some quality piece of something and repurposes it, or finds a new use for it, end result = awesome. If you're like me you think, What? Why doesn't my Goodwill have that stuff? The only garage sales I ever find have particle board furniture from Walmart and Big Lots, and Estate Sales...where?

But then it happened. To me. In the summertime, I was driving down a random street a few blocks from my house cutting through and low and behold, a sign "Estate Sale today 11-4." Out of sheer curiosity I had to make the stop. The story sounds too cliche to even be real. An old lady had died who had lived in the house for a long time. She was into sewing and had traveled a lot when she was younger. Her house clearly reflected this, as it was filled with interesting, old, and very "vintage" type items. You vintage lovers out there would be swooning. Most of the really "cool" stuff had "sold" tags on it-furniture, antiques, dishes, awesomeness items, etc. But there were still some finds to be had.

I ended up going home with 2 pieces of furniture I had a use in mind for, and a 3 piece solid wood child's kitchen set that was tucked away in the corner of the basement. My girls already had a play kitchen, but it was very tiny, plastic, and you could only fit 2 pieces of play food in the fridge if you were luck. I just couldn't pass this up. The fridge was roomy, it had a cute little oven/stovetop that you could actually fit pots and pans inside, set complete with an adorable mini hutch cabinet. It reminded me of the play kitchen my grandpa had built for me when I was a little girl. The nostalgia, mixed with the bargain hunter inside me made the deal.

I can't remember where I had left home to go, but my husband was definitely "surprised" to say the least when I returned home with all my finds. I'll save the hutch makeover for another day, but I'll show you the kitchen make over...

The kitchen was solid wood and painted with some sort of creamish colored semi gloss paint that had faded. I just washed everything out with soapy water, unscrewed the old hardware, and primed it with a white semi gloss paint and primer in one, from Lowes. Then I added a deep raspberry semi gloss to parts of the set, and bought some new hardware to go with the new look. The fridge was so roomy, we actually packed away some bins we had because we could fit all our play food and more inside.

My camera ran out of battery so you'll just have to dream about the oven and refrigerator for now!

I'll take a better pic later.

Sweet new little white nobs with flower and some white handles. 99cents a piece.

For you vintage lovers, the little hutch even had some throw back play food mixes, the kind with a block inside. Pretty cute.

Throat Punch Thursday.

2012-01-12T11:51:00.000-05:00

I had to link up with Truthful Mommy and her "Throat Punch Thursday, if not just for the fact that she has an image of a large kangaroo face checking a person. I can't stop laughing about this picture.

Check out other "throat punches" at the link below.

My contributed throat punch link of the day: 17 Facebook Crimes over at Mom Peeves:

http://mompeeves.blogspot.com/2012/01/mom-peeve-7-facebook-crimes.html

A cookie a day keeps the doctor away...

2012-01-11T01:04:00.001-05:00

These cookies are a triple threat. Don't worry, no one will get hurt, unless you eat all the cookies. Then you might have a problem. These cookies are chewy on the inside with just the right amount of tiny crunch on the edges. Born out of my love for cookies in general, these little babies unite 3 nations: Chocolate chip, Peanut Butter, and Toffee. All the ingredients get along well together, no one stands out too much. So if you are in the mood to try a new tasty treat, here's your girl.

Chewy Toffee Chocolate Chip Peanut butter Triple Cookies Recipe:
(2 dozen)

You will need:
1 stick of room temp butter
1/4 cup peanut butter (1st threat)
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 egg (room temp you can always put it in a warm cup of water in the shell of course!)
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/4 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 cup toffee bits (you can find in baking aisle by chocolate chips) (2nd threat)
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips (triple threat!)

Steps:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Cream together butter, peanut butter, and sugars and mix for a few minutes. Add vanilla until mixed in, then egg until nicely incorporated.
3. Mix together dry ingredients: flour, salt, baking soda. Now slowly add dry ingredients to wet ingredients and mix well. Add the toffee bits and chocolate chips.
4. Drop tablespoon fulls of cookie dough onto your cookie sheet spaced out. If you have trouble with sticking try parchment paper. Bake about 8-11 mins. Cookies will be slightly turning light golden on the outside edges and cracking throughout the tops when they are done. They may seem a bit undone in the middle, but once they set for a couple mins to cool, they will be ready. Transfer cookies to wax paper of mat to cool.
5. Eat!

Melted Crayon Heart Wreath Tutorial

2012-01-10T12:55:00.000-05:00

Today we embarked on a fun and messy project. Full disclosure, you probably don't want to start this one right before dinner or you'll all be eating crayon sprinkles as they seem to get everywhere. And if you think I am Maria Vontrapp and we make these kinds of projects everyday, we don't. This is more like making up for all the projects we don't make every day. Ha. You can definitely include your kids, as I have with this one. But there is no shame in a grown woman grating crayons and making her own wreath. Happy melting!

You will need:

Reject crayons. We used broke old ones.
Wax paper
An iron
Cheese grater OR you can use a plastic bag and meat mallot or hammer to smash the crayons
Glue or tape
Piece of cardboard/recycling to make a circular shape on for wreath
A ribbon or something similar to hang it!

Let's Go:

1. Locate reject crayons. Peel the papers off.

2. Grate crayons or hammer in a bag.

3. Lay an OLD towel you don't care about or a piece of cardboard down and lay a piece of wax paper on top.

4. Sprinkle crayons over wax paper.

5. Now layer a second sheet of wax paper on top and lay a thin OLD towel or something similar on top and iron until crayon flakes have melted.

6. Let cool/

7. Make a small heart template out of cardstock/cardboard/recycling. And make a circle template for the wreath out of similar material. I traced one of my plates. Then cut a circle inside the circle, so it looks like a donut.

8. Cut strips of the wax paper and layer them and cut out hearts.

9. Use tape or glue and place the hearts around your circular/donut shaped wreath template until covered.

10. Tie a ribbon and hang or gift away!

Notes: I sliced the crayons which made peeling them much easier for Isla. We started with the grater (I let her help me) then ended up going with the mallet as the crayon sprinkles were getting everywhere and sticking to everything. You also don't need as many sprinkles as you might thing. I think we actually used too many which made it leak out the sides onto my towel and table. Yeah! A little goes a long way.

Create a template and cut out hearts.

Cover your wreath template with the hearts using glue or tape.

Tie a little ribbon.

Now admire your work.

DIY GRAB BUTTON Tutorial

2012-01-08T23:04:00.000-05:00

Want to make one of these to promote YOUR blog?

When I wanted to make a "Grab Button Box" I found it very difficult to find complete instructions on how to do it. I found bits and pieces here and there, but nothing completely coherent. I am hoping this tutorial will easy to follow with your own "Grab button" as an end result!

PLEASE do not be alarmed by the length of these instructions. The length of these instructions is not a reflection of the difficulty of the tutorial. I have tried to be extremely thorough so there is no confusion.

First off, what IS a "Grab Button Box?" I am talking about that button (usually square) you see on a blog with a tiny box below it that has a bunch of code (as you can see above). If you cut and paste the code into your blog, that button and a link to that blog you cut and pasted it from will be apart of YOUR blog. In otherwords, the button allows YOU an opportunity to promote your blog with an image and direct link that can be hosted on your friends blogs, or by people that just like your blog.

THIS tutorial teaches you how to make YOUR OWN button with the code. You can then feature it on your own blog for others to cut and paste and get the word out about your blog or website.

OUTLINE:
1. Edit and create a square 125 X 125 image to represent your blog.
2. Upload the image to Photobucket to host and acquire a direct link.
3. Replace your direct link, blog name and address into the code I have provided.
4. Open an HTML page gadgets in blogger and copy your code.

Let's get to it!

1. Decide what image you will use for your button. Keep in mind this button will be small, so tiny details won't show up. Using your own photo program choose an image, and add a title or your blogs name to your image if you wish and resize the image to 125x125 in size. Skip to step 2 if you have completed this task. IF you have never done this before follow the steps for PICNIK a free editing program online listed below.

___________________________________________________

PICNIK Instructions:

1. Go to PICNIK.

2. Click "upload a photo."

3. Choose the file from your computer that has your image and upload it. It will now open in picnik. Click CROP. Click "no constraints" and highlight/click "square." Now use the editing box that appears to pick what square portion of your photo will become the button. Now click "apply." Your photo will become a cropped square.

4. If you wish to add text or your blog name, use the "TEXT" tab at the top and click on it. You will see a rectangular box that says "type here and click add to place text" Pretty self explanatory. You can play with the fonts and size and drag the text box you create around.

5. Now go back to the tab at the upper left "BASIC EDITS" Click "RESIZE" and put the dimensions 125 X 125 in the boxes. Click "APPLY"

6. Your image should become very tiny. Now click "SAVE AND SHARE" at the top. Click "SAVE PHOTO" and save to your computer (remember where you save it).

__________________________________________________

2. Go to PHOTOBUCKET. Either sign in or create an account. You will need to use this site or one like it to house your image online to get a direct link to enter into the code coming up. Once open, click "UPLOAD" and then "SELECT PHOTOS AND VIDEOS". Upload the photo you saved on your computer from PICNIK. When the photo loads, click "view album"
3. Click on the box that says "DIRECT LINK" (as shown below) You will cut and paste this code into a blank document like in the next image.

Then cut and paste the color-coded code found below in the GRAB BUTTON TUTORIAL into the document as well, a few lines below your DIRECT LINK code.

4. Continue with the instructions below. I had to place them in a SCRIBD doc so that the code wouldn't get jumbled up in this post! You are almost done!

Grab Button Tutorial

How to make the BEST rolls you've ever made: Cinnamon Rolls with Cream Cheese Frosting

2012-01-07T22:57:00.000-05:00

Cinnamon Rolls with Cream Cheese Frosting

There's nothing like a bad cinnamon roll. Actually, there is nothing like a good cinnamon roll topped with bad frosting. Just so we are clear here, let's get all the crimes against a cinnamon roll out on the table:

A roll that tastes like you are eating a pile of cinnamon with some roll on top.
A bad glaze.
Dry rolls.
Overcooked edges and undercooked centers.
A monstrous pile of cinnamon in the center. Bad.
Burnt bottoms!

Now that we have the "What not to do" list covered, lets move on to the cinnamon roll that will change your life, or should I say the cinnamon roll FROSTING that will change your life. I consider myself somewhat of a "connoisseur" of breakfast foods. I love a good brunch and truly have an appreciation for that amazing breakfast buffet you encounter at least once in your life. And lets give a round of applause for eggs. So much potential, versatility, a great contribution.

My point is that when I tell you, "Make this frosting," I would never steer you wrong. I believe very strongly in the code of food ethics:

THE CINNAMON ROLL

You Need:

1 Pillsbury Hot Roll Mix (I use this or make a recipe for dough in my bread machine. If you have some secret family roll recipe to use, more power to you! But I do love the speed of the Pillsbury Rolls Mix, it only requires 30 mins to rise. You will follow the directions on the box and will need an egg and some water.
OR if you have a bread machine you can use the recipe at the bottom of this post. Keep in mind for the bread machine, the ingredients go into the machine in the exact order listed.
1 1/2 c brown sugar
2-3 TBSP cinnamon
2 sticks of butter softened-not melted (not margarine, not pretend butter. REAL BUTTER)
4 oz cream cheese softened (Philly all the way)
1 3/4c to 2 c of powdered sugar (Start with 1 3/4 c and if you want it sweeter, add some more sugar!)
1 1/2 TBSP Vanilla

Instructions:

To make frosting, Mix on high speed cream cheese and ONE STICK of butter for a good 10 mins. Yes 10. If you have a hand mixer, plan your day while you are mixing, if you have a standing mixer like a Kitchen Aid, you are probably smiling. The mixture should be very light and fluffy, and lighter in color. (But if you aren't in the mood to stand there for 10 mins, we can compromise at 5mins and call it a day and still have a decent frosting! It will still be fluffy, just not ultra, ultra fluffy.)
Add powdered sugar and mix until well blended.
Slowly add the vanilla and blend for a minute.
Done! Put directly on rolls or keep refrigerated.
For rolls: Follow instructions on the roll mix. Try to roll the dough into a rectangle. Once you have rolled out your dough, spread the other one stick of butter on top. Mix brown sugar and cinnamon. Sprinkle mixture on top of dough. You can always add more cinnamon, but you can't take it away! You can also add more brown sugar for extrastickiness!
Starting at the end closest to you, roll the dough away from you into a roll. Pinch the outer edge to itself to seal the roll.
Now cut the rolls, about an inch thick. Lay them on a greased pan with a little space in between. Let rise according to the box instructions and bake.
Top warm rolls with yummy frosting and eat!

Helpful tip: Sometimes I will bake the rolls the night before I want to have them, and then just warm them in the oven and top with frosting the next day!

This is another one of those recipes that will increase your likability. When you make fresh baked cinnamon rolls with "better than cinnabon frosting" for whatever occasion people will "Oooo" and "Awww" And just because the Pillsbury Dough Boy helped with the roll making does not take away from the domesticity. Any dough that has to rise is considered "made from scratch" in my book! So-Make. Eat. Serve. Enjoy. Become known for your cinnamon rolls :-)

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Cinnamon roll Dough for bread machine:

Large batch:
Dough:
2/3 cup lowfat milk, room temperature
3 large eggs, room temperature
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature, cut into small cubes
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1.5 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
4 cups bread flour
2/3 cup cornstarch
2-1/4 teaspoons yeast, active dry, instant or bread machine (this is how much is in one of the yeast packets from the store)

Medium batch:
Dough:
½ cup lowfat milk, room temperature
2 large eggs, room temperature
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature, cut into small cubes
1/3 cup granulated sugar
¾ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
3 cups bread flour
1/3 cup cornstarch
1-3/4 teaspoons yeast, active dry, instant or bread machine

Small batch:
1/3 cup lowfat milk, room temperature
1 large eggs, room temperature
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature, cut into small cubes
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 cups bread flour
1/3 cup cornstarch
1-1/8 teaspoons yeast, active dry, instant or bread machine

Brown Sugar Maple Granola (Includes Gluten Free Variation)

2012-01-07T20:33:00.000-05:00

After trying a variety of granola recipes and making additions and omissions, we came up with the "Fuller Family Favorite Granola Recipe" This recipe makes easy and awesome granola, not that I'm biased. You can easily add additional ingredients like dried fruit, and nuts, as well as eliminate some of the items you don't like. I have even made a Gluten Free version of this for a friend using Gluten free oats.

2 summers ago, I made 50 lbs of granola for a friend's sister's wedding. I love a challenge. Ha! I was mixing it with huge spoons in huge bins. I felt like I was making granola for giants or something.

Fuller Favorite Granola

3 1/2 c oats (works better with regular oats not quick oats)
1/4 c wheat germ (optional)
1/2 c brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 c almonds (sliced, slivered,crushed, whatever)
*You can add other nuts orraisins/dried fruit instead if you want in 1/2 c and 1 cup portions.

Mix the above ingredientstogether than add the ingredients below:
1/4 c olive oil
1/4 c maple syrup (you cansubstitute honey but you might want to reduce brown sugar so its not too sweatunless that's how you like it!)
2-4 tbsp water (more or lessif you want it more spread out or more clumpy)

Add wet ingredients to dryingredients.

Bake on a sheet pan at 250degrees for 1 hour to 1.5 hours. Mix granola once or twice while baking.

*To make a GLUTEN FREE version, use no wheat germ and gluten free oats that can be found at many organic/specialty store, whole foods, and Trader Joes. Also double check the other ingredients, but if you are using quality ingredients the rest should all be naturally gluten free. Note: Some gluten intolerant people still have difficulty with oats even gluten free ones. If you are making this version for someone who eats gluten free or has celiac disease check with them.

Let cool and eat! Awesome onyogurt with fruit. Keep in a container or bag so it stays crunchy.

Get some cheap poly bags from the dollar store or craft store and give this granola as gifts!

DIY Frilly Satin Flower-No sewing of any kind required.

2012-01-07T14:38:00.000-05:00

I should be mopping my floors while the girls are taking a break, but sharing a tutorial seems like more fun. I love to make satin flowers of all kinds. Today I am sharing with you an easy, no sew satin flower that can be made into a hair clip, or embellishment of any kind.

Materials:

Glue gun and glue sticks
Sharp scissors-ideally sewing scissors
A lighter, or long candle lighter (as pictured). If you have neither, a candle can be used.
Satin material. In the US, 100% poly satin is available at Hobby Lobby for around $2.99 a yard. Or at fabirc store, try costume satin or "SILKY SOLID" as it is titled which I am using in this tutorial from Joann Fabrics. It is roughly $4.99 a yard and I used a coupon (You can always find Joanns coupons in an online search). You barely need a 1/4 of a yard.
A clip or pin of some sort, or a headband, etc.. Also available at any craft or fabric store
Craft felt (tiny piece) for backing. Use a scrap if you have it or one of those little sheets of craft felt can be found at craft/fabric stores or even walmart for about 25-50 cents.
A jewel, button, bead, etc. Whatever you want to put in the center of your flower.

Template: You only need one size. Choose your size and cut out 9 of that size. To print these out you can highlight them and print selection, or cut and paste them into a doc to print. However you want!

SMALL

MEDIUM

LARGE

LET'S GO:

1. Use the template I have provided. Cut out the template on a piece of thin cardboard/carstock. Cut out 9 squares of satin-they don't have to be perfect-just big enough to trace the pattern onto. Use a fabric pen or regular pen/pencil to trace around the template onto the satin. Satin is thin so you should be able to cut through at least half of the squares at once. Satin is actually easiest to cut the denser the pile (less shifty).

2. Learning to singe: Its a good idea to practice this a few times on scraps first. Hold the satin shape in one hand and the long necked lighter in the other. Click the lighter on and run it along the edge of your satin shape quickly. You want to run it close enough that it melts the edge slightly without distorting the shape too much or melting a big divot in the shape. Practice steadily running the flame along the edge of one piece. Once you feel comfortable with this you can being singing your real shapes!

Troubleshoot: If your edge is turning black underneath soot like, try holding the lighter more level with the shape, not below it. If your shape is becoming really distorted or too melted, you are holding the flame too close and moving too slow.

