tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88116898777068110382024-03-14T14:48:50.960-04:00Tales from a Stay at Home MomTammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.comBlogger536125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-47767413422366312922015-04-07T07:11:00.002-04:002015-04-07T07:11:53.091-04:00Drunk NoahWhy do my boys have pooping issues?<br />
<br />
Caleb has definitely had his issues in the past and now it is Noah's turn. He usually does okay if he stays on Miralax, but, like any "oops, we were too busy to remember" family, if he happened to miss a day or two, he would immediately stop going.<br />
<br />
I have no idea why. How can one hold in poop and be happy about it? Seriously?<br />
<br />
Recently, Noah got to the point where he had not gone in over two weeks. Yep-two weeks. Can you imagine the size of the poor boy's stomach?! I was even encouraging him to go in his diaper that he wears when he sleeps, just to put him at ease, but nope. He still kept it all in. Miralax was not working, prune juice had no affect-the boy would not go.<br />
<br />
I finally called the pediatrician and without even seeing him, they sent me to Children's. (Something tells me that there is a note on file with our boys' charts that says "bathroom issues" so that they do not even bother to see us when it comes to these matters.)<br />
<br />
Gotta hand it to the doctors and nurses who took our case-that poor nurse eventually saw much more poo than she ever needed to see in her life.<br />
<br />
After exams and x-rays, they decided they would need to stick something up there and "get him going." To make this procedure nicer (I mean, can it ever be "nicer?"), they gave him some medicine to help him relax.<br />
<br />
Oh my goodness, did this kid relax. I had the joy of watching my four year old ramble on like a drunk man. He was playing Minecraft on my Ipad and kept blowing things up without thinking. While he did that, he slurred his words together and kept talking nonsense to me. The best part was that every time he felt more poo coming, he would stand up on the bed to push (because we all stand up to push out poop?) and would need me for balance. At one point, I would holding on to him, while he pushed into the gigantic pull-up that they had put on him, and he started talking in a slow, sing songing type of voice...<br />
<br />
"Mom, what's your favorite color?"<br />
"Um, I would say blue."<br />"Oh...my favorite color is blue...and green...and yellow..."<br />
<br />
Again-this conversation happened while he pushed out poop that may or may not have stayed contained to the pull-up.<br />
<br />
I found myself gagging from the smell, while laughing at my drunk child. I think the fumes were getting to me.<br />
<br />
Eventually, they got him to the point where he had pushed enough out for their liking (or they simply were sick of us being there and wanted to cleanse the entire floor of the stench), and we were able to go home. Drunk Noah stayed with me, even to the point of picking up the kids from school, who found him hilarious. I mean, they have heard him sing songs in the car before, but not quite in that manner of loopiness.<br />
<br />
Now he is so much better and our family knows to stop everything to make sure he gets his Miralax every day. We have also made it a competition to see who can get the bigger poop out at night-Caleb or Noah. They both HAVE to go before bedtime so that these issues do not occur again. <br />
<br />
Yep-it's a party in the Rosenfeldt household every night. "Quick boys! Who's gonna go poop first tonight? How big will it be?"<br />
<br />
Hey, as long as they are going, I will talk about poop every day with my boys.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-15634839964173241632015-01-27T18:21:00.003-05:002015-01-27T18:21:58.872-05:00The Absence Of MollyIf you know our family well, you know our dog, Molly. For those who do not know her story, she was found in a neighborhood about 15 minutes from our house in October 2013. A friend of a friend of a friend found her and thanks to the wonder of social media, we found out about her and took her in.<br />
<br />
You can read past posts about her to see the gory details of her first few days (farts, pooping in the house, wild escapes and runs through the neighborhood after slipping out of her collar), but she eventually calmed down and became a member of the family.<br />
<br />
Over the past year and a half, however, we have come to realize that even though we love Molly, she really needs to be in a better home. She NEEDS to run and we do not have the space nor fenced in yard for her to do so. And we are a family always on the go and we felt like we were always leaving her behind. <br />
<br />
After MUCH thought and discussion as a family, we decided to see if we could find her a new home. I could not just offer her up to facebook friends (because they had seen my posts from her misbehaving days so there was no way she would be in high demand there), but we found an local agency that helps to find homes for dogs. They do not have a shelter, but they display the dogs every weekend at Petsmart. If someone wants to foster or adopt the dog, then they go home with the animal that day. If not, then we pick her up and bring her home until the following weekend, where we start the process all over again.<br />
<br />
No one told me how hard this would be.<br />
<br />