3. Begin singing around the edges of all the flower shapes one at a time. You can always add more cut outs to create a fuller flower or less cut outs for a simpler one. Once you have singed all your template pieces, this is what you should have (9 singed flower pieces):

4. Take one piece and lay flat. This will be the base. Now take the second circle, fold it in half and then in half again. Pinch it to keep its shape. Put a dab of glue on the tip of the triangular shaped piece and glue to the center. Do this with 3 additional pieces, like you are piecing together a pie with the tip pointing into and touching the center.

***As you attach each triangular piece makes sure they all are folded the same way and open in the same direction.

5. Now add a 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th folded up piece as a second layer on top of the first 4 circles you attached. Now cut a wavy circle shape free hand out of a piece of satin that is smaller than your template shape. Singe it, then put a dab of glue in the center of the flower and attach this circle.

6. Take your gem or embellishment and glue to the center. Now take a small oval or circle of craft felt and glue to the back. At this point you can also glue leaves to the back out of felt if you wish. Now glue the back of the flower to your clip, headband, pin, etc.

Here's some samples of clips you can use, that can be found at craft/fabric stores or online.

7. Put in hair!

Finished Product

Here is a simple easy variation:

Take only 5 of the template shapes, cut out, singe, and layer directly on one another. Attach your gem, felt backing and optional leaves, and clip and you are good to go!

A few resolutions.

2012-01-02T23:39:00.000-05:00

I'm not really one for New Years Resolutions but I figured what the hey, I'm all for shaking things up this year and my first resolution is to make some New Years resolutions...a day late of course. I have to keep it real. So without a long drawn out reintroduction, or my stating the obvious-its been a long time-or explaining what has been going on this last year to fill my time, here's some good ol' fashioned resolutions.

---Here's what made my 2012 List---

1. Make some New Years Resolutions.
2. Try to keep at least half of the resolutions.
3. Read 2 books. Don't gasp too loudly all you readers who have already completed 2 books on this second day of the new year. I read a lot online, articles, pieces of books, but not entire books from start to finish and definitely not fiction. I don't have anything against books. My reader sister said, "You should read The Hunger Games!" My thoughts, uh, that seems a bit intense for my non-reading self to take on and isn't that going to be a movie? I have some great intentions to read books that look good, but I can usually find 30 things I would rather create.
4. Write more.
5. Learn how to play the ukulele. I bought Aislynn a pink ukulele for Christmas. She loves all things musical and she loves it. However, so far all we know how to do is tune it. Ha! I was going to say "learn how to play the guitar." Yes, I am one of those people who owns a guitar she can't play. Some how I have to think a ukulele is easier to learn to play than a guitar? Hawaiians are welcome to weigh in on this one.
6. Document all the tutorials and patterns I have floating around in my creative ADD head and post them!
7. Try ~~and become a morning person~~ and be slightly happier in the morning.
8. Go to bed earlier. I think I have finally reached the conclusion that my 31 year old body can't quite handle the late nights my 21 year old body could! I'll shoot for getting to bed by 11:30pm.
9. Work out at least once a month. I don't want to shoot too high.
10. Organize something.
11. Write thank you notes and really get my girls involved. I am really bad at this one. Shame on me.
12. Remember my family and friends birthday's before they actually arrive or are past...
13. Write a food blog with my husband. Yes!
14. Do more laundry more often so I will have less sweat shop laundry days. You know the days where you do load, after load, after load, and small mountainous regions of clean laundry in your living room start to form. Or maybe that's just me.

In the words of my sister "that's kind of a lot of resolutions." And in the words of me to my sister, "Sorry I'm ambitious." Ha! I figure if you make enough resolutions, and set your bar just low enough, you are bound to complete at least a few of them.

Here's to a new and exciting year, still learning life.

I'm back! And sharing a fun and simple tutorial. T-shirt flowers

2011-02-22T10:55:00.000-05:00

Wow! Its been TOO long. A lot has happened since my last post in August-mainly lots of snow, lots of designing, and one cute baby being born now 3 months old.

I also opened my Design store on Etsy. It will be the home for flower appliqués, hair and bridal accessories, PDF tutorials, baby items, and possibly some carriers. I am also working on a PDF of the hood to headrest tutorial that you love so much! In honor of all these exciting things I have included my tutorial for the cheap, fun, and easy T-shirt flower below. It is currently in my Etsy store for $3 so you get a sweet bargain here for free :) If you like it, check out some of the other patterns I am working on in my store.

I am patterned challenged which is why I started writing my own patterns packed with photos. I have so many pattern projects in the works, so get ready!

Visit here for more tutorials! And feel free to email me Brooke at elizabethbrookedesigns@gmail.com with any questions.

Repurposed t-shirt flower tutorial PDF

Re Purposed T-shirt Flower Tutorial PDF

So...again...still no blogging, but at least a snapshot update.

2010-08-24T01:44:00.001-04:00

Wow. Time is flying.

Today this little girl started preschool 2 days a week.

She could lead a class on scholastic enthusiasm.

And in 13 weeks little girl #3 will be here and there will be lots of coordinating outfits.

So.

2010-07-07T01:02:00.000-04:00

I am in desperate need of some blogging but it is 1 am and far past my bedtime.

Here's at least one little piece of news well worth a quick blog post which I am sure will be apart of much blogging to come...

THIS LITTLE GIRL...

WILL BE JOINING THESE LITTLE GIRLS COMING NOVEMBER TO A HOSPITAL POSSIBLY NEAR YOU!

(photo by the awesome Julie!)

Make way for...DUCKLINGS!

2010-05-15T00:46:00.000-04:00

There are times as a parent, where the kid inside of you floats to the surface. My "kid" moment started Thursday when a friend said we should come see her ducks. Immediately I thought, sure, kids love feeding the ducks outside...What she actually meant was, "You should come see and play with out 2 live pet ducklings living in our house!" I started feeling "kid-ish."

It was love at first site for my girls when they laid eyes on 2 baby ducklings. I knew my oldest would be an instant fan. From as early as I can remember, "animal lover" would easily describe Aislynn. As a toddler, Aislynn took great offense to a baby crying while being side tackled by a dog was perfectly acceptable. My youngest falls at the other end of the spectrum. "Suspicious of animals" would easily be in her character description. She would much rather try to sooth a crying baby than have even the tiniest puppy run at her let alone attempt to side tackle her.

The wheels started turning after I found out that Rural King sold ducklings in sets for $3.99. Who can resist an adorable, cheap, and TEMPORARY pet with such an easy exit strategy? Seriously, they swim away. Immediately, a childhood of temporary pets flashed through my mind: Our third grade zoo: Mice, newts, and a tarantula...hatching chicks and taking one home..,my next door neighbor ending up with kittens in his garage...guinea pig babies...And so I thought, we'll just go to Rural King on Friday to check out the situation.

We went to Rural King on Friday. We checked out the situation so thoroughly, that we left with 2 ducklings, some feed, and a heat lamp. My tiny entourage, in addition to myself was excited. We decided to surprise Daddy, and thought all our excitement would definitely rub off on him. I have been known as an "animal surpriser" at times. Surprise Mom! I bought my sister a guinea pig, Surprise Mom! I bought 2 guinea pigs! Can you take care of them while I student teach?....Surprise roommate, I brought a kitten home for us to find a home...Usually these surprises did not quite elicit the enthusiasm I was hoping for at the time. Perhaps I have a need to surprise everyone after my childhood longing to be surprised with a puppy under the Christmas tree in a box with a red bow on it went unfilled. A void which I am more than happy to KEEP void now (no puppies right now please for all you who were planning on mailing me one).

It may be hard to believe that I do not want to own any pets on a long term basis at this point. The thought of caring for a dog or even cleaning out a fish tank sounds exhausting and unappealing. And cats, we just won't go there. But somehow, a temporary duck pet sounds intriguing. Perhaps this intrigue will wear off in a week! I'll get back to you on that...

After being married to me for almost 6 years, my ability to shock and surprise Andy with my adventurous side has dulled a bit. In other words, I think it would take quite a lot for Andy to be surprised by me. I am so full of surprises, I think he expects it. Andy came home for a quick lunch break to the greeting, "Daddy! We have a surprise for you!" The girls unveiled our newest house guests and Andy of course remained a good sport. As long as the ducklings do not escape in the house, poop on anything, and eventually-sooner rather than later-swim away, I think he will be fine.

My master plan: Care for our new friends indoors for a few weeks. Then, as the weather warms, and they grow into tweens, let them outside in the backyard, then eventually take them to a duck pond and let them go. The girls already know that when our babies grow bigger, we'll take them to the pond to, "swim away and find new friends," as they like to put it.

Needless to say, on this first day home, our newest families members had quite an eventful day...probably more eventful than their Rural King days.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A FULLER FAMILY DUCKLING...

Being the cruel mother that I am, I told the girls they could not hold the ducklings until their toys were picked up. They opted to sit and stare longingly at the ducks for awhile before beginning, what appeared to be a painful process, of picking up toys.

Meet "Sam," (Aislynn's) and "Ming Ming," (Isla's). Aislynn wanted to name them "Pam" and "Sam," but being a gracious older sister, allowed Isla to name her own duckling.

Our ducklings became well acquainted with being carried around in a bucket, swimming in our water table, wheel barrow rides, and more...

Aislynn read them a book, sang them a song, and put them to bed.

Rest up little duckies! You'll need it for tomorrow.

Perhaps our new friends will fly away sooner rather than later after a week with us!

Changes: #1 Location.

2010-05-03T00:31:00.000-04:00

Over 3 months ago I lived in Bloomington Indiana as a renter. I now live 4 hours north as a homeowner. Definitely a BIG change for our family. I miss Bloomington and all the amazing people living there. Even though we lived there for one short year, I'd like to think we made some lifelong friends and forever memories. In my mind, Bloomington feels like a summer home from the movies, where the people in the movie all live in summer cottages. They live a different life with new friends all up at the lake and they all have a blast, but at the end of the summer they all go back to other lives. It was a short visit in Bloomington in the whole scheme of the timeline of life. I may not own a summer home, but don't worry B-town, I'll be back for a visit.

I feel like ever place we live as a family, turns out to be the perfect place for us at that exact stage we are at in life. It doesn't mean everything is ideal about the place or the circumstances, but it meets our needs as a family. In each of these places, I always meet a few forever friends, and a whole bunch of friends for that stage in life. These are people that influence my life for the better, and make me happy. Amazing people, you know who you are. Thanks for rocking my life.

Right now we are on to the next place, actually an old place at a new phase in life. I never dreamed I'd be back in my old college stomping grounds. But here we are. Its strange to have so many memories as a 19, 20, 21 year old, and now be making memories here as a wife and mother. Its familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

In processing living in my familiar and unfamiliar surroundings, I find myself thankful. "The college years" stir up so many memories good and bad. Its great to remember all the hilarious things from college and even to reconnect with old friends from back then now as couples and families and moms. I am loving this! I am thankful for the college years that introduced me to my future husband. We never dated in college, but that's where it all began-the friendship, meeting, the groundwork. But not all the memories are good ones. Being in a familiar place makes you remember all kinds of things, and some things aren't so great. I have a pile of those kind of memories as well: Broken relationships, bad choices, hard times, growing points.

But, I am thankful.

I am so thankful to see the bigger picture. Now 9 years later I see that the broken relationships ended, and opened up space for new exciting life long ones. I see that bad choices don't always control your life and can teach you important lessons about who you are as a person. I see that hard times and growing points are a part of life. I understand what healing, forgiveness, and living a life of integrity mean. I see that when it felt like things were uncertain, confusing, and stressful for a 20 year old girl, they ended up certain, clear, and pretty great with a husband and children I love more than anything I loved as a 20 year old girl.

3 months ago I never dreamed I would have a beautiful home with a fenced in backyard surrounded by friends and family. And I definitely never dreamed my best friend and some other pretty amazing friends would be our 60 sec away and 45 sec away neighbors within weeks of our move. Life feels crazy, unpredictable, and awesome sometimes. A year and a half ago we were in quite a different place. Unemployment, uncertainty, and unknown described our situation. I don't think we dreamed a year and a half down the road we would be here. But if I look back, I can see things a bit more clearly. Life doesn't always make sense, even in retrospect when you have more answers, but sometimes things seem a whole lot more clear. I'm glad our journey brought us here.

Its amazing what happens in 3 months. And that's just the beginning.

Under Age Reading...

2010-01-28T21:03:00.000-05:00

There are those moments that come along from time to time that scream, "Blog about me!"

Tonight was one of those moments occurred.

A little background first.

Aislynn is four years old. At three years old she started reading. Gasp! I know, this is obscene and not particularly the norm. Believe me, I know. I taught kindergarten once upon a time. Don't worry, my two year old thinks the letter "I" is a "2." Perhaps I will write about this early reading thing another day, but for now it is important to understand that I have a little reader. Don't worry, this is not a "brag hag" post that will make you puke. Stay with me here. Aislynn reads everything she sees, including some "expressive" thoughts on public bathroom walls, and inside park playhouses. I think you get the picture. As you can imagine, this poses a problem at times.

Which brings us to tonight. And this was a first.

It all started with this.

That's right folks. The Berenstain Bears.

Not long after I put Aislynn to bed did I hear a bedroom door slowly open and my four year old's little face peek into my room. She usually looks at a few books in her bed before falling asleep.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Mom, I have a problem," she announced with deep concern in her voice. She then handed me The Berenstain Bears Clean House. Should I be taking a hint here? Aislynn opened the book to this page and said, "Look."

Yep, the "I Can Read Books" index page. No one usually cares about this page, except my child.

I was not at all sure where this was going, drawing a blank, uh...I asked, "What's the problem with this page?"

"This book is haunted mom. See!" she pointed to the title that read, This Book Is Haunted, under author Joanne Rocklin.

I looked at her little face full of concern. This was no joke to my daughter. While trying to take this situation as serious as she made it out to be, I also tried to hold back some laughter at my early reader's interesting discovery.

"Ok," I started, "This book you are reading here is named The Clean House. This page in the back of your The Clean House book tells us a whole bunch of names of other books, see?" I pointed to the list of names including the unmentionable.

Crickets. Blank stare.

"But Mom, this book is haunted, oh no!" she persisted.

At that point I said a brief thanks to my excellent parenting combined with Nick Jr combined with the month of October which apparently had instilled in this four year old a definition to the word "haunted." Through some harmless Halloween-ish themed episodes of Wow, wow, Wubbzy-oh-and honorable mention to Mickey Mouse Club House on Disney. Thanks. (Sarcasm)

"Aislynn. This book is NOT haunted. And the word "haunted" is just a silly word that people use sometimes at Halloween (close enough to the real definition)," I added as a sub point to my original explanation.

"But Mom, see right here, THIS BOOK IS HAUNTED. We have a problem," she persisted with sincere urgency this time. I could see we were not going to get anywhere down my path of reasoning. Time to call an audible.

"I have an idea!" I said very excitedly. As a mom and former kindergarten teacher, I learned a long time ago, that if you say anything in an enthusiastic voice to children under the age of 6, they grow very excited and thrown off track.

Aislynn perked up, "What Mom?"

Eyeing a black pen on my dresser, I took matters into my own hands.

"See, is that better?" I asked

"This book is HAPPY!" she shouted. "Yes, Mom, this is so good."

Big Sigh.

"See, now we don't have a problem," I said. Aislynn was clearly happy with my edit.

"Thanks Mom," she said as she headed back off to bed.

I didn't realize I had to sensor the Berenstain Bears books...But then again, Sister Bear does play "spin the bottle" at her six year old birthday party in Too Much Birthday...

Not a "tween" romance...

2010-01-18T02:04:00.000-05:00

Lately I wanted to write something meaningful and authentic...but nothing came. I don't think I have "writers block." I think actually think I'm dealing with "writers blockage." There is so much inside my head-ideas, thoughts, feeling, etc. that I can't actually focus in on any one thing clearly creating quite a build up. So I guess I'll just write anyway and hope I can get things unclogged!

-----------------------------------------------------

It always started with a song. Actually, it started with some sort of "drama" that usually involved a boy. Then came the song. The song had to be a major downer, usually a popular and depressing song, and it had to be played on repeat. Of course this scenario also required a locked room with dim lighting or candles. The perfect scene for melodramatic teenage episodes with lots of tears, usually about insignificant problems in the whole scheme of things. Oh to be a teenager again, or not!

When the "teen years" come up in random moments at family gatherings, my father in law can always be quoted saying ,

"Oh, I'd do those teen years over in a heartbeat with the boys (my husband and his brother).

My response is usually a look of disbelief followed by, "Yea...I don't think my parents share those same sentiments."

I was not quite the model teenager. I was the perfect model of sneakiness...except when my mom caught me attempting something sneaky. She said you always have a sixth sense about your kids. Being the ripe age of 29, I now look at "tweens" and teens alike, and think,

You look like you are 5 years old! You should not be holding hands with boys! Let alone doing other things with boys...

I am constantly telling my husband I need a good 1o years to chill out before dealing with two teenage girls. I technically only have 9 years until I am faced with my first teenage girl. I am hoping my sneakiness has not genetically passed to my little ladies.

Lately I notice myself listening to songs about love. The songs are not about a superficial love, a lame boy girl drama, or something absolutely pointless. The songs are about a real, true, and unfathomable love.

I think about my teenage definition of love. How do you define something so shallow? I gave my heart away far too many times. It usually ended with a song, a candlelit room, and many tears. I remember being sixteen sitting in a car with my boyfriend, about to be x-boyfriend, pleading and crying for us not to break up, so afraid of what it would be like to not have his "love." Not the proudest most confident of moments! But there is NO fear in love. I John 4:18 says, "...perfect love expels all fear..."

I grew up in a Christian home, with a loving family, in a Christian school, memorizing lots of verses about God's love. And somehow, I still looked for love in a variety of places. Sometimes knowing something is not enough. You have to really believe it, and feel it, and practice it. I feel like it took me years to "get" that, to get "how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his [God's] love really is Ephesians 4:18." It's a constant struggle to remember this fact and to believe it, feel it, and practice it.

This year I hope to believe, feel, and practice the real love of God in all its hugeness.

I'm trying to get rid of my writers block...

2010-01-13T23:33:00.000-05:00

in the meantime, I am loving this.

Like mother like daughter.

2009-11-19T13:19:00.000-05:00

Here I am, roughly one Minnie cake, one candy corn cake, one round of mini cupcakes, and one assortment of giant cupcakes later. Since my last post, every person in my family has celebrated a birthday. After the unmentionable happened-which I shall now mention-you know, the computer fiasco; I have found it difficult to get my writing groove on. But then this morning I walked into my four year old's room.

"I really hope you are not coloring in a reading book," I said, full well knowing that is exactly what I walked in on.

Aislynn looked up from her intentional rogue coloring activity. "But mom," she started, "I don't have any paper and I needed to write you a thank you note."

That was not quite the response I was expecting, but nice. This girl is quick on her feel, resourceful. These skills could come in handy someday. But back to the crime. "Well, I love when you write me thank you notes, but next time you need to ask Mommy for some paper."

Yeah, so here is the piece of evidence. Since when did writing your own name signify a "thank you?" I do love that kids mark the seen of the crime with their own name, very sneaky.

I guess I can be thankful that she was using crayon to write inside of a book, and not permanent black marker to write on the walls and herself, like I did as a child. The "Brooke writes with permanent marker all over herself and the walls" is a classic in our family. When my mom caught me and asked what I was doing, I responded, "I don't know." Apparently, by the time my dad arrived home, I had come up with a better excuse. My new answer, "I didn't have any paper." What can I say, like mother like daughter. I wish I had been smart enough in the midst of my crime to add that I was writing a "thank you" note too!

Its back...

2009-10-10T00:05:00.001-04:00

For those of you desperate to take on my "DIY Hood to Hoodrest Tutorial" good news for you, its back! I temporarily removed the tutorial after it was brought to my attention by countless individuals concerned that the tutorial was being plagiarized for profit. This tutorial is meant for PERSONAL USE ONLY. If you are interested in purchasing a carrier like the one listed in this tutorial and not interested in sewing one, you may contact me directly via email.

Thank you so much for everyone's support and kind words about the tutorial.

In the meantime, those of you who love this tutorial will be happy to know I am working on a very in depth buckle carrier tutorial.

Happy Sewing!

Brooke

PS As always, if you have any questions about the tutorial, my carriers, or my personal creation-the one and only Mei-la Wrap, don't hesitate to contact me via email.

Mei-la Wraps:

Computer, you complete me...

2009-09-22T23:15:00.001-04:00

I came to the realization over the past 2 weeks that I am half human, half robot. I learned this after finding it extremely difficult to function as a human without my computer. Yes, I am that lame.

2 weeks ago my computer suffered a stroke and died. Cause of death? Undetermined. It is still too painful and too fresh to go through all the details. All I know is my computer completely shut down, I panicked, tried to shock it-well not really, that would likely result in a fire-but I practically gave it mouth to mouth while screaming, "Don't give up on me...I love you!" Ok, that might be a slight exaggeration, however this tragedy occurred at roughly 1:25am (Eastern time) and there were no conscious witnesses.

I spent HOURS the next day on the phone with I kid you not, THIRTEEN different HP/Tech/Tormentors. I was at about my breaking point when this conversation ensued:

(After already being forced by one phone tech to attempt to do open heart surgery on the computer tower, 10 techs later, and 6 hours later...)

*This conversation is real and actually occurred as stated below.

Tormentor: "Ma'am, please try to unscrew the screws that are attached to the side panel of the tower-"

Me: "NO!!!! I am NOT going through THAT again! No! I do not want to take apart the tower, that makes me feel very uncomfortable, I have a warranty!"

Tormentor: "Ma'am I need you to first-"

Me: "NO! The other guy already made me do that. He had me unscrew the panel, look inside and try to remove parts that would NOT come out. I do not have a screw driver that small! I am not a computer technician, I have a warranty! Why can't someone else take care of this problem!?"

Tormentor: "Ma'am I am trying to help you with this problem, but first I need you to tell me what you saw when you opened up the computer. What did you do?"

Me: Large Sigh. "Fine. I..." Told him everything I did.

At this point, Akael got sneaky, he started asking me if I did this or that when the tower was open...and, could I try to trace the bundle of wires attached to the mother board?

Wait! WHAT THE? He was trying to get me to take parts out of the computer again? I felt like I was in some sort of weird technology horror movie. I could just see all the bored computer technicians gathered around Akael's computer screen laughing hysterically at my almost mental breakdown. "Tell her to gently pop out the fan! Haha! Its screwed in! Haha! She'll feel like a dumb ass! Haha! Tell her to put her computer in the toilette! Haha..."

Although I was VERY near jumping off a cliff...or the couch, I indulged Akael as he gave me a crash course in mother board 101, computer lingo, and the hard wiring of a HP Pavilion Slimline. I could really give a sh** about all that, but if it got me to that beautiful point in the conversation where he would ask me for my warranty info I would endure.

I will spare you the gruesome details and the horrific things he made me do with the wires..unlatching wires..reattaching wires...all sorts of mad scientist stuff. I'll just bring you in to the end of the conversation, otherwise known as my full technology mental breakdown.

Me: "I CANNOT DO THIS ANYMORE!!! I HAVE BEEN ON THE PHONE FOR HOURS AND TALKED TO EVERYONE WHO WORKS AT HP! I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT! I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS! I HAVE A WARRANTY! WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME TRY TO REPAIR MY COMPUTER. IT DIED ALL THE WAY LAST NIGHT. THERE IS NO GREEN LIGHT OR YELLOW LIGHT ANYWHERE!!! AND I FEEL VERY UNCOMFORTABLE LOOKING INSIDE MY COMPUTER! I DON'T EVEN THINK WE ARE LOOKING AT THE SAME COMPUTER!! I CANNOT TAKE THIS ANYMORE! I HAVE A WARRANTY!!!!!

Akael the Tormentor: With a slight chuckle-no exaggeration.

Me: "I am not an idiot! I actually know how to use a computer pretty well. But there are major idiots out there who own computers! And I do not believe you make all of them open up their computers and take out parts. Half of those idiots don't probably even own a screw driver or know how to use one. Why are you making me do this? AHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Akael the Tormentor: Pleased that he had seen me crack. "OK Ma'am. I just need you to do one more thing for me. Screw the side panel back on and reattach the computer to the monitor and the power source and try to turn it on."

Me: WTF? You have GOT to be kidding me? Is that all? "Oh, is that all? Then what?"

Akael the Tormentor: Please Ma'am, can you do this for me and then tell me what happens.

After indulging Akael, I attempted to turn on the computer. Guess what happened? NOTHING!!! Just like I knew was going to happen roughly seven hours before that. When you see your own computer die before your own eyes, you know when its dead and its not coming back.

Akael's response to this: "OK, so it appears there is in fact something wrong with the town and it is not the monitor. I will now take down your information and someone will call you in the next 24 hours with further instructions. A box will most likely be shipped to you and you will mail in your computer tower in this box for repair."

What is this, mission impossible? At this point I was able to step away from the ledge. It only look 7 and a half hours and 13 people to get to the warranty info. I looked at my "HP care pack services" packet and now understood what the "In-home repair service" meant. I also scoffed at the picture on the cover with a grandfatherly man helping a family understand their computer problem.

Long story short:
Our computer is home safe-after being delivered in a not so safe box with little explanation of anything. I do know he had a heart transplant-AKA-the hard drive was replaced. On the plus side, I am thankful we actually had a warranty and did not have to buy a new computer. Although, I was seconds away from shouting, "Screw you Akael! I am going to the Apple Store! Take your HP Slimline and shove it!" On the minus side, I am very sad that none of our pictures, music, or documents could be recovered...or so they say. They are tormentors over at HP so who knows...

I don't know that I will ever get that image out of my head of my computer fully open and exposed, mother board and all, but I will try to heal and back up everything while I am at it! Oh, wait I currently have nothing to back up.

Me: Fists raised and on my knees "HP!!!"

Going for the dramatic finish.

PS: I have also learned I do not need a computer to complete me.

ret·ro·spect [ réttrə spèkt ]

2009-09-04T14:03:00.000-04:00

Just 24 days shy of four years old, Aislynn loves life.

Today in the car she announced, " I am SO excited!" full of anticipation about the playdate we were driving to, and the new friends we would meet. She actually had no idea what we would be doing or who we would be doing it with.

"How many friends will there be?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said.

She followed up, "What will their names be?"

"We'll just have to wait and see," I responded.

On arriving to our playdate with some new moms we were meeting, all but one for the first time, Aislynn was beaming. "Ooo..they have a park in their back yard!" she announced.

Park, swing set, what's the difference right? Aislynn proceeded to play, greet some of the children, wave at the moms, and even serenade some of them with her rendition of Amazing Grace.

One of the moms asked me, "Has she always been this friendly?"

And there it was, the question I never dreamed I would be asked in regards to this little girl. It was a question I only dreamed, hoped, and prayed a little less than 2 years ago that I might be asked someday.

I responded to the mom's question, and gave a mini synopsis of Aislynn's 180 degree turn around trip from anti-social, to social extremist. The mom of course, was very surprised by my response based on Aislynn's current extremely happy and social demeanor.

On the way home I started to think back. It was one of those retrospective moments. A moment where you are outside of a particular situation and you actually have some perspective, Rays of light finally shine through. You actually find some light at the end of an endless dark tunnel. You need those moments to give you hope for the other tunnels you still might find yourself in.

And so I realized that everyone we meet and have met in our new home in Bloomington Indiana will meet my extremely friendly, sweet, smart, kind and outgoing little girl.

They will never know that this same little girl who runs right up to people eager to introduce herself, used to freeze like a deer in the headlights when other children her same age approached. They will never know that she used to refuse to acknowledge other children and actually ran away from them.

This little lover of all new experiences and people used to cry when things were not "just so" or when new people were in the mix. I even remember the Christmas after she turned 2, celebrating Christmas at my in-laws when she refused to sit at the table with her aunt, uncle, and cousins the first night we arrived. She barely made it into the house. It was so extreme, we had to eat in the other room away from everyone else that first night. Those were some dark moments.

And once again I remember dreaming, hoping, and praying that someday, someday she might become more social. I dreamed, hoped, and prayed that she would find a way to enjoy other people, tolerate new experiences, love life, and tell me all her little ponderings while eating more than 5 foods. Many days, it seemed like an unattainable goal, and merely a dream.

But hope never died. We pressed on through the sometimes very dark tunnel because we knew there would be light at the end if we could hold on to hope. Life is not perfect. Aislynn is not prefect. But she is a dream come true.

________________________________

NEVER would have happened 2 years ago. Now a reality...

Reading to little sis...

Hugging little sis...even though little sis is turning out to be quite the little bully...

Fireworks, loud noises...

Trying and LOVING new things...

Loving friends, being a friend.

"One Buddy a Night"

2009-08-14T00:30:00.000-04:00

The story of the "One Buddy a Night" Rule.

Every night at the Fullers we embark on a journey through Aislynn's bedtime routine. It begins with a story and the extremely important choosing of a buddy.

Once upon a time when we were idiots, Andy and I lined up about 15 tiny stuffed animals on a long rainbow colored worm in Aislynn's bed as we embarked on "The Routine."

As time went on, the line up became increasingly large and insane. The "little buddies" soon required a specific order, a certain type of positioning, chaos erupted if a "buddy" fell off the worm or heaven forbid-fell on the floor!

Ever night I would think, this is insane! Why have we become slaves to this tiny little girl, the Little Einsteins, the entire Mickey Mouse Club House, Magenta, Valentine Bear, Lovey Puppy, as well as some stragglers? I couldn't take it any longer. Goofy refused to sit up straight. I never liked Goofy. I will not be Goofy's b**** any longer!

Then there was puke-LOTS of it.

One day in the town of Bloomington, Aislynn became the sickest I have ever seen her in her almost 4 years of life. She threw up intensely on 14 of the 15 buddies. It was a sad day at Mickey's Club House, particularly for Mickey. Genius finally struck when I realized that my child did not need to sleep with 15 tiny stuffed animals in a row on a large worm. Cleaning up 14 casualties from the puking incident really clarified my resolution.

So we implemented a "one buddy a night" rule when Aislynn recovered from an eternity of the flu variety show. She would be allowed to choose one special sleepover"buddy" a night. No entourage, no clubs, or gangs permitted-one lone character as a sleeping companion. I thought she would protest, I thought for sure she would fight for the WHOLE Club House. No fight, little protest, I think the causalities of the flu disturbed everyone including Aislynn.

I still shudder thinking about the implications of that flu.

Rainbow worm, may you rest in peace.

se·cret

2009-08-10T20:04:00.000-04:00

It was not too long ago that I wrote about the first in a series of unfortunate events, the lost wedding ring-specifically MY lost wedding ring. I have a confession to make. I lost my wedding ring AGAIN. I know! I can already feel people shouting at me, "How did you manage that...why do you take it off at all...didn't you learn your lesson...why don't you have a safe place to put it...are you an idiot..." I KNOW. AH! I have no good reason, excuse, or explanation. I am a self-proclaimed repeat offender with a horrible habit of taking my ring off numerous times throughout my day. After I find my ring, I swear I am going to kick this habit! OK...probably shouldn't swear...just to be on the safe side.

So now you know. I am truly ridiculous and thankfully married to an easy going guy who refrains from finger pointing every time I lose my ring. I made my confession, how about you?

A couple months ago, my bff sent me a message asking me if I "posted a secret." She was sure that one of the "secrets" was mine. My mind drew a blank. I hoped I didn't have any secrets floating around being posted in random locations! I clicked on the link she included in her message. It took me here. I scrolled through anonymous, postcard size images, each revealing a secret, confession, or unspoken thought. Intrigued, I briefly read post after post-or secret after secret. I scrolled through humor, regret, anger, anguish, joy, indifference, bias, happiness, excitement, etc. You name the emotion and there was a secret to go with it.

Do you know there are 12 definitions for the word "secret?" That's a whole lot of defining for a one little word. This post is not meant to analyze my secrets, your secrets, or secrets on a deeper level. I just thought you might like to get a little something off your chest in an anonymous sort of way, because everyone likes to be anonymous sometimes.

If you have a secret or unspoken thought you'd like to get off your chest just leave it as a comment on this post and click "anonymous." Maybe speaking the unspoken might just lighten your week a bit.

A series of unfortunate events...

2009-07-08T11:20:00.000-04:00

One of the worst weeks of my life probably occurred in 1998. Here’s how that week played out: Tuesday, get rear ended (passenger) and a nice case of whiplash. Thursday, get in second car accident as the passenger, fun, fun, fun! Friday, go to the ER with high fever, severe pain, and possible appendicitis. Saturday, receive Crohns disease diagnosis. No doubt about it, pretty bad week.

Over the past 2 weeks, I experienced a series of unfortunate events that pale in comparison to the events in my “one of the worst weeks ever” file, but these events were nonetheless, unfortunate.

Event Number 1: The lost ring.

If a wedding ring had nine lives, mine is on life number 5. Last week in a joyous reunion, I found my wedding ring crammed under the leg of the dresser in Isla’s room. I scooped up the ring, embraced-a beautiful moment. Before that joyous reunion, my wedding ring had gone MIA for approximately 2 weeks. Every single day I scoured a new quadrant of the house like an episode of CSI. Everyday I announced to Andy, “If I can’t find my ring I am going to go insane! Seriously, I am going to FLIP OUT.” To which he replied, “I kind of thing that already happened…” To which I replied, “Oh no, this is not flipping out, if I can’t find my ring you’ll see flipping out. Ah!!!” I think it’s safe to say that Andy too, felt extreme relief for a variety of reasons after my ring returned safely to my finger.

After the whole ordeal I reminisced about the other close calls: The time it went through the washer, the time it almost went through the washer at my in-laws’ house and fell onto the basement floor, the time I left in the GAP dressing room in December, the time it ended up in the dress up clothes courtesy of someone small, and all the times I placed it in spots I did not remember placing it.

Now I know you might be judging me right now, I would probably judge. Don’t get me wrong, I love being married. I love strolling through Target with my wedding ring properly in place as a sign of my love and commitment, and also a sign of my claim on the cute guy walking next to me. But for some reason I find it extremely difficult to complete many household tasks while wearing my ring, it’s a little loose, so I inevitably take it off and place it in a variety of semi-regular hangout spots for safe keeping…or not so safe keeping.

I wish I could promise to never lose it again. Believe me; I will TRY VERY HARD, all caps. If all else fails, I only used about 5 lives so far, so I'd say we've got 4 to go!

(More unfortunate events to come…)

Tease...

2009-07-07T01:02:00.000-04:00

So I have been on hiatus/vacation/visiting family which explains my lack of blogging. My husband, a former news anchor, taught me that a "tease" in the news biz, is that that highlight they show at the start of the news cast about a story that's eventually coming-that quick clip they show in between commercials, previewing the upcoming story, to get your attention and keep you from channel surfing.

In the spirit of "teasing," I thought I would do so about my upcoming blogging activity. Hopefully blogging tomorrow will fall somewhere after laundry, paying bills, catching up on life, and ballet class. We shall see!

So here's my tease:
It's coming...

Title: A series of unfortunate events...
1. Wedding ring lost (breathe) and found
2. Getting on the wrong train...out of Chicago
3. Shutting the trunk of our Saturn Vue on my face

All unfortunate. All blogworthy. Stay tuned.

The day after Father's Day...

2009-06-23T00:31:00.000-04:00

What happens the day after Father’s Day? Hopefully after a day of a little appreciation and maybe a nap, dads go on being dads. I am thankful for fathers 365 days a year. I figured since everyone covered dads yesterday, I’d say a “thank you” for the other 364 days a year x 28 years my dad “fathered” me-because dads never stop being dads! (left, my dad holding his very content granddaughter, Isla)

I am openly thankful and unashamed to proclaim that I won the lottery twice. I am the proud daughter of an amazing and very over the top father. Lottery win number one.

In my "husbandless" days, I wondered if I would truly find: A- the best mate to live up to my dad’s standard, and B- the best mate to be the best father to my hypothetical children. After all, my dad set the bar pretty high. Thankfully, my wandering and wondering led me to a man who is both the perfect husband for me and best father for my little girls-lottery win number two (QUITE post worthy…we’ll save that for another day...)!