I dropped her off a couple of weeks ago for the first time, having no idea if I would see her again. I literally sobbed on my way out of the store and just sat in the car, crying until I had no more tears. <br />
<br />
No worries, because even though she had "lots of interest," she came back home to us that day.<br />
<br />
The same thing happened the next day, then the next weekend, with it either being me, or Nick, or the whole family leaving her there. It was emotionally draining. Every time we left her there, we had to wonder if this was it. What made it worse is that she knew. As we got near the store, she knew exactly where she was going and not only whimpered, but rested her head on our arms and cuddled as much as a lab mix can cuddle.<br />
<br />
This past Saturday, I dropped her off without tears or lots of emotions because I figured we would be back again later that day. When I actually got the call mid day, saying that someone decided to foster her, I was in shock. A young woman "loved her even though she was being Molly" (guess she developed quite a reputation among the volunteers) and decided to foster her for a week to see how she would fit in her home.<br />
<br />
After I hung up, I started thinking of so many things that this young woman needed to know. I actually called the volunteer back and left a voicemail that said something like, "Molly has some quirks that she should know about...her first night with us she pooped everywhere and farted for hours...it gets better and she doesn't do that anymore...she's super strong and loves to run and will slip out of her harness if you aren't watching...she never uses a crate, but is good in the house all day, but will eat or chew certain things if she has the chance...she is used to sleeping on the couch...if she has any questions or concerns she can call me...will we have a chance to say good-bye?"<br />
<br />
I have no idea why the volunteer never called me back. Hmm.<br />
<br />
I never realized how much her absence would affect us. When someone knocks on the door, she is not here to bark. When I am cooking dinner, she is not at my feet, pleading for me to drop something. Nick and I no longer have to play "not it" for who takes her out at night before we head up to bed. I can bring groceries into the house without worrying she will escape out the front door.<br />
<br />
Okay, so those are things I can easily live without. <br />
<br />
She is not here to cuddle up next to on the couch. She is not here to stare at the door at the same time every day, when she knows the kids will walk in the door from school. My kitchen floor is a mess because she is not here to lick up the crumbs. <br />
<br />
I find myself thinking about her all the time. I wonder what she is thinking. Is she mad at us? Does she feel deserted? Betrayed? Lonely? Who is this stranger who is taking care of our dog? Is she nice? Caring? Patient? Is Molly waiting every day for us to come back to her? Has she escaped and is lost somewhere? What kind of food is she eating? This stranger doesn't know her routine. <br />
<br />
My heart hurts.<br />
<br />
I know. I know. We decided to do this-for HER benefit. We want her to be happy. I just want to know that she IS happy or will be someday soon. I want to explain to her that it is not something she did wrong (well, she could have avoided ruining my bathroom door frame, but that is for another discussion), but that we love her so much that we want her to have a better place to run free.<br />
<br />
Who knows? Perhaps she will show her true colors and frighten this young woman into thinking she was crazy for even considering taking in Molly. If that happens, then we are at a crossroads. Do we continue this routine and submit her to more change? Or do we change our minds and keep her?<br />
<br />
I miss her. <br />
<br />
<br />Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-85861029190838469162015-01-07T10:16:00.000-05:002015-01-07T10:16:16.637-05:00ResolutionsAnother new year and another pile of resolutions and goals to set for the year.<br />
<br />
I'm thinking that "writing more" should probably be at the top of the list, eh?<br />
<br />
Okay, so #1-Be more consistent with writing. Which means less Netflix and less excuses. Which means I should go turn the tv off now while I am typing this.<br />
<br />
#2-Eat healthy. So perhaps eating candy from the kids' stash while they are at school might not be the best idea? Hmm.<br />
<br />
My mind is often scattered and overwhelmed with what I need to accomplish so #3-Make a scheduled to do list and actually do it when it's scheduled. So that does mean I should schedule when to watch Netflix and eat candy?<br />
<br />
#4-Go the gym more often. Done-I go all the time. Oh wait-not just for socialization? I am wearing yoga pants while chatting with friends so that counts, right?<br />
<br />
#5 Have more patience with my kids. So, raising my voice at Caleb this morning because he was complaining about his coat being "too thick to throw a football in" was not the best way to send him out into the world of learning? But, surely rolling my eyes at Abby's latest emotional breakdown and getting frustrated with Noah pooping in his underwear was justified.<br />
<br />
Hmm...only five resolutions in and it looks like 2015 is going to be a delightful year. By this time next year, I will have my college body back and my kids will be perfectly behaved and loved.<br />
<br />