When I was a little girl, I never wondered if my dad loved me. I never felt starved for attention. My dad kept a busy schedule, got up extremely early in the morning to get work done, taught overloads, and traveled to speaking engagements all over the world-literally. I was mostly oblivious to his insane work load. It never mattered how small a role I had in an “extracurricular,” my dad was there. For anything and everything I was involved in, he was front and center. Rarely were there any “schedule conflicts” because my dad would schedule right over any of his “conflicts” for me. There were even times I said, “Dad, its ok, this thing is really not important.” He would always say, “But it is important, you’re in it.”

I never once doubted that my dad valued me and anything that involved me. My dad always displayed genuine interest. My dad has listened to me ramble from one end to the other, anticipating my next word with genuine interest and response. In my younger years, I owned a long list of random extracurricular activities ranging from water polo, to student counsel, to cross country, to debate team, to choir and on. I never saw a sigh, rolled eyes, or boredom on the face of my father standing on the sideline. He enthusiastically cheered me on, no matter how beautifully I sang, or how horribly I ran. Excited, joyous, and supportive-that is how he felt about everything I did, no matter how insignificant or silly. Excited, joyous, and supported is how I felt.

Time, distance, and space have never mattered to my dad; whether I lived 2.5 hours away in Indiana, 1.5 hours away in Illinois, or 5.5 hours away in Southern Indiana. No distance has ever been too great for my dad to travel. On numerous occasions while living in Illinois, he would call to see if he could “swing by” for a bit. I never considered an hour and a half the “swinging” sort of distance, but to my dad, it was practically down the street.

One time, while living in Lafayette, the night before an important test, I found myself in a real bind. I needed to have a medical test done at 6:45 am and needed someone to watch Aislynn. My dad drove the 2.5 hours leaving home at about 2:30am to watch his granddaughter and support me. This is the example of the “over the top-ness,” for which he is well known.

The “over the top-ness” did not simply appear when cute granddaughters entered the picture. Over the top is his middle name, although he might argue it’s Robert. When I was in the 5^th grade my dad read a mystery series with me, the “Mandy Books.” Every night, we read a chapter together. We made our way through quite a few books when my dad took a speaking trip to Japan for 2 plus weeks. This trip would halt our reading sessions for a while, I thought. Perfectly capable of reading to myself or displaying patience and waiting for him to return, my dad had other plans. He taped himself reading more than 14 days of chapters so that I could put in a tape each night and still have him reading with me. That is what extreme love and dedication look like.

I could go on and on about the times my dad has bent over backwards to be there for me or his granddaughters, or sacrificed time and money he didn’t have for me. I could recall his passion and deep love for me and my siblings in story after story. I could tell you about his endless love, joy, and concern for his grandchildren. In fact, I could right an entire post about my dad the amazingly over the top grandpa! But my dad would never call himself “over the top.”

My dad would never make a big deal about listening to me go on and on about my latest invention or creative idea. He would never pat himself on the back for making it to events, and games, and choir concerts when I was a child. He would never broadcast that on one particular day when all the ladies in my house were sick, he left his house in northern Illinois at 2:30 am to drive the 5 hours to Southern Indiana to “help me out” for the day, only to turn around and drive 5 hours back to his home that same night. No, my dad would never make a big deal out of any sacrifice of time, energy, money, or sleep ever made.

It’s truly not a big deal to him; it’s just being a dad. I could not have asked for a better dad in the last 364 days x 28 years.

Look how far we've come...

2009-06-18T18:00:00.000-04:00

There’s nothing cuter than 3 year old little girls wearing leotards attempting ballet poses. Aislynn gave ballet a try this week with much enthusiasm. After a full week of talking about going to ballet class, followed by “practicing” for ballet class, the actual day of ballet class finally arrived. Fully decked out in ballet apparel a full 3 hours before class, Aislynn anxiously waited for 2:30PM to arrive (our scheduled departure time). When 2:30PM finally rolled around, she commented, “This is going to be GREAT mom!” On the drive over, I actually started to feel a little nervous, hoping this little 30 min ballet class would meet my little “ballerina-to-be’s” enthusiastic expectations.

We walked into the tiny ballet studio and met Mrs. H. “HELLO BALLET TEACHER!” Aislynn excitedly proclaimed. I am convinced Aislynn might actually be the most enthusiastic student to greet Mrs H. in her 39+ years teaching ballet. Mrs H. found some tap shoes for a grinning Aislynn to try on while waiting for the other students to arrive. 5 minutes later, 3 little girls decked out in leotards, ballet skirts, and hair bows walked into the room, immediately greeted by the newest and happiest addition to their class. Aislynn was actually entering the ballet classes 2 classes into the session and took it upon herself to make up some lost time with her fellow ballerinas. “Hi girls!” She announced vigorously waving as she approached the small cluster, “It's time for our ballet class! My name is Aislynn Rae Fuller,” then turning to me she asked, “What are all the girl’s names?” Her fellow classmates actually looked a bit surprised. I think they too, had never met such an enthusiastic little girl. I turned to the moms and said, “As you can see, she is very excited to be here.” They all smiled.

Finally the moment arrived. The tiny class of tiny ballerinas was under way. They started with a variety of body movements and marching with little tap shoes. Next, ballet shoes, some attempted leaping across the room, ballet bar, tumbling and rolling on a mat, and of course stretching. Mrs. H’s clear expertise showed, as she spent just the right amount of time on ever step to keep the girls attention. It was a jam packed 3o mins. filled with new things, unpredictables, music, concentration, interaction, and of course fun.

For me this sweet, simple 30 min ballet class represented a milestone. All the components of this day-the new faces, friends, activities, sounds, unknowns-that made it so joyous for my little life lover, would have sent her into a tailspin 1.5 years ago. Today as I attempted to tidy up and go through boxes on a search for my missing wedding ring (we’ll save that story for another day, hopefully when I am sharing how I found my missing ring), I came across a large blue binder titled, “Aislynn’s therapy notebook.” Flipping through the dense book evoked mixed emotions: Gratefulness and thankfulness realizing where we are at and how far we have come; anxiety and fear, remembering such an unpredictable and difficult time.

I remembered weeks filled with 4-5 various therapy sessions a week while caring for a very cranky, fussy baby Isla (see left, Andy working his magic on high maintenance baby Isla). I remembered exhausted, sleepless nights getting up with a newborn, wrestling with a possible autism diagnosis, and dreaming about activities I could do with Aislynn to help with her various delays. I reflected on the chaos of fear, while trying to find peace with what the future might hold. I actually felt my heart rate accelerate as I flipped open the book to the section entitled “evaluations.” I pulled out a report entitled “Initial speech language pathology report, 12/14/07.” At that time my now 3.5 year old socialite and enthusiastic lover of life, was a very different little girl.

At the time of this initial speech evaluation, Aislynn was 26 months old (see right, Aislynn 26 months playing in 10lbs of rice = sensory activity time). You can read a condensed version of Aislynn’s developmental journey here. I skimmed the report flipping to the “stats” on the last page and Aislynn’s delays laid out plainly in percentages according to the Rossetti Infant Toddler Language Scale: Pragmatics 35% delay, Gesture 23% delay, play 35% delay, language comprehension 15% delay, language expression 12% delay. This evaluation only dealt with language and socialization. We also had issues in the area of nutrition, feeding, sensory, and occupational therapy.

At that point in time-where I am standing right now-was nowhere close to being a reality, only a hope and a dream. Back then, it was in my moments of optimism, hope, faith, belief, and pleading with God that I saw glimpses of playdates instead of solitary play, joyful greetings instead of tantrums and refusing to say hello to others, and conversations laughing and talking instead of scripted and literal speech. It was in my most hopeful times that I dreamed someday my little girl might go to ballet class with other little girls and laugh, smile, and pose. Answers.com defines hope, “to wish for something with expectation of its fulfillment.” Today I am fulfilled.

MY 1st YOU CAPTURE CHALLENGE: EMOTION

2009-06-18T17:09:00.000-04:00

This is the first "YOU CAPTURE" for me. After browsing blogs, I came across "I should be folding laundry" and thought, "How Ironic? I actually SHOULD be folding laundry right now!"

So here is my attempt to capture in a photo, the challenge word: EMOTION

I have 2 energetic excited, and emotional little girls. Yea...really looking forward to the teen years with these 2.

I love candids. Here's Isla (18months) "talking" to Grandpa, well...listening. He is very animated!

EMOTION: CONCENTRATION

EMOTION: SURPRISE! (Grandpa must be funny) :)

Here's Aislynn, my little reader. I love taking pictures of her reading and watching her little facial expressions.

EMOTION: CONCENTRATION

EMOTION: HAPPY

SEEING with a Purpose

2009-06-03T02:11:00.000-04:00

I prayed that she would call-she did. I wanted a second chance-I got one. 2 months ago I wrote about a very special meeting between strangers. 2 months ago I was in the right place at the right time. Some people might call it fate, or destiny, or a strange coincidence. I don’t believe in any of those things, I believe in purpose.

You can look back at the meeting I am referring to in greater detail, but here are a few “Cliff’s notes” for those who are feeling a little lazy. In my second week as a Bloomington resident I met a mom at the children’s museum. The minute I saw her, I thought “she needs one of my baby carriers.” In one hand she held a very young baby, holding her other hand was a 3 year old little girl with very fine hair and an incision scar on the back of her head. This little girl was receiving proton therapy for her brain cancer here in Bloomington. She was 5 hours from home, and calling Bloomington her “home” for the next 2.5 months. The mom noticed a carrier I was wearing and we struck up a conversation, I gave the mom my number and waited. She called, we talked, we played phone tag, time passed, and we talked some more. She was very interested in trying out a particular carrier I make. Before a conversation involving cost and payment arose, I told her something I had wanted to say for weeks as I waited for the right time to say it. I said, “I just want you to know that I am making you a carrier as a gift. I don’t want you to feel weird, but the minute I saw you I felt like it was the right thing to do. I saw you had a little baby and a little girl with a scar on the back of her head, and I imagined that meant you were experiencing something huge. I cannot even begin to imagine all you are going through, but I can make baby carriers, and if I can do this small thing for you that can at least provide you some help and relief and freedom, then it is what I should do. I know we barely know each other, but we are both moms who love our children and we have that in common.” This warrior of a mom thanked me, and we set up a meeting just 3 short days before she would return home to Chicago.

I loaded up my special carrier, probably the most significant carrier I have pieced together, along with Miss Congeniality otherwise known as my sweet 3 year old, Aislynn. There was a time she would have won the Miss UN-Congeniality award. I never would have dreamed a year and a half ago when an autism diagnosis was a possibility, that this little girl would become one of the most congenial children I know. If you look at my previous posts about Aislynn you will see what I mean. With great enthusiasm, Aislynn accompanied me to “play with a new friend with fun toys,” in her words. We met at Jill’s House, a place where many families stay while receiving treatment. The little girl and her dad slowly walked down out to greet us. Immediate perspective punched me in the face. I wanted to burst into tears, but realized this family did not need my tears or pity; they needed empathy, listening ears, and a genuine heart. I sucked it up and said a warm hello. As we greeted one another, and walked inside, I followed behind Aislynn, noticing my own little girl’s long hair swaying back and forth with bows on the back of her head, walking next to a sweet little girl, her same age with very fine hair and a large incision scar on the back of her head. Cancer on its own is not acceptable. Cancer in a child is absolutely and completely unacceptable.

It was love at first carry. We put baby brother in his new cozy carrier while the girls played their version of go fish, completed synchronized puzzles, and shared chocolate milk. We visited and talked. I listened and tried to encourage, empathize, and get a few smiles and laughs in there. It’s a fine line to walk between genuine care and concern and prying; between not acknowledging the obvious and becoming fixated on the obvious. I have come to believe there is no ultimate right answer for how to interact with someone experiencing something huge. I do know listening, sensitivity and intuition help. For the finale of our little meet up, the girls took turns riding the tricycle down the long dormitory hallway. We said goodbye and planned on meeting the next night for our little friend’s going away party.

On the drive home I tried to process what a reality that involved fighting your own child’s cancer would feel like. My heart ached as I imagined that reality. I attempted to wrap my mind around a child enduring a hardship, a battle to live, that most people will never know. I replayed the evening in my mind and felt amazingly peaceful and passionate about my involvement with this family. I felt love, compassion and empathy for this little girl. I felt purpose.

We returned for the going away party the next night. We greeted the guest of honor as Aislynn announced, “I’m so happy to see you!” I felt proud and regretful all at once; proud that my little girl showed such genuine joy, regretful that I had not done more. I started thinking, “If only I would have called her more…if only I would have asked them to come over to play sooner…I should have brought them dinner…” I found my thoughts quickly interrupted as a balled up piece of gift wrap landed on my arm. A spunky little boy shyly apologized at the immediate scolding from his mother. I looked at this energetic little boy and noticed the band around his arm. I looked over at his slightly embarrassed mom and noticed the weariness. The regret I was feeling immediately vanished as I felt a new purpose.

I started to piece this situation together and asked this new mom flat out, “Are you staying at Jill’s House?” The response was as I expected. We continued our conversation, and I learned the little boy full of life and energy, attempting to break dance, was being treated for brain cancer. She would stay in Bloomington with her son while he received 22 treatments. The rest of her family, were back home in Tennessee. I then learned we were both married, we both had children the exact same age too. She had a little boy the same age as my Isla at home, and the little boy in front of me shared the same birthday week as Aislynn. My purpose was to be a friend to this new mom as I said goodbye to another mom where my purpose had been filled. I am learning about action. Making a difference, being a friend, doing something real and meaningful requires action. When someone is drowning, a good lifeguard doesn’t wait for the person drowning to swim to shore to be saved; the lifeguard dives into the water and carries them out. I by no means am "saving" anyone, I am just trying to be available and aware. As we became better acquainted, I volunteered my digits to my new found friend, which she quickly accepted.

The celebration continued full of pizza, presents, bean bag dancing, and swing set time. After Aislynn was thoroughly exhausted (although she would never admit it), we had to say our goodbyes filled with meaningful hugs. I felt an extreme mix of emotions, it was indeed bittersweet. Before we got in our car, the little guest of honor turned to her dad and asked, “Daddy, when we get back to Chicago can we come back and see Aislynn?” He quickly responded, “Of course.” As I shut my car door I immediately said a pleading prayer to God that we would see our little friend again, and that she would enjoy many, many more years of life supported by a family so clearly bursting with love for one another.

Once again, I started to process. I felt aware, where I was once unaware. It is impossible to un-see something once you have seen it. For me, I could not un-see this reality that these families faced. Filled with emotion, sadness, fear, passion, questions-I realized my new found friends lived these emotions multiplied times 100 every single day as they fought for the lives of their children. I thought about these moms. As I meet more and more amazing moms, I continue to conclude that mothers are amazing warriors. These moms fought passionately for their children to experience childhood and more. I am not done processing; I am not done gaining perspective. I feel passionate about the days to come with my new friend. Aislynn has already determined that she will play pirates with her new friend when he comes over to our house. I would not be honest if I did not tell you that I am a little scared. I But fear can’t get in the way of purpose.

There are so many factors about this situation that make it intriguing to me: The fact that I met two moms each with a child my own daughter’s age, both in need of a true friend. The fact that I on a whim, I took my girls to the museum 2 and a half months ago and met a stranger. The fact that the first mom, led me to the second mom. I could make a very long list of factors that you might find interesting. Some people might call it fate, or destiny, or a strange coincidence. But I don’t believe in any of those things, I believe in purpose.

LAUN·DRY

2009-05-28T03:53:00.000-04:00

Does this sign make you feel as happy as it makes me feel?

WHY WEDNESDAY 3

2009-05-27T20:08:00.000-04:00

The evening WHYS:

When Isla launched her bowl of pears across the room, WHY did it have to land all over the wall, ceiling, couch, floor, vacuum cleaner, carpet, and table. SERIOUSLY! That was ridiculous.

WHY did Isla launch pears across the room today in the first place?

WHY do the ants return, even after I have killed the queen! (according to the ant trap box, which guarantees a dead queen within 24 hours and a dead ant population).

WHY can't John and Kate just suck it up and fight for their marriage?

WHY can't Kate get that big chunk of hair trimmed?

WHY do I have such a disdain for my own foot maintenance?

WHY is my husband so hot? (no complaints!)

WHY do I seriously have idea ADD?

WHY do people become obsessed with facebook applications?

WHY can't I ever be neighbors with this girl again?

Summer begins

2009-05-24T00:12:00.000-04:00

"Every drop of sun is full of fun and wonder..." -Nicole Nordeman

Friends on purpose: A Birthology

2009-05-22T13:50:00.000-04:00

Almost 10 years ago...when umbros and tie die were in (Disclaimer: We were playing powder puff football)!

Just to clarify. This post is dedicated to my BFF on her birthday...well, 5 days late. People write Eulogies when loved ones pass, so I thought, why not write a "birthology" and say a little something about our special person's life while she is alive and can actually enjoy hearing how great she is! Happy Birthday Ang, thanks for being born.

I was born on October 15, 1980. Seven months and 3 days later, my non-biological twin entered the world 2 states away. Though this story possesses the qualities of a Lifetime movie, it is completely and entirely 100% true.

Almost 9 years ago in August of 1999, I was standing on the 3^rd floor of Shupe Hall-room 314 to be exact. I was wearing a navy blue tank top from JC Pennys and a khaki pair of shorts (that laced up the front-hot). Angie Marie Mabry strolled into the room sporting a short pair of blue jean shorts, and yellow Tommy tank accompanied by one ridiculous high school boyfriend. We spent an enter day perfecting the arrangement of our room (mostly due to my OCD room organizing affliction where I need to see 45 ways to arrange a room before picking the perfect arrangement of furniture for optimal space maximization). We stayed up obscenely late our first night together, cutting out colored stars to tape around the perimeter of our room and swapping life stories…well, 18 years of life thus far. If it was not obvious from our matching pajama pants, staying up late tendencies, similar music taste, rice loving ways that we would be BFFs; it was blaringly obvious when we both overslept during freshman orientation and missed a mandatory freshman test. We never made up the test and still managed to graduate.

48 hours into freshman orientation, everyone instantly assumed we were childhood best friends, that we grew up on the same street, shared birthday parties, and graduated from the same high school. Jaws literally dropped, and eye brows rose when one of us casually said, “Oh no, we were randomly paired, we just met 48 hours ago.” Actually, that was not entirely true. We did meet over a phone call when I received the name “Angela Marie Mabry” on my roommate assignment slip in the mail. We shared a little small talk while I conducted secret evaluations, checking for brand recognition by throwing out names like “Abercrombie” and “Doc Martins” into the conversation. She passed the test.

96 hours into the college freshman experience, and we co hosted our first party-a snow cone party to be exact. It was BYOI of course, “Bring your own ice.” You might say they were the ultimate freshmen mingling parties. Together, we invested about $10.00 a piece into a sweet hand crank plastic snow cone machine. It broke ½ way through one of these parties when the ice cranking got a little crazy. We actually ran out to replace the machine on the spot. We refused to disappoint our fans. When you are building a legacy, no price is too great!

2 years through college and we decided, individually, to study abroad. One might assume that best friends would travel to the same location, and buy matching “I heart ____” shirts. Since neither one of us was the “follower” in the relationship, we chose 2 completely different locations- China and Jerusalem. I tried convincing Angie to follow me to China, and she tried to convince me to follow her to Jerusalem. Being independent adventures, we decided to go our own ways. We broadened our horizons, stretched open our world views, and experienced life through different eyes.

4 months later we boarded planes, and exchanged souvenirs back on common soil. We shared culture shock, Boone’s farm, the hookah, tears, laughs, memories and stories together about our adventures.

2 years later, we graduated college (2.5 years later for me). We stood in each other’s weddings as we married college roommates, we gave each other “toasts” and pointers on marriage and all that it entails…

5 months into MY marriage (a year for Ang), and we both caught “the pregnancy.” Actually, I caught it first, and then prayed for Angie to catch it. Thankfully God answered my prayer and 3000 miles apart, we both were “expecting”-one boy for her, one girl for me. Through months of food cravings, body changes, swollen ankles, moves across town and the country, and first time mom preparation, we kept each other appraised of the play by play.

9 months later (10 for Angie), we birthed some babies V-style and so together we embarked on a journey into the hood, motherhood to be exact. Instead of taking pictures together, we now took pictures of our miniature people together. Baby O and Baby A even shared a few photographed baths together for blackmail purposes of course. We were neighbors by no means, living 2.5 hours apart, but you never would have known. Our friendship has never been one affected by mileage.

9 months flew by and Angie was surprised with round 2, growing Baby E. Although I did not catch the pregnancy quite as quickly the second time around, I caught my own surprise 9 months after that. We each birthed another baby-2 girls total-Ella, and Isla. We kicked ass going old school all the way-o-natural. No Epidurals here, C-sections not welcome.

2 days into Ella’s sweet little existence and a storm rolled in. Ella had a cleft palette, which made eating extremely difficult and near impossible. A new baby on its own can be an overwhelming experience for a mom. Throw medical issues, and a toddler at home in the mix and you’ve got a recipe for a break down. There were no breakdowns. Moms are the toughest creatures on the planet. My heart ached for my best friend as I watched her take on the unknown, stand up for her baby, and deal with hardships I had not experienced in our non-biological twin existence. Angie taught me about courage, faith, hope, and what being an advocate for your child really means. She refused to be managed or handled. She spoke up when it was necessary, kicked ass if it came to it, and refused to let any terminology, and diagnosis define her sweet little Ella. (Read more about this amazing journey and more over at Angie’s blog)

Almost 2 years later, the lessons I learned from my best friend proved immeasurably valuable when I heard the word “autism” uttered in the same sentence as my daughter’s name. With an extremely high maintenance fussy baby at home and a toddler with developmental delays, I was on the verge of my own breakdown. Bu there were no breakdowns. As I said, before, moms are truly the toughest and most resourceful creatures. After my paralysis at hearing such words wore off, I refused to let fear, ignorance, and possible denial define my decisions and so I dove head first into searching for answers for Aislynn. We scheduled our autism diagnostic and prayed. In the meantime we started developmental therapy, speech therapy, play therapy, eating therapy, and nutrition. Angie and I both lived through days and weeks filled with therapy, appointments, and quests for answers. I don’t think we both ever dreamed we’d have to wear the hardcore mother advocate hat so much in such a short amount of time.

Months passed, and it was hard. We rode our individual emotional roller coasters in the grand amusement park of life. I wanted things to be different for the both of us, for both our little girls. It was undeniably challenging but there was something slightly comforting knowing that we both knew what it meant to have 3 therapy sessions plus, a week and issues the average mom did not face.

Time passed and miracles happened. Ella proved to be just as strong willed and sassy as her mom. They said she would be blind; they said she might not hear, they said she might have major life altering challenges and never meet milestones. But they were wrong. Ella sees, she hears, and she is conquering those milestones. She doesn’t swear, but if she did I think Ella would say “Take that bitches! Put that in your pipe and smoke it!” She recently turned 2 and has been through and conquered more than most people will in a life time. She’s been through hospital stays, surgeries, therapies, and tests, all with one amazing activist and mom at her side. I have no doubt in my mind that Ella will continue to defy the odds and show everyone up. I am honored and proud to say, “Hey see that girl over there…yeah, the rock star mom with the fire cracker for a daughter, she’s my best friend.”

In March, 2008 I heard the most amazing words, “Your daughter does NOT have autism. “ Twins are supposed to share everything, even non-biological ones, so why not share some miracles. It was as if I could breathe again after holding my breath for months. Those were the words I truly in my heart wanted to hear, and I prayed I would hear, and then I heard them. Aislynn continued to receive all her developmental therapies and made great progress. She still goes to speech and has some sensory issues with food, but we have done a 180 like I only dreamed was possible.

Today I can hardly be surprised that 2 sweet and spunky littler girls with us for moms should defy all odds. I know you might be questioning if this is start of a screen play for a Lifetime movie, rest assured it is not. I cannot promise however, that you won’t see this story in a book someday coauthored by the two of us! I don’t believe in coincidence. Random things don’t just happen, and Angie and I were not randomly paired for roommates almost 10 years ago. I know what you are thinking, “Wait a minute! You said at the start of this life synopsis you were randomly matched for roommates?” But I looked up the word random: “lacking any definite plan or purpose.” It IS true that no one in the Bethel admissions office knew what they were doing when they paired the two of us. They saw we both were left handed and liked to stay up late and thought, “Why not!” I told people for years that my best friend and I were “randomly” matched for college roommates. But that’s not true. From day one to day 3,650 our friendship has never been random. It has NEVER been “lacking any definite plan or purpose.” It is the opposite of random, full of purpose.

"THAT is a BAD IDEA" Thursday

2009-05-21T11:25:00.000-04:00

Last Thursday I discussed the biblike necklace as an incredibly bad idea. Today I would like to dedicate a little time to a number of bad ideas that are on my mind, in no particular order...

A little junk in the trunk...ok. Junk spilling out of your trunk-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
Smoking 2 millimeters outside the entrance to the store I am trying to walk into with my small children-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
Taking your snotty nosed, coughing kid to the park or the Barnes and Noble to mingle with the other kids and give them bear hugs-THAT IS A BAD IDEA (at least try to keep it a secret your kid is sick).
Licking bubbles off the floor (Isla)-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
Blue unitards for pregnant ladies-for anybody! THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
More than one patty of beef in a sandwich at any fast food establishment-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
The baby bjorn...for the most part-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
No deodorant-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
Touching a pregnant woman's belly without permission-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
Asking a woman if she is pregnant-even if she looks like she could give birth that minute-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
Touching a little babie's hand who is not your baby in the line at the store-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
Commenting on someone's weight gain-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
Using the credit card checks your credit card company sends you in the mail-THAT IS A BAD IDEA.
Not heading my advice on all of the above items. THAT IS A BAD IDEA.

The man, the medicine ball, and the russian twist.

2009-05-20T04:00:00.000-04:00

In the previous post I revealed a startling "Why" in "WHY WEDNESDAY." Yes, Hubs-we'll call him AF (since those are his initials) annihilated my cherry tomato plant courtesy of a medicine ball. The only thing I can imagine worse than this, would be if a meteor came blasting through the atmosphere and landed on the plant. That might be a minor exaggeration for effect, but this event was catastrophic.

I have a small garden. By "small" I mean cherry tomatoes, herbs, a pepper plant, onions (which will probably die), and purple flowers (I have no idea what they are called-serious gardener as you can see). By "garden" I mean 4 pots containing such items. So I am not particularly a BIG gardener, but in my heart I am! After a trip to the Bloomington farmers market in April, I became inspired to plant...stuff. I chose the items that had the best chance of surviving with me as the gardener and a life in a pot. I actually do not care for tomatoes one bit. I love all byproducts of tomatoes, but the tomatoes themselves, in their natural state-no thanks. I just can't get past the texture, and don't even try to give me any sort of sauce with chunky tomatoes in it. Hmm...imagine I should have a child with "food sensory" texture issues...we'll tackle that one another day, or week or month...

Even though I do not like tomatoes, per say, I optimistically dreamed I might just like cherry tomatoes if I grew them myself (no real logic there). After watching my 3 little baby cherry tomato plants grow into teen vegetable plants, I felt fulfilled and excited to see them blossom into ladies-or little sassy tomatoes. Things were great, me happy, plants growing, until a tragedy occurred in the form of AF launching (might be exaggerating) a medicine ball at my beautiful plant.

AF does a new "medicine ball" workout on the deck. He found "the ultimate medicine ball workout" in Men's Health while waiting for a prescription one day. He is on his way to becoming quite chiseled. Basically, I will be washing our clothes on his abs come mid summer. It will do wonders for our electric bill. Anyway, he does a series of "moves." You know, big circles, wood chopper, squat to press, rocky solo, toe touch, 45 degree twist, suitcase crunch, diagonal crunch, standing Russian twist, etc. The "standing Russian twist," that is where all hell broke lose! According to the swore statement by AF, while twisting like a Russian (no this is not a slur I am simply going with the given exercise name as best I can) AF was swinging his arms so passionately for the love of this "move," that he launched the 8 LB. medicine ball directly at exhibit A: My cherry tomato plant. AF claims the ball "slipped" out of his hands while twisting, thus landing in my plant, thus severing one of the cherry tomato plants, thus ending its short blossomless, tomatoeless life.

This is what I found when I happened upon the crime scene (below)

Notice the victim on the far right

After seeing this horror, I confronted AF.
Me: "What happened to my tomato plant? Did something happen when you were outside?"
AF: "Oh, is something wrong? I might have accidentally dropped the medicine ball on it. I thought it was ok though."
Me: "What! Why? How?

That's enough, we don't need to relive this anymore. But seriously ladies and gentleman, does this plant look like a plant that is "OK?" No. If a wrecking ball fell on your head would you be OK! I rest my case.

I admit, I felt sad. Other than this devastating event, my garden has thrived-or at least stayed alive, for over a month. This is a huge achievement and the longest I have kept a plant alive. Yeah...probably don't want me caring for your plants while you are away, or AF and his medicine ball for that matter!

What is the point of this story? There really isn't one. I just thought it was sort of hilarious that my husband smashed my plant with a medicine ball, seriously random. I just thought I would draw this out as long as possible, seeing that I have successful completed this goal, I can probably give it a rest. In all seriousness, AF felt horrible. He asked what he could do to make it up to me, buy me another tomato plant? I said, "No, let's keep this out of court, I'll settle for 5 grand and backrubs for a year."

WHY WEDNESDAY 2?

2009-05-20T03:01:00.000-04:00

MY WEDNESDAY WHYS AT 12:01 AM SHARP.

Why is Walmart like a black hole?
Why do kids NEVER (maybe once a year) sleep in?
Why am I STILL, 2 weeks later, thinking about this (See Why #7).
Why would anyone mail order a husband? I mean a wife I can see, but a husband?
Why do Eggo waffles taste so good?
Why does it seem like I barely get past the starting line in my long list of "to dos" by the end of the day?
Why do I find mom blog swearing so hilarious?
Why does the individual who shall remain nameless (because I don't know his name) who has led worship the last 2 Sundays (luck us-totally sarcastic) refuse to leave any hymn verses out? I don't even think Jesus meant us to sing ALL the verses!
Why does Chris Harrison, the host of the Bachelor/Bachelorette ALWAYS have to announce when it is the last rose? Like everyone is not already staring at that last rose. I mean seriously, how many seasons are we down now? I think we get the freakin' rose ceremony by now.

I would like to take a brief moment to dedicate this last "WHY" to hubs. AF, wherever you are (actually you re laying in bed behind me asleep while I stay up to late typing about you), know that this "WHY" is for you.

Why did hubs have to demolish my cherry tomato plant with a medicine ball? **

**Due the strangeness of this "Why," I feel it is as necessary to explain this "Why" further. See the following post.

"THAT is a BAD idea" Thursdays

2009-05-14T15:21:00.000-04:00

After reading Lindsay Ferrier's blog post over at "Suburban Turmoil." (courtesy of my BFF) I was startled, confused, and concerned. Ferrier's hilarious observations about the current fashion trends pushed me to embark on a small quest of my own for answers. And so "That is a bad idea Thursdays" was born. I wondered, “How many bad trends are out there right now?” Some of my findings were alarming.

For today's post I have chosen to focus on the "Biblike Necklace" for the first ever installment of "That is a bad idea Thursdays."Granted, the adult bib jewelery is not the worst trend I have ever seen, and definitely not even in the same league as the trends Lindsay uncovered. My only hope as that you stumble upon this post and heed my advice before succumbing to one of these “trends” in the name of high fashion.

For the sake of full disclosure I admit that I am in no way a fashion expert and own an obscene amount of yoga pants. I confess I wore a lace up black velvet body suit in the eighth grade and there is documentation in the form of photographs of me wearing the silk shirt vest combo in my youth. I admit I wore overalls in college too. Now that we have that out in the open I would like to share with you some of my findings.

My first source for fashion guidance, Glamour Magazine. Admittedly, there were a number of helpful "Dos" and "Donts" that Glamour had to share. I wish they had chosen not to share with us trends like the "biblike necklace" and "harlem pants" (MC Hammer anyone?) trends.

1. The "Biblike Necklace." First off, any trend that starts with the word "Bib" should probably be avoided unless you are a baby. Glamour tells us that "you may think you DON'T need this trend but you DO." I am telling you, you may think you DON'T need this trend and you are right. Apparently "one of these bad boys will make your trusty old t-shirt and jeans look like a million bucks," according to Glamour. I am here to tell you that if you wear a "biblike necklace" with your trusty t-shirt and jeans you will look stupid. You will not look like a million bucks, you will look like you are half way playing adult dress up. Please DON'T wear this trend with a t shirt to pick up your kids from school. DON'T wear this trend to the grocery store with your favor t either. People will stare and not in a good way. DON'T do this.

THE BIBLIKE NECKLACE (Some recommendations from the "experts")

For $238 this beauty is all yours. (Disclaimer: If you want to wear this large necklace with an outfit that is in the 0.2% of outfits it could actual look ok with, I won't complain. Good luck finding the outfits!)
I just want you to imagine sporting this bad boy in your "trusty casual t shirt" Now unimagine it. Enough said.

A beautiful LARGE coral colored coral looking bib. Only $750.00
Why not look like the coral reef is protruding from your neck? Super comfy I am sure.

A steal! Originally $429.00! Can be yours today for $299.00 I call this Cleopatra meets Mr T.
Go and tour an Egyptian Exhibit at the museum and feel right at home.

Hey, if you're into crystals, why not buy this bad boy for $350.00?
Think of all the energy you could be sending off? Superpowers!

THE SUMMER T.

2009-05-13T11:27:00.000-04:00

I love this shirt.
It says, "CALIFORNIA" all in caps.
I feel like every summer I have a t-shirt that is THE shirt of the season. The shirt that eventually ends up faded, with a bleach spot, and stains from the normal everyday life of a mommy.
The shirt eventually makes its way to the bottom drawer of the dresser transforming into a "sleep shirt."

Why do I love THIS shirt?

I discovered it on the sale rack at Old Navy. What's not to love about a sale?
It was marked "$6.99" which was acceptable, but rang up at $4.99. I loved it even more.
Its a bright and cheery orange. Perfect for summer.

The shirt makes its debut...

I wore the shirt on Thursday to a playdate at my new friend Lilli's house. She originates from California and I think she appreciated the shout out. The shirt now makes me think of new friends.

I wore the shirt the next day. Yes, I wore the exact same outfit unwashed, 2 days in a row-no shame. I wore it to honor my dear friend who is moving to California in 17 days. I think she liked my tribute. The shirt now reminds me of her.

I knew this shirt would be special when I found it on the overflowing sale rack. I even tried to find one or two more so I could share the love. The combination of the jam packed clearance items I was attempting to rifle through, and my 3 year old wildly pushing a stuffed dog in a doll stroller in circles around the sale racks (that is a story for another day) prevented me acquiring additional shirts.

I wanted to find a shirt for Michele to take on her journey to California.
I wanted to find a shirt for Angie.

The shirt made me think of how she lived in California and loved it. I thought of her birthday next week, and how this shirt would make her smile because it will be a tough birthday for her without her grandma. I'll just have to find another way to make her smile.

Basically this IS the shirt of summer. Have you found your shirt yet?

Meet the FIRST "WHY WEDNESDAY?"

2009-05-13T00:56:00.000-04:00

Its Wednesday. Its 12:57 AM, and I am asking myself "WHY are you still awake!" I am restless. Tired for sure-but feeling restless has left me asking lots of "whys" while typing as quickly as I can so I can beat that clock and get to bed before 1:00AM. As if going to bed at 12:59AM will leave me more rested than going to bed at 1:01AM. I think 1:15 is more realistic. I read my bffs "No Not Me Mondays" list, inspired by MckMama, and sat here realizing, by the middle of the week-Wednesday I've got a whole lots of "whys." Wish I could trade them in for some "wise" answers, but oh well. I'll settle for getting all the "whys" out so they are not pounding away in my restless mind. Please join the "WHY" parade. Why, you might ask? Why not?

MY WEDNESDAY WHYS AT 1:00AM:

Why does anyone send their gold through the mail to “Cash4Gold?" Please tell me I am not the only one who has pondered this after this tempting commercial offer. And when you do send in your gold that turns out to be worth $1.34, do they really spend more than that in postage to mail out your “earnings”?

Why do people spend precious time, energy, and money to make beautiful creations and then post these creations on Etsy in blurry, horrible photos?

Why don’t I just call my landlord so he will come out and fix the leaky pipe underneath my sink, instead of emptying the small pool that has gathered in my collection bucket to then replace it for another collection?

Why is coffee on my mind more than water?

Why do people like Adam Lambert on American Idol so much?

Why am I so judgmental?

Why can't I stop thinking about that package of boneless, skinless chicken I trimmed last week that had 2 feathers on it?

Why do I stay up so late?

If we are in the “same boat” as moms, Why don’t more moms know we are rowing together?

a special morning greeting

2009-05-08T21:32:00.000-04:00

My alarm clock

I have not set an alarm clock for a few years now. Who needs to hear that annoying, startling, obnoxious beep or a strange song on the radio that somehow creeps into that dream you are having, when you can wake up to a little voice saying "OK mom, lets do snuggles and cuddles!" While it is super cute to have this face wake me up each morning with a cheery little greeting, I admit that many mornings I am wishing the greeting came at least an hour later.

This morning my 3 year old morning greeter chose a different approach. I started to wake up when I heard the familiar sound of a small set of feet creeping into my room. Instead of her usual proclamation of "snuggles and cuddles," I was met with, "Mommy, I have a surprise for you!" I slowly opened my eyes, curious and concerned at what "a surprise" might entail. There was that smiling, cheery little face with no pajama pants on and a naked butt, standing right next to my bed holding up a single square of toilette paper very proudly. She continued, "Its a little square! For you to wipe my bottom." Lucky me. I could see how proud my little morning person was of herself for taking off her pants, going to the bathroom, and delivering that amazing single square of toilette paper to my bedside. Even though wiping some one's butt is not my idea of the ideal "wake up call," I'll take it today.

Let the rain fall

2009-05-06T13:09:00.000-04:00

I am thinking about rain today. This is the rain on my porch today.

In a reflection from Ginny Owen's about her song "Rain" she writes,

"...in order to experience a loss or walk with someone through their suffering, we must acknowledge and even accept the rain as part of the process.I don’t think that we’re meant to become completely comfortable with rain; if we did, we’d be too intense and melancholy to do anyone—including ourselves–any good. But experience has taught me that it is good to be familiar with rain—respectful of its reality and mindful of its necessity in our lives."

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more later.

Being reminded

2009-05-05T01:00:00.000-04:00

Piles

2009-05-03T00:38:00.000-04:00

I like this. Press play.

Piles. LOTS of piles. A full weeks-plus of throw-up, diarrhea, fevers and sickness has put us a little behind schedule in the "keeping up on things" part of life. Before that it was strep (Happy Easter) and before that ear infections and fevers. So basically April was a blur. It actually sort of blurred together into one giant "sick day." And so the piles I began back in the beginning of April, the "we just moved" and the "unpacking" piles are still in their temporary homes, a month later. Only to be joined by piles of you name it-papers, laundry, items to distribute into other locations, items that need a home and have not yet been given one...etc. Why does it feel like the"we just moved and are still trying to get settled and unpacked" excuse seems to have an unofficial expiration date of 30 days? I feel like it should have a full year until expiration, so I have gone ahead and taken the liberty to renew it for 11 more months.

I have always been a piler. As a child, teen, young adult, college student, full adult-I have always had to pile everything on my bed to clean my room. Its just what I do. I pile everything on the bed, which becomes the mass distribution center. From there I usually form smaller piles on the floor until I am left with a few totally random and annoying items-you know the ones.

I always end up with a pile of papers and mail. I have a perfectly wonderful filing cabinet that is the eventual home of most of my "paper pile," but most of the organized items originate in the pile. I am not ashamed of this piling mentality. Its who I am. I am a piler. In college my roommate/bff and I regularly had a room filled with interesting and not so interesting piles. Random passerbyers often liked to comment on the "situation" especially around the dorm check time of the semester. They often shared blaringly obvious insights-"Wow, you have a lot to pick up..." You think? I will admit that many times the piles became a bit large, but we passed every single one of our dorm checks, unlike some of the neigh-sayers. Eat it dorm check trash talkers! Why? Because we knew how to clean...most of the time! I will admit we at times, had to take drastic measures and form piles in hidden locations to be dealt with later when time was of the essence. But for the most part, we are both excellent cleaners. We may not be the tidiest or most consistent cleaners, but we can clean circles around anyone...when we chose to, of course!

The thing about piles, is that you have to deal with them eventually. Sometimes things pile up, and I think that's ok. Piles happen. Its dealing with those heaps, and how you deal with them that's the important thing. There are certain piles you don't mind taking on. They are quick and easy, you know you can break them down fast...and then there are others that you are constantly putting at the bottom of the list because they feel huge, overwhelming, you get a headache just thinking about going through them. It doesn't matter how nicely you hide them or temporarily store them, because you know they are there. Until the pile is un-piled, it remains a pile.

I was thinking about what that means in my heart and mind. What do I have stored away, piled up that needs to dealt with? I can think of a few things. Sometimes its hard. Because sometimes when you start to go through a pile to sort things out, things get messier before they get better. The great thing is that we have access to the best professional organizer ever! He's even better than that guy on Oprah, Peter Walsh. I am always forgetting that He's (God, not Peter Walsh) pretty good at prioritizing, organizing, and dealing. Why is it so hard to really ask God to help us clean house, to sort through the piles, to deal with the mess?

---------------------------------------------------------------------

I was listening to this Beth Moore videocast the other day, and the speaker was talking about hearing God's voice, and knowing His voice. She was comparing it to how it feels when that person in your life calls you and you just KNOW its them. By the ring, by the way they answer the phone. You just know. But you only know that, because you know them. You have spent time getting to know them, getting familiar with them and their voice.

I think I put God in this little box and then expected Him to do huge things on demand, and when its convenient for me. I don't even know what to say but that, but that.

"Jesus never reacted in anger to sinners who knew they were sinners. He confined his anger for sinners who thought they were somehow exempted from judgment because their particular vices were hidden in their religiosity. It's just not the case; neither is it for us. May we vigilantly guard our hearts! May we constantly come back to the Lord and ask him to wash us clean, make us pure, and make us wise. And may we never lose the simplicity of one heart pouring itself out in love onto its Beloved..." -excerpt from interview with worship leader/song writer Aaron Keyes

Pain

2009-04-05T23:14:00.000-04:00

(This is what I was listening to when I wrote this. Great idea Ang, since I am always listening to someting!)

I am in pain today. I have a throat infection. It hurts so bad to swallow. What started out as a small sore in my throat has slowly crept across my whole throat. It hurts. I even got tested for strep today which came back negative. So, I have been gargling salt water, drinking tea, poppin' advil, and swallowing through the pain. I wanted to write something today about my cute little 3 year old admiring the "daniel lions" in our front yard, but the truth is that I cannot stop thinking about my pain. I know it is mind blowing to imagine me, someone who has insanely been staying up until all hours to get things done to get sick. But I am human. Living in a human body, with human consequences.

I think sometime we feel invincible, especially when things are going good. But sometimes we can crumble so quickly when something painful or unexpected arises. We can become fixated on the pain and it can consume us. I think it is amazing to hear from people who are grown, successful adults, who are STILL holding on to childhood hurts. Clutching the pain fiercely but wanted to be rid of it so badly.

I think we are all dandelions at some point in time. Masking the weeds inside us with a false beauty, trying to blend in with the other flowers out there, but its all a facade. That bright and cheery yellow is sometimes masking deep wounds, sadness and pain.

Isn't funny when we look for every remedy, every validating philosophy, ever "cure" for our own pain instead of just looking to the ultimate pain manager, the ultimate pain alleviator for help? I do it all the time, which is why I am writing this. Because I need to hear it. I need to remember where real relief comes from. The relief is not always immediate, and it can be a process. But in the end its worth it. The real cure.

Seeing

2009-03-26T23:40:00.000-04:00

I got glasses in the middle of college. It was sort of lame. I felt like my eyes were crossing when I tried to read or type. Its possible that my staying up until 3am with my roommate on a regular basis had something to do with it. Within a year of getting my glasses, I lost them. I know exactly where I left them-the Bethel College libary, lower level. When I went back for them, they were gone. Seriously, who steals someones lame reading glasses? I never replaced the glasses to this day. Its a good thing I don't do a lot of reading. Ha! Sometimes I wonder if I would see better if I had some? Sometimes I wish I had a pair of glasses to help me to see things more clearly in this life. Wouldn't it be great if you could get a pair of glasses to help you to really see? To see past things you can't see past, to help you see more clearly the aspect of a situation you just can't comprehend, to see when you are so stressed, tired, confused, and frustrated that you can't see straight.

Yesterday my entourage (Aislynn 3.5, Isla 1.5) discovered Wonderlabs, a cool little children's science museum in downtown Bloomington. The girls loved it. Exploring, discovering, running...it was all good, minus the one time Isla dropped down in the bubble room to do what I thought looked like push ups, instead she was actually interested in licking bubbles off the floor. Her immunity really got a boost after that.

I noticed a little girl. She looked like she was somewhere in between Aislynn and Isla (agewise). Her hair was real fine, it looked like it had thinned. Just as I began to process what that might mean she turned and I saw a huge crescent shaped incision in the back of her head. My heart sank at the implications of such a mark. She was playing right along side my two little girls. They were all doing a lot of the same things, exploring, discovering, running, but it wasn't the same. I wished I had a pair of glasses for that situation...to see why?

I couldn't stop staring at the little girl. Not at her battle wound, but at the little girl herself. My girls had just gotten over being sick. I felt a little worn out after wiping noses constantly and caring for two cranky girls with mood swings and colds. This was a perspective moment. Because to me and this little girl's mom, having a "sick kid" meant two completely different things.

The little girl's mom and I exchanged a few half smiles, the way you do with other moms you don't know in public places. Its like that recognition of rank or something. Instead of a salute, we moms just give a slight nod and a smile to recognize our fellow mom comrades. I noticed she had a very tiny very new baby boy in addition to her little girl. I feel like I have been learning some pretty big lessons over the past year. I feel like I have developed more of an awareness. I am trying to be a more intentional and empathetic person. I wanted to give this mom a big hug. I wanted to say "What can I do? You don't know me, but what can I do?"

Before the museum closed our paths crossed briefly. She asked me about a baby carrier I was wearing. She took down my name and number and revealed she was only in Bloomington for a few months while her daughter received proton treatments for her cancer. I wanted to cry. I wanted to say how sorry I was. I wanted to offer to do something. I wanted to say something but all I could do was give an acknowledging nod to her unfathomable reality. She said she would call because she was really interested in the carrier I was wearing, and I offered her to come over to try on carriers. Secretly, I was hoping this gesture might open a door for me to do something more.

We walked out of the museum and I could not stop thinking of this mom, her little baby, and her sweet little girl battling for her life. I immediately summoned the courage to say what I wanted to say, but didn't. I tried to reenter the museum, but they had locked the doors since the museum was closing. I waited outside, trying to look like I was actually doing something besides pacing back and forth like a museum stalker (I don't actually know if those kinds of stalkers exist). I waited. But they never came out. I had not cased the museum, so I was unaware of other exits. I walked away, scanning the scene, but there was no trace of the mom or her tiny entourage.

I am praying that she calls me. And if she does, I know exactly what I will say, "I know you don't know me, but if you ever need anything, any help, a place to hang out, anything while you are in Bloomington, I'm here for you. I know that may sound strange since you don't know me, but I think I am pretty normal and hopefully you can take my word on that. I am a mom and you are a mom so I think we have something huge in common already." I wish I could have said this when I had the chance. But things seldom work out like we plan and our brains usually think a little more slowly than the current situation we are in sometimes. Hopefully I will get a second chance.

I wish I had some really powerful glasses. A pair that would help me to really see...to see what God sees when He looks at us. To see the most important things in life. To see past the things I get caught up in. To see down the right path. To see what He has in store for us. To see what God sees when he looks at that sweet little girl in the middle of her battle. To see straight. Maybe if I get my glasses replaced, I'll ask for that prescription.

PER·SPEC·TIVE

2008-08-09T00:18:00.000-04:00

"Its all in the eye of the perspective." The wise words of a high school ex-boyfriend. Actually, they are not wise words at all. In fact, they make no sense. I just can't seem to forget Thomas declaring these profound words. I don't even remember what it was in regards to, but I do remember saying, "That makes no sense!" And him replying, "You just don't understand." Now I can't help but laugh whenever I hear the two phrases "It's a matter of perspective" or, "It's all in the eye of the beholder." I came to the conclusion a very long time ago, that I was much smarter than Thomas Yates.

PER·SPEC·TIVE
Pronunciation:\pər-ˈspek-tiv\
Function:noun
Etymology: From Latin perspectus, past participle of perspicere to look through, see clearly, from per- through + specere to look

I was realizing how quickly my perspective had changed when I was feeling extremely irritated the other morning that Aislynn was whining SO much and not handling well, Isla's attempts to interact. Granted, Isla's attempts to interact are more those of a demolition baby than a playmate. But a mom can only take so much whining and hearing the word "no."

I decided it was time for a change of scenery after it became clear that Isla had a one track mind-climb on top of Aislynn and anything she is playing with. Aislynn had a one track mind as well-whine and yell "no!" over and over any time Isla looked in her direction. I decided to move Aislynn up to an elevated level that would be out of the reach of my little climber. I set Aislynn up to paint at the table, "just like in Miss Mouse's Day," she excitedly pointed out. She was very excited, and began painting away. I sighed a sigh of relieve to have a whine free moment. Which was quickly brought to an end by Aislynn whining about Isla grabbing at her (Aislynn's) feet from under the table. Did I say one track mind! Sure enough, Isla had strategically found a way to still get a hold of her big sister from under the table, she was more than happy to at least have a hold of her big sister's foot.

It was at this moment I realized how much my perspective had changed and how I needed to "see more clearly" or "look through" this situation just a little harder. Months ago, I remember waking up and going to bed thinking of activities I could do with Aislynn to help her with expression, and interaction. Instead of looking at the annoyances, I needed to see the lining around this picture. I have a little girl who whines. A little girl who is aware of her surroundings, her sister, and a whole lot more. 7 months ago we thought this little girl might be autistic. And my biggest fear was that she would not be able to express herself to me. Well these days she makes her feeling very clearly known, both good and bad! Including the feeling "Mom no sing." which was declared today in the car as I was forbidden to sing along to any and every song. I still think whining and complaining is unpleasant, but it is an encouraging reminder at how far we have come. Yes, whining can be an encouragement at times. And my littlest peanut Isla, that wants to be into anything and everything as well as on top of everyone-I am so thankful she is healthy, and mobile, and curious. She is full of life and enthusiasm and I can only imagine what she has in store for us.

I am realizing that a different perspective can breath fresh air into a situation. Even situations that are little and you think are easily perceived, and especially situations that are difficult to perceive. And so today I will try to "look through" all the areas of my life and things I am facing both big and small and see what I can see more clearly if I just shift my perspective.

Blueberries

2008-07-14T15:25:00.001-04:00

Today we picked blueberries. The last time I picked blueberries was with my mom and my aunt and I was a child. Blueberry picking takes on a whole new meaning when you are the mom holding one child's hand with another child strapped to your back! I worked hard for my 4 lbs of blueberries we picked today.

Ever summer it is my goal to find somewhere nearby to pick something. I am clearly not that picky since I am open to picking just about anything. This summer was the first time I actually found that somewhere, Tammen Treeberry Farm, to pick something, blueberries. Today was the first day of the season. The farm opened at 8 am. After picking up my little junior high assistant Carly, Aislynn, Isla, Carly, and I arrived at approximately 8:30 at the Treeberry farm. We pulled in and I saw only a few cars parked. I turned to Carly and said, "Great! It doesn't look like that many people are here yet!" Then I saw a sign that said "Blueberries staight back" It was then that I saw the rows of cars, and eventually the rows of people in line waiting to become migrant workers.

The people at the front of the line, needless to say, meant business. They had collapsible stools in hand, special bucket necklaces and knee pads. There were no smiles, only game faces. Of course when I asked the people at the front of the line (which I thought was the back of the line) if that was the back of the line, they were very quick to point me away from where they were standing.

So we waited. I have not stood in a line that long, since riding amusement park rides when I actually had the time or desire to do that sort of thing! More than an hour later, and two baby carriers later with Isla, we were hauled away by the tractor pull to blueberry bush land. Not being professional blueberry pickers and toting two children with us, put us behind everyone. It took us a while to realize that we were basically trailing everyone and getting their "left-overs". There were more than enough blueberries to go around, but we were sort of getting second pick. We also made the mistake or lounging around eating blueberries, when 20 minutes in to our "picking" we realized we had been doing too much "eating" and really had hardly anything in our bucket! The girls did great and Aislynn enjoyed putting the blueberries in the bucket. However, she was a little too undiscriminating and was putting ones off the ground in the bucket, green ones, smashed ones. Her standards were a little too low. She wouldn't cut it as a migrant worker.

After picking about half a pound and already being hot and sweaty with two little girls who were about ready to call it quits, that is when we kicked it in to overdrive finishing off the day with a strong 4lbs. Our bucket only barely half full, looked like nothing compared to everyone elses, one, two, and three buckets full (roughly 10-30 lbs). I have a keen sense for blueberry poundage now.

My goal for our morning of blueberry picking was not to see if we could pick enough to feed our family for the entire year, which was a good thing since we did not come anywhere close to meeting that quota! My goals was to get my little girl to eat a piece of fruit. With Aislynn's food sensory and texture issues, she currently does not eat any, zero, fresh fruit or veggies. And I mean zero. Sometimes in feeding group or at home she'll barely try a piece or something, but it is rare. And for some reason, she really wants nothing to do with fruit, even though it is sweet and yummy, most fruit has very distinct textures and flavors, and she wants no part of it. So I started thinking, maybe if she was totally surrounded by ______ fruit she might just try it in its natural environment. So my biggest goal was to get her to eat a blueberry on her own. She has previously only been open to smashing berries or giving them small kisses.

After Carly and I picked and ate more than the daily recommended antioxidant and fruit intake for the day, Aislynn distributed some berries, "One for Carly, one for mommy, one for Aislynn." We all did a count down, one two, three, and ate our berries, including Aislynn! She gagged a little, but she chewed it up and swallowed and did a small cheer for herself. I was very happy.

Aislynn did not inhale as many berries as I did, but she ate at least 4. I wouldn't say they are her favorite food by any means, but its a baby step in the right direction. All it took was an early morning wake up, a drive, a long wait, a tractor ride, and hundreds of rows of blueberry bushes to get Aislynn to try some fruit. That's not so bad. And definitely worth all 4 hours.

This girl means business...well maybe not, I think she picked like 3 ounces.

Isla was a little confused, since when she fell asleep she was on my front in a carrier in a line of people. It was getting too hot, so I took her out of the carrier and tried to relocate her to the stroller (unsuccessfully). Sho woke right up and was a little confused to now be in the midst of blueberry bushes, clearly a different location!

My sweet little assistant Carly. She earned her blueberries!

Back at home, Aislynn was happy to feed me that handful of berries. "Mommies turn!" she said...somehow Aislynn's turn never came.

Thinking about trying another one. Maybe not.

"Take a try!"

2008-07-12T15:23:00.001-04:00

Aislynn trying some brownie batter

She realized that chocolate wasn't so bad after all.

Friday was Aislynn’s 6 month re-evaluation since being enrolled in the Child and Family Connections program back in January. And again, I am I was reminded of how far we have come.

Our therapists had all completed up to date evaluations of Aislynn and they met along with our service coordinator at our house to discuss Aislynn’s progress and continuation in the program.

Six months ago, Aislynn’s enrollment in her various therapies felt extremely overwhelming. We went from rather unscheduled weeks to feeding group once a week, speech once a week, nutrition twice a month, developmental therapy once a month, not to mention numerous evaluations and the push to get her interacting with other kids her age. Isla was only 2 months old and one high maintenance little baby which made things feel all the more intense.

I remember feeling this sense of urgency. I have never been known for my ability to be patient, and waiting to see Aislynn’s progress in the CFC program seemed unimaginable. I would wake up in the morning thinking of activities and games I could make to help Aislynn with her social skills, taking turns, and language. Any free moment I had to be on the internet, I was hunting for information that I thought might help. Then I would go to bed at night brainstorming more ideas for things to try with Aislynn. I was obsessed! All this, while waking up every few hours to feed a new baby. It really was an exhausting time.

Reflection is important. I was getting frustrated the other day that Aislynn still wouldn't eat fruit. But then I remembered how far we have come. These were Aislynn’s initial “feeding group goals”

1. 1. Aislynn will engage with food not currently in her repertoire

2. 2. Aislynn will bring a non preferred food within close proximity to her face/head/neck.

3. 3. Aislynn will interact with puree with fingers or another food.

4. 4. Aislynn will separate from her parents to tolerate being seated for snack.

Reflection. I remember feeling like there was no way Aislynn was ever going to sit through “snack time” and engage happily with the food and other children. When we first started feeding group, I had to sit in the room so that she would not have a meltdown. And Aislynn was one of the kids that had to be seated next to a therapist in case she had major issues. We have come a long way. Now Aislynn loves snack time. She says “Snack is fun! Friends are fun!” She is the kid that sits at the opposite side of the table from the therapists because they know she’ll do fine. She is usually the happiest, most energetic one there, and most willing to interact with the new foods. She doesn’t even think twice about me not being in the room with her and she now eats things like chicken, eggs, and cheese, which she never would have touched 6 months ago.

6 months ago this was our Social Summary goal: “We want Aislynn to increase her social skills so that she can communicate her wants and needs.” This is a goal she has met over and over again and continues to meet.

“Take a try.” This is one of Aislynn’s favorite phrases. We are always encouraging her to try new things, but we never quite phrased it like that. This phrase is all her. When she wants you to try what she is eating its “Mommy, take a try!” When she wants you to toss the ball to her, “Daddy, take a try!” Every time she says this phrase it makes me smile. One, because she sounds so cute when she says it, and two because she thought it all on her own. “Take a try” from the same little girl who adamantly was against trying all new things.

There are still new things, books, foods, toys, and experiences that Aislynn insists “No try it!” But she usually comes around. Reading is one of those things where Aislynn has her opinions. Many times she has her mind made up before I even open a new book that she does not like it, and of course it becomes the story she wants to read over and over again. Just the other night I tried to read The Runaway Bunny to her before bed. “No run away bunny!” she exclaimed. The next night the same thing happened. She was not about to give these bunnies a chance. Finally, the third night she sat on my lap to read a book before bed, and I quickly whipped out The Runaway Bunny. As she began to protest I hurriedly started reading the book excitedly and I had her hooked. We read the whole thing and when it was finished she said, “Runaway Bunny again?” So we read it again. I put the book on her shelf and tucked her in to bed. In the back of my mind I had a sneaking suspicion that come morning, The Runaway Bunny would find its way into her bed. Lately Aislynn has been waking up in the morning, and bringing books into her bed while she waits for someone to get her up.

Later that night, I checked on Aislynn before I went to bed. And there it was, tucked under her arm at 10:30 PM, The Runaway Bunny-who had clearly run away from the bookshelf a little earlier than I had expected! It made me smile.

I love that Aislynn loves books. I love that she is trying new things. I love that she is growing and developing and expanding her vocabulary. I love that when someone asked her at Starbucks the other day, “What are you eating?” referring to the piece of coffee cake she had, she responded, “I’m eating spaghetti!” and then laughed because she made a joke. These are all experiences that make me smile and encourage and excite me to see what new things she will “take a try” with tomorrow.

By the way, take a wild guess what book has been number one on the bedtime request list for 5 days and counting?

The Runaway Bunny.

Grateful

2008-06-12T01:01:00.000-04:00

Today I am grateful that I have a little girl that likes to run around barefoot, roll around in the grass, run up and down a small hill like it is an amusement park ride, fling the bubble wand around with so much enthusiasm that bubbles truly go in all directions, and sing songs indoors and out with great passion.

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need
And if You never grant us peace

But Jesus, would You please . . .

Last lyrics in the song "Gratitude" by Nichole Nordeman

Puddles aren't for licking

2008-06-11T00:55:00.000-04:00

Living in an apartment building provides some outdoor obstacles we try to combat. While we do have a small hill (very exciting) next to our apartment entrance, we do not have a fenced in yard. Sometimes I dream of the day I can slide the back door open and say, "go out and play," while looking at the kids out the kitchen window. As for now, we will have to be a little more creative in creating outdoor experiences.

We are blessed to have many parks surrounding us. They might actually outnumber the Starbucks! We do make plenty visits to various parks, but that is not quite the same thing as playing in the back yard. There is a tennis court in our complex and a few afternoons I took the girls to the court, and let Aislynn run around in this fenced in green asphalt play pen. We took some balls over the other day and she spent a good amount of time throwing them back and forth over the tennis net. Last week we played a little family tennis I use the term "tennis" extremely loosely, and hit some balls around. And I do mean around, not so much back and forth, since Aislynn confiscated our rackets and balls throughout the "match."

Tennis takes on a whole new meaning when it includes 2 little girls. When we were first married, Andy and I used to go play tennis together, and we would actually break a sweat from our rigorous play. Now I am breaking a sweat from having an 18 LB warm little body on my back while I try to bend over to get the ball. Last night in my overly ambitious state, I suggested we all head over to the court for another family "match". We all put on our tennis shoes and I put on Isla (on my back). I found a little racket for Aislynn, since on our last tennis day, she seemed extremely interested and territorial with our two rackets. Of course now that she had her own racket, the interest was minimal and she soon found gathering up the tennis balls and putting them back in the tube to more exciting. This was only a problem when the balls she wanted to gather up, included the ones we wanted to hit around! However, this problem was soon remedied by her realization that there were a series of small puddles in the court next to ours. We do live in a "luxury" complex you know (at least that's what the sign says), so we have 2 playing courts!

I think children are drawn to water of all kinds. It is like this magnetic force. Besides being totally grose, dirty, germ pools, I think puddles are fun. Aislynn thinks they are even more fun. In her mere 32 months of life she has already made many "puddle memories" some which I encouraged, many which I did not.

The other day I let her stand outside in the rain, holding an umbrella (don't worry, no thunder). She was out there for a good 15 min before I made her come in.
What is it with kids and water? We'll dive into that question on another day! Back at the tennis court, Aislynn did her regular circling of the puddle, like a wild animal and then began to "pounce" quite similarly to a wild animal. Although her "pouncing" involved splashing in hydrogen and oxygen and a little bacteria I am sure. I looked at her happily splashing away, and thought, "what's the harm, she'll take a bath after this and she is conducting experiments! I love it!" First she stomped slowly, then faster, than she ran through it, touched it with her hands. Although none of these things would be ok with many parents, I am not one of those parents. However what happened next, definitely would not be ok with any parents including me. Aislynn quickly bent down and tried to lick the puddle water, "Yuuuuuummmmy!" She exclaimed, she really does drag that word out. I immediately shouted, "NO LICKING THE PUDDLE!" Three words I did not envision myself yelling when I decided to let Aislynn "experience life" in the form of playing in dirty water. She just looked at me almost shocked that this was not considered proper puddle etiquette. And I looked at her almost shocked that my little girl with sensory food issues found it more troubling to lick a piece of pineapple than to lick a dirty puddle.

It only made sense that the next thing she did was sit down right in the largest puddle. As I went to shout my next round of "I thought these puddle rules went without saying" words, I just sighed, realizing her whole back side was completely wet. Might as well let her experience getting wet. I would like to clarify that I do not condone my child sitting in puddles on a regular basis, and I will probably kick myself for letting her do so, since now she will think this is acceptable to do. But on this particular occasion, on this night, in this tennis court, in that outfit, right before a bath, it was ok. And believe me, it didn't stop there, she as practically rolling through the puddles, at which point we decided to reel her in. We felt we had given her more than enough freedom to experience puddles for one day-probably more like an entire year!

Reluctantly, Aislynn left her puddles. Actually leaving these pools of water was such an emotional experience for her that she had started to cry before we escorted her off the court. She looked up at me as we walked away, almost soaked from the waist down, and said "Wipe the eyes?" She was apparently bothered by the water in her eyes from her tears, the other 50 percent of her that was wet, not so much. I wiped her eyes with the corner of my shirt. "Thanks Mom," she said.

Experience Life

2008-06-05T21:11:00.000-04:00

"One way to open your eyes is to ask yourself, "What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again? -Rachel Carson (excerpt from Amanda Blake Soule's book The Creative Family )

Yesterday Aislynn wanted to help me wash the windows. After I had thoroughly sprayed and wiped down both the inside and outside glass on our back door. Aislynn announced, "Aislynn's turn!" Lately when she wants to do something, she simply declares it her turn. Sometimes you let your child be "helpful" even when its not. I gave Aislynn a spray bottle with water and some paper towel, and she went to work. She started out spraying the window and then wiping it with the paper towel, but soon found it was more fun to just use the spray bottle. So much for streak free shine!

It is rare that I turn down Aislynn's offer to "help." And a two year olds assistance is seldom more help than trouble. But I love that she is experiencing new things and exhibiting that desire. Many of the things I love to do around the house are because my mom let me trouble her with my "help." Cooking, sewing, being creative, these are all things my mom let me experience at an early age as I grew to love being in the kitchen, unsuccessfully attempting to sew barbie clothes, and creating more mess than artwork!

Life experience. It doesn't have to start when you are a teen or in college or out on your own. It starts the day you are born. I want to make every day count for my kids and give them as many opportunities and experiences doing and trying new things as they can get their little hands on.

Yesterday I received an email bulletin from "Parent Center," a prominent online parenting source. The title read, "How to raise an imaginative child." That was the featured article. I immediately thought to myself, "Do parents seriously need to be told how to raise imaginative children?" It all comes back to those life experiences. If unimaginative parents provide their children with little experience in exploration, getting messy, discovering new things, and creating; then when those children grow up they will have no imagination and raise unimaginative children. So I will continue to explore, get messy, discover new things, and create right along side my children.

SMILE!

2008-06-05T21:10:00.001-04:00

"Smile! Isla! Isla! Aislynn...Aislynn! AISLYNN SMILE!!!" And this is what I got. Vigorously shaking a tambourine in one hand, camera in the other, I attempted to fulfill once again, my life long dream of taking a cute little picture of sisters, smiling at the camera, holding hands and singing Bible songs. Ok, maybe that's a little over the top. At this point I am half way content to simply get them in a picture together. If they happen to both be looking at the camera by some miracle, I am a little more satisfied.

I love taking pictures. I especially love getting down at eye level with the girls and seeing what they are seeing and capturing them in the moment. Thanks to digital cameras you can now get a half decent picture of your child without having to develop a whole roll of film, hoping that you have one good one in the bunch. Some day my dream is to have something with so many megapixels I don't even know what to do with all of them! For now, my 4 little megapixels will have suffice.

Clean

2008-06-05T16:48:00.000-04:00

It was a sunny day outside. I thought how nice it would be to open the shades and let the light pour in. Since spring no longer exists as a season, and winter seems so dreary, when there's finally one of those blue sky/sunny days-I just want to milk it for all its worth. I pulled the blinds open to reveal an extremely dusty, dirty glass door. I could see out just fine, but things were a little skewed and it was just plain dirty. I grabbed the "green works" spray, some water, and the paper towel ready to get the job done.

After successfully scrubbing the outside of the window I realized my job was not yet complete. I had removed all the dirt, but I could now see that the inside window pane was terribly smudged and dirty as we well. I had to clean both the inside and outside before the window sparkled like new.

There are so many times I am like that window. Its so easy to go through a day and appear nice and clean to everyone around me, like a half washed window, cleaned on the outside. But if people could look inside, they would see the smudges of imperfection and the dirty sin. Thankfully there is someone with something more powerful than a bottle of "green works" to clean up my mess! Jesus is the ultimate washer, cleaner, purifier of every kind of smudge, stain, and dirt. All I have to do is call on Him. It is so simple, and yet in the business and distractions of life, I find myself forgetting this simple truth.

There is nothing like looking out a clean window. Once the light was shining through, I thought, "Why I have I just gotten around to cleaning this window, things looks so much better!" And its the truth, when we let Jesus come in, do a thorough cleaning, things look so much better inside and out.

Jesus is fun

2008-06-04T02:04:00.000-04:00

One of the scariest and most exciting things about being a parent is that you don’t know how the story will end…that journey your child makes from baby to adult. I have a general idea how I want things to turn out for my girls. It is a collaborative effort, which I am already reminding myself of now 13 years early in preparation for the teen years.

I do know I want my girls to be strong, confident virtuous women with a good amount of self esteem who love Jesus. In these early years, I wonder, “What effect does going to church really have on them? When we talk about Jesus or pray before bedtime, does it really make a difference?” Sometimes when Andy says, “Let’s pray, can you pray Aislynn?” Before dinner Aislynn will say, “No pray, no prayer!” I jokingly say sometimes, “Well SHE’S not a Christian.” On the other hand, she does pray for the entire cast of the Mickey Mouse Club House. I think those two balance each other out!

So what does all this mean anyway, these attempts to spiritualize our children? To “expose” them to Jesus?

On the way to feeding group in the midst of our Christian jams, a Ginny Owens song came on. I heard Aislynn sing the first line of the song (she is very musical and has an excellent memory for music we are discovering). “All I want to do is give this life to you, all I want to do is give this life to you…” she sang. The song goes on “Oh all I want to do is give this life to you. And let your will be done. Till it’s all I want to do.” Very powerful words and here is my 2.5 year old singing them. She doesn’t know what they mean but she is saying them out loud. This is what is going in and what is coming out. I prayed in that moment that she would really sing those words one day and mean them in her heart and soul, and truly live them out. A deep moment in the midst of a dreary day.

Back at home, I heard Aislynn pretending with her Little People castle toys. She had the king and the queen out, “It’s the king! It’s the queen!” I heard as I glanced at her from across the room. “King go for a ride? OK lets go for a ride!” It was a very exciting day in this kingdom. She placed the king and queen carefully in the carriage, making sure that they were facing one another. These sorts of things were important in medieval travel. “Close the door!” she exclaimed. She attached the knight to the horse and the horse to the carriage. Off they went (with side effect hoof noise). And then there it was, “Time to go to church. Let’s go to church. Ok!” The king and the queen were going to church. I smiled to myself.

Of all the places the king and queen could go, and we (and they) go a lot of places. Just last week we went to a gymnastics gym, the park, mcdonalds, feeding group, gym class, etc. and the list goes on. And so I asked, “What are the king and queen going to do at church?” “Making music!” she replied. Aislynn gets very excited about worship. I usually go and get her early from the nursery, just so she can hear some worship songs in the service. She has been known to clap enthusiastically at the end of a song and shout “Hooray! Good job!” I know Carlos, our music minister appreciates this affirmation. So then I asked, “What else do we do at church? Do we learn about Jesus?” To which she replied, “Jesus is fun!” Now granted, Aislynn thinks a whole lot of things in life right now are “fun” (we are working on other adjectives); but just hearing this sweet list voice utter those words made me smile again. When was the last time I thought of Jesus as fun? Have I really ever thought of Him that way? And so I learned a little lesson from a little girl with a little imagination. “Jesus is fun.”

One of those days

2008-06-03T21:55:00.000-04:00

Today I woke up thinking, “I could take a nap right now.” An option that ceased to exist September 28, 2005 when I gave birth to Aislynn Rae at an ungodly hour. I would like to wear a t shirt that says, “Take all the naps you can get while you can!” We had feeding group today and just like every other Tuesday we loaded up at 9:30 a.m. (really 9:52) and headed off to Easter Seals. Today’s music selection: a compilation of Christian Slow Jams. We like to change it up a bit. We do everything from Alicia Keys to Jingle Bell Rock, to Onward Christian Soldier. Aislynn usually comments “that’s a pretty song…” or “it’s the piano!” or “No! No! No!” -sometimes she’s not feeling it.

Anyway, we are traveling to feeding group, its rainy, I feel like a robot because I am just tired and sort of in a daze-I know-great advertising for defensive driving! But it’s just one of those days. Its humid, overcast, looks like rain. I feel a little tired and empty and just going through the motions. Sometimes you have those days. Its just one of those days.

We get to feeding group. Water our plants, do some occupational therapy, sing our songs, do the parachute, march to snack, time to eat. Sitting there with Andy and Isla and our friend Carrie (who has a little boy in the group) I think out loud “I wish I could take a nap for like 3 hours!” Carrie agreed that this sounds like a good idea. I’m sitting there on one side of the two way mirror looking in at Aislynn as they go through their repertoire of foods, wanting to just close my eyes.

Number 6 on the list: Dolphin shaped chicken finger. She gobbles it up. Number 7: Tyson chicken strip. She takes a little more time, but she finishes it off. Now Aislynn is looking around for more chicken strips. Now the point of feeding group is not consumption, but getting comfortable interacting with different foods, so they only try a little bit of many different things. A few minutes pass, and one of the feeding therapists looks away for a second as Aislynn swipes the chicken strip from the therapist's plate and starts eating it like it was always hers. Both therapists notice Aislynn has more chicken and are a little puzzled as to where it came from. Now the funny thing about being on the other side of the two way mirror is that we see everything that goes on even when the feeding therapists do not. We are sort of laughing to ourselves.

I sat there thinking, “My child is stealing chicken.” Then I realized the significance of that sentence. Not that she is predisposed to a life of crime as a thief, but that she liked that chicken so much she wanted to steal some more. Almost 5 months ago we started the feeding group. They asked us, “What are your goals? What would you like to see her eat?” I remember says, “We eat so much chicken, I wish she would just eat some chicken, even processed chicken!” Well, today she is eating chicken, she is eating processed chicken, she is eating homemade chicken fingers, she is stealing chicken. So I opened my eyes wide. I was still tired but at the same time awakened to how far we have come, how far she has come. And so it turned into one of those kinds of days.

Peanuts and Pink Nails

2008-05-29T00:19:00.000-04:00

Last week I bought some bright pink nail polish at the store on a grocery run-how easily I wander off task! But when I saw that the 60 sec fast dry nail polish was 50% off, I added it to the list.

Every once in a great while I feel this strange motivation to buy nail polish, though I rarely, hardly ever paint any of my 20 nails. And when I do paint them, I always think "Why did I paint my nails! I am horrible at this!" And I do not have particularly attractive hands or feet-especially the feet. I have been known to be called "clay toes." But that is a story for another day...

So I took my nail polish home and put it in my bathroom where it had the potential to sit a very long time. A few nights later, I was getting Aislynn out of the bath when she noticed the nail polish, "Pink!" she exclaimed. I smiled to hear my little girl's enthusiasm and appreciation for a truly wonderful color. "Yes," I said, "It for painting nails." To which she responded, "Aislynn pink nail?" "Do you want Mommy to paint your nails pink?" "OK." She said, as if it was my idea and she was going along with it. She is sneaky that way.

She held out her little hand and I slowly painted one nail. Since this was her first beautifying experience with nail polish, I thought I had better stick to just one, in case she changed her mind half way through and I was without nail polish remover. Although I had purchased the "60 second" super fast drying polish, this was the first testing of this claim. The nail looked very pink to Aislynn's delight. "One pink nail!" she shouted, holding up her finger triumphantly. She bolted from the bathroom and showed Daddy and Isla her pink nail as well as herself this wonderful sight in a free standing mirror. Throughout the rest of the week she had many opportunities to happily show people her pink nail. I am sure people halfway wondered why she only had one nail painted. Or maybe they just thought she got a hold of the polish-I will admit the paint job was not my finest.

After one full week with just "one pink nail" I decided Aislynn might be ready for the full set. After she showed me her pink nail while drying off from a bath, I asked her if she wanted me to paint more nails. "Ok!" she exclaimed. We sat on the rug in the bathroom and she patiently stretched out her little hands as I attempted to paint just her nail and not her whole finger! As I painted each nail, she pointed to the next and said, "And this one" just in case I happened to skip over it like I did the other nine last time!
Once they were all painted I blew on them to try to help them dry faster. To my amazement, Aislynn did not try to touch them or scrape off the polish. She held her hands still and then up in the air and declared, "Oh that's nice!" Then she bolted from the bathroom ready to go on her "nail show-and-tell tour" throughout the house.

For me, this was about more than pink nails. 5 months ago this could not and would not have happened. If I had tried to paint Aislynn's nail she would have not been happy about it. She would not have sat still at all. If I had tried to explain it to her, she would not, or could not have understood it. If I had tried to just dialogue with her about this seemingly random and unimportant event, there would have been little said or understood. This experience is just another reminder to me how normal things are now and how far we have come. 4 months ago I half wondered if I would ever be able to have a real conversation about anything with my little girl. Today I sat on the bathroom floor and painted my little girl's nails upon her request.

Today I feel grateful for where we are and how far we have come. I feel grateful that I can ask my little girl a question and she can understand it and respond. I feel grateful that my little girl wants me to paint her nails. I feel grateful that tonight, she walked over to the pantry like it was nothing, pointed up to the shelf and said "Peanuts please."

On a personal note...some GOOD NEWS.

2008-03-12T20:43:00.000-04:00

Some of you may be aware that a few months ago we enrolled Aislynn into a "feeding group" to help with her food sensitivity/sensory issues through the Early Intervention State Program. At the same time we had some concerns about her speech and social development. After some developmental evaluations were conducted, it was suggested to us that Aislynn might be exhibiting signs of mild autism, placing her on the Autism Spectrum. At this point a recommendation was made for us to have a developmental diagnostic done by professionals who specialized in early detection of autism. This was a lot for us to take in, especially while dealing with a newborn with her own set of needs. Regardless, we went full force ahead. Aislynn started the feeding group and nutrition, as well as speech therapy and developmental therapy. In addition, Andy and I worked with Aislynn at home as much as we could, focusing on some of the concepts she was struggling with. We got on the waiting list to have a diagnostic completed (a three month wait) and trusted God had His hand on the situation.

I felt like we were at a very critical point where things could go one way or the other. Aislynn's delays might just be that, delays, or they could be signs of mild autism. No matter what the outcome would be, we felt that early intervention was definitely the way to go. As the weeks went by, I really had a piece about the situation. I felt that everything would be alright, no matter what the outcome, but only time would tell.

Over the last few months we have really seen an explosion in Aislynn's speech and social development. She is a very affectionate, smart little girl who has a sense of humor. She loves to read, sing, cook, be thrown around, and chased.These last 12 weeks, I really have felt more and more like Aislynn's issues were/are developmental and not autism.

On Sunday, we went into Chicago to spend the night in preparation for our early appointment at Illinois Masonic in Chicago where Aislynn's diagnostic would be conducted. Monday morning she was evaluated by developmental, speech, and occupational specialists as well as psychologists. They were all in full agreement that Aislynn is NOT autistic and never will be. They said that her speech and social issues are developmental delays and that she should catch up just fine in these areas over time and with help. We were very relieved and encouraged by this news! I was really praying that we would find out one way or another exactly what we were dealing with. If it was autism we would do what we needed to do, but I wanted to know for sure. If it was not autism, I wanted to know what we should be doing to help her catch up. I am so happy that this prayer was answered!

I just wanted to share this good news with all of you and thank you for your prayers and concern throughout this whole situation!

Love,
Brooke

the best news of the year

2008-03-11T01:49:00.001-04:00

"Your daughter does not have autism."

A year ago (A & B)

2008-02-03T01:04:00.000-05:00

A year ago there was no Isla
A year ago there was no Ella
A year ago we were preparing for your new arrival!
A year ago you were trying to convince me to join the 2 baby club (little did we know my membership was doing to begin the following month!)
A year ago we did not know what to expect
A year ago one baby seemed like a lot of work at times (what were we thinking!)
A year ago we did not know the journey that was ahead
A year ago our faith and trust in God was about to be tested
A year ago seems like it was so long ago and yet it has flown by
A year ago we never expected to be where we are today
Stronger.

10 things i hate

2008-02-02T22:03:00.000-05:00

1. static cling
2. chapped lips
3. cuts on the tip of your finger
4. the doodlebops
5. guys that "holla" at the ladies
6. wind chill
7. dry hands and no hand cream
8. breast infections
9. mornings
10. getting in a slow checkout line with a child that is checked out

birther of babies

2008-01-24T13:53:00.000-05:00

1. I am not the average woman.

I have seen many episodes of "Baby Story" that are very similar. However, I have never seen a woman on the show like me. As I entered heavy labor for Isla, I remember shouting, "I don't want to be like one of those women on Baby Story!" And I got my wish, I was not like one of those women, I was weirder.

I was replaying in my mind today some of my "discussion topics" aka things I was shouting while in labor with Isla, and I realized they really did not make any sense. While shouting, "I feel like an alien! I'm an alien! I can't control my body!" is already very strange, it really doesn't make any sense. What do aliens and intense pain have in common? Do aliens feel intense pain? I think what I meant was that I did not feel like myself, therefore, I was an alien. I think for a brief moment in time I experienced what it might feel like to be insane. I will keep that in mind when I think I am losing my mind some days. I'll just remind myself of the whole "alien thing" and then I'll think, "now that's crazy!"

2. I'm pretty cool.

After I delivered Isla without any medical assistance (drugs), I felt like I was the bomb. It was not necessarily my intention to go o-natural, but that is how things played out and I really felt like I deserved an award after pushing a baby out the "old fashioned way". However, I was not biting on a piece of wood at the time like they did in the olden days (I think I saw that on an episode of "little house on the prarie").

3. I really love talking about birth stories!

Today I heard the best story. To sum up what was by far one of my most favorite and amazing birth stories ever, this mom had a doctor delivering her twins (vaginally) that kept falling asleep while she was pushing, she had the narcoleptic doctor and another doctor coming in and out tag teaming, it took two hours for the second twin to be born after she pushed out the first, and the idiot doctor left 1 LB of placenta inside of her, from which she almost died when she returned to the hospital a week later with a serious infection. Now that is a birth story. That makes pushing hard for 11 minutes look like a cake walk. I don't think I will ever look at this woman the same again. She is a true rock star.

4. I think more women need to share their birth stories. It is one thing we as moms all have in common. Maybe I'll start a club...or make a t-shirt.

"Mommy Brain" ???

2008-01-23T02:22:00.000-05:00

Today I left my husband at the grocery store. To make a long story short, his car was in the shop and a coworker dropped him at the grocery store, where I happened to be (since we did not have his house key). As I loaded the groceries into the car, I urged him to go back in to the store for multigrain cheerios (very important item). As he hurried into the store, I drove away. It was not until I was bringing the last bag of groceries into the house and heard the phone ringing that I thought "I bet that is Andy! Who I left at the grocery store!" In a matter of minutes I had totally forgotten that Andy did not have a car, which is why he had met me at the store in the first place. Please keep in mind we live right across the street from the grocery store which should lessen the severity of this story.

This left me wondering...where DID the other half of my brain go? If I figure correctly, I lost 1/4 of it when Aislynn was born, and another 1/4 when Isla was born. SO, now I am left with half a brain. The term "mommy brain" is often used to describe this foggy headed mommy syndrome. However, I did read an article recently (based on a book) where the author suggested that this whole "mommy brain" thing is totally off, and that women actually get smarter after having kids. Well, I am looking forward to the day when that happens! To bad that day was not today.

I would like to say though, that I have come up with a small list of ways I have gotten wiser from baby number one to baby number two. Currently, I have not thought of that many ways as I am working with half a brain here.

Hope

2008-01-23T02:15:00.000-05:00

Hope...
that things will get better
that your child will use the toilette before she goes to college
that your house will stay clean for more than 5 minutes
that one day everyone will take a nap at the same time (including you!)
that someday jeans will feel more comfortable than elastic waist pants (probably not)
that you will find the other half of your brain
that what you are doing now really does matter
that your children will be best friends
that you are a good mom even without a shower
that you will get through the roughest day
that things aren't so hopeless
in the Lord.

"Our problem is not so much that God doesn't give us what we hope for as it is we don't know the right thing for which to hope...Hope is not what you expect."-Max Lucado God Came Near

I love Mondays

2008-01-21T17:36:00.000-05:00

I love Mondays. This is a phrase you will never probably see on a t-shirt in any language, in any country, on any continent. However, if you are looking for a conversation starter, I recommend you get yourself one of these shirts made. Most people dread the weekend to be over as they must return to work bright and early, Monday morning. The reason I love Mondays is actually rather stupid and in no way deep and insightful. It is simply because my favorite show is on from 8-9 which I find to be inspiration for the week ahead. Currently, I am in love with the show, "John and Kate Plus 8." The show follows the life of a real family living in Penn as they raise their three year old sextuplets (that's 6) and twin, seven year old girls. Hence the John (dad) and Kate (mom) plus 8 (children). It should be fairly obvious why I find this show inspirational. When I feel overwhelmed sometimes raising and taking care of my 2 little girls I just think, what if I multiplied them by 4, or what if I had 6 Aislynn's. Whoa. Those thoughts help me shake off the stress and be thankful I have only birthed 2 babies and am not driving a commercial van. While things could always be calmer, cleaner, and quieter, they could also always be crazier, messier, and louder. At the end of one episode of the show, Kate said, "Every day is painfully the same, yet drastically different." I completely agree. Sometimes I feel like I am doing the same thing over and over each day, yet each day is unique and different than the day before. I am learning to embrace the newness of each day, view the monotonousness as consistency, and be thankful I do not have 6 two year olds all at once!

matching pajama pants

2008-01-20T17:16:00.000-05:00

The meeting of my non-biological twin was a very stressful and exciting day. Especially since I did not know that I was meeting my non-biological twin on that day! If someone would have told me, "When you go to college you are going to meet your best friend. You will have tons in common, sometimes lead parallel lives, make similar mistake and triumphs, marry college roommates, work together, have babies at the same time, oh-and by the way-she will be your "randomly selected" freshman year college roommate," I would have never believed it. I think that Angie and my pairing as roommates has to be the most successful match in all of roommate selection history.

There was a survey, a phone call, and then, the infamous introduction. On taking the survey I thought, "I am going to get the left over roommate that I have nothing in common with when we are the last two people left that they have to pair together. Or I will end up with a home schooled missionary kid with a stuffed animal collection." On making the call I thought, "Wow, I am glad she knows what Doc Martins are!" On meeting her I thought, "She looks pretty cool in her Tommy Hilfiger tank and jean shorts. I think she might be normal." I should have known, when we went to bed that night and had matching pajama pants, this was the real thing!

If there is ever a doubt in my mind that God knows what he is doing in my life, or that he has somehow forgotten about me; all I need to do is think about my best friend. I went to college a somewhat unstable girl with an identity crisis. I needed a true friend and confidante. Someone to dance with and share crazy stories. Some one to cry with and share hard times. Someone to kick me in the pants when I was being an idiot and help me see bad choices. Someone to pray with me and encourage me to make good choices. I did not know I needed all of those things when I went to college, but God did, and He decided why not bring a person into my life to be all of those things I needed.

It did not take us long to discover that we were very much non-biological twins simply birthed from different mothers. Hardly anyone believed we were randomly matched college roommates. It seemed like we had known each other our whole lives. Today I realize we will know each other for the rest of our lives. She will always be my best friend. If my daughters ask me someday, "How do I know if she is my best friend?" I will say:

A best friend...
wears matching outfits with you even if they do not find it to be as exciting as you do.
A best friend...
shares clothes with you and teaches you that there are more laundry categories than simply "dark" and "lights."
A best friend...
dances with you at 2a.m.
A best friend...
tells you things you don't want to hear.
A best friend...
lets you color her hair with a marker in class so that you can both stay awake.
A best friend...
keeps your secrets and tells you hers.
A best friend...
lets you sleep with her on your birthday even though thats not her thing.
A best friend...
saves you when you need to be saved.
A best friend...
stays your friend even when she's not sure who you are.
A best friend...
finds you when you are lost.
A best friend...
trusts you even when trust has been broken.
A best friend...
stands up for you on your wedding day.
A best friend...
embarrasses you when she tells your wedding guests you wear men's underwear.
A best friend...
knows you don't have to talk every day to stay friends.
A best friend...
visits you in the hospital when you have your first child.
A best friend...
travels to the opposite end of the globe from you so you can truly rule the world!
A best friend...
dreams big dreams with you and for you.
A best friend...
always tells you what you need to hear.
A best friend...
just knows.
A best friend...
will always be there for you no matter what.
A best friend...
knows that your friendship can withstand anything.
A best friend...
wears matching pajama pants.

a young old woman

2008-01-18T14:23:00.000-05:00

I recently went to the doctor's office to see if my 78 day old baby ( I heard them refer to her as 78 days old when they were checking something with my insurance) had conjunctivitis-aka-pink eye. As I proceeded to the reception counter to check in, the nurse (who looked like she was in her early thirties) gasped, "You look so young!" I did not hear what she said at first as I was bending down to shove back in the pacifier that had popped out. I was sure she must have said something like, "You look so tired!" or, "You look so bad!" Both of which were very true at the moment. I stood back up and said, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" She repeated, "You look SO young!" I didn't quite know how to respond, one, because I do not think I look that young, two, I did not know if she was happy about this declaration or mad, and three, I have never been greeted that way at the doctor's office or anywhere for that matter before. My immediate response was a somewhat defensive, "I'm 27!" I did have to think for a split second to make sure I was in fact 27. The nurse half smiled as she proceeded to pull up my daughter's file. After a couple more typical doctor's office check in questions she laughed, shook her head, and declared once again, "You just look so young!" I wanted to shout back, "WHAT the heck are you talking about! Do you not see the lines starting to form under my eyes and the patch of gray hair sprouting out of my hairline!" Instead I again, somewhat defensively replied, "I also have a two year old (like that some how makes me look older) and a husband, and I had the husband before the babies." I hoped that reciting my stats might age me in her eyes. She just smiled. I went to sit down in the waiting area and thought to myself, "That was weird."
Here are a few reasons I am not That Young:
1. My body has been producing gray hair for 8 years. I now officially have more gray hair than I can remove with tweezers. I try not to look at my face too close in the mirror for fear of discovering even more gray hair.
2. When I hear current rap music as I am flipping through the radio stations I think to myself, "What IS this crap! This is the most pointless song ever."
3. I look at my sister who is currently turning 20 and a college student and think that she and all her friends don't look old enough to drive!
4. I have suffered a serious decrease in brain power. Recently at the store I was asked how old I was and I replied, "28." I did not even realize until I relayed the story to someone later that I am in fact, not 28.

I guess I am a young old woman.