Or maybe I should just do what most people do-make a resolution to not make any more resolutions.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-52454470189194651812014-11-15T09:30:00.000-05:002014-11-15T09:30:16.233-05:00My 8 Year Old Caleb <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgatB3PNqtDYFY2M0DQk5gNcI1z8pqxogsNFLDq44RGZrkLldgGQw7xkXY0n56Oc-dQfdUkQHnKxjN6fxyQudW6wIVPHWzK87WHuBZdfLG8lmt3QAOncKbm2MN-Qoc5GGoBcEsILQS5l6Iv/s1600/10606272_10153239217994418_4350495534860958843_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgatB3PNqtDYFY2M0DQk5gNcI1z8pqxogsNFLDq44RGZrkLldgGQw7xkXY0n56Oc-dQfdUkQHnKxjN6fxyQudW6wIVPHWzK87WHuBZdfLG8lmt3QAOncKbm2MN-Qoc5GGoBcEsILQS5l6Iv/s1600/10606272_10153239217994418_4350495534860958843_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
So, this kid is now eight years old. And this is how he spent his 8th birthday. Because all eight-year old boys want to spend their birthday in a tux. Walking down the aisle with a bunch of people staring at him. <br />
<br />
See why he looks so thrilled?<br />
<br />
Perhaps this picture does not reflect a happy kid, but Caleb actually is pretty happy. He laughs a lot, loves his friends and usually us, and has grown up a lot this past year.<br />
<br />
I suppose having the "summer of Caleb" with time at the hospital and a surgery will do that to anyone.<br />
<br />
What I am most proud of these days has been his attitude on the soccer field. He played on a team full of interesting boys-some were older (like him) and knew what was going on, but most of them were younger and kind of clueless. It's just how rec soccer works-you take boys between the age of "just turning six" and then Caleb's age, put them together and hope for the best.<br />
<br />
Well, for a season of mostly losses, Caleb never cried or complained. He was frustrated, but kept up a good attitude for his team. I watched him "coach" some of the younger guys, reminding them where to go. He did not yell when they made mistakes. He just kept working hard and played better than I have ever seen him play. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi17WjRQ-ORVyrVq8YBgE3BciyOgVkGM6BiTNNrzI8hCv3aAGsIcsjZMGa89_gRzCqGPUij4xBTKJTHCjfdXp2YJz0ENF39pbRQU-ibMmC3tCYKj6Fo3LwOF3aOHQnGX5PlZIZB0-J5HQL3/s1600/DSC_0534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi17WjRQ-ORVyrVq8YBgE3BciyOgVkGM6BiTNNrzI8hCv3aAGsIcsjZMGa89_gRzCqGPUij4xBTKJTHCjfdXp2YJz0ENF39pbRQU-ibMmC3tCYKj6Fo3LwOF3aOHQnGX5PlZIZB0-J5HQL3/s1600/DSC_0534.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
Some of the other parents saw this and gave him a special trophy for being such a good leader and player on the team. Yes, I teared up when they gave him this. To see my boy who cried with every loss when he was four years old go to this little man who is a leader-well, I am tearing up again.<br />
<br />
Caleb, I love you and am so proud of who you are growing up to be. You are smart and talented, but most importantly, you are kind. Not just to your friends, but to those who are not always the easiest to be kind to. Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-37500623872729919182014-09-11T08:29:00.001-04:002020-12-25T21:55:14.026-05:00The FreedomSo...school started.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ay7-8RB5oEv9Ygeh7F6KsGeA_Mz2gYo2HKG3PY7px5d3CcEd1lR5RI1dSAaiymIx2nH7lHJtGgURA2pR5_tBcDDxlhWXJUUy9I9OCGPsoCITMKupQk4koT2tb2LG5TYYn6RqZ5mJkedc/s1600/DSC_0233.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ay7-8RB5oEv9Ygeh7F6KsGeA_Mz2gYo2HKG3PY7px5d3CcEd1lR5RI1dSAaiymIx2nH7lHJtGgURA2pR5_tBcDDxlhWXJUUy9I9OCGPsoCITMKupQk4koT2tb2LG5TYYn6RqZ5mJkedc/s1600/DSC_0233.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
<br />
Noah is now in preschool five mornings a week. Everyone told me that I would feel sad and would cry at the first drop off.<br />
<br />
Um, I must be an awful mom considering I have yet to feel sad or cry. Instead, I have felt freedom.<br />
<br />
Yes, I admit, it was kind of strange to leave him the first day, but considering he just went in and could not care less that I was leaving, that kind of made it easier. Apparently, I have raised a confident boy who feels safe and trusts that I will return, so that's something.<br />
<br />
I think my feeling of freedom is bigger than my feeling of sadness because I have not experienced this freedom in TEN years. Ten. Years. I am now going to the gym-alone. To the post office-alone. To the grocery store-alone. <br />
<br />
Oh, the grocery store. I can now walk in, buy only what is on my list (including chocolate that NO ONE will know exists in the house but me) and not stop at the bakery for a cookie or ask the cashier for a sticker. Do I want to use a regular cart? A small cart? Carry a basket? Sure-does not matter because I am not pushing a huge cart that has a car at the front, that takes out customers left and right.<br />
<br />
As someone who works from home, I am able to call customers and team members without a little (and loud) voice interrupting with comments like, "I pooped in my underwear, Mom." I am finding myself more organized and doing things like cleaning the house and actually putting away a basket of clean laundry. <br />
<br />
While I am enjoying this new found freedom, I have to admit-the best part of my day is when I pick him up and he gives me that smile and runs into my arms. I know it is a very short time when he thinks of me as his hero and runs to me with joy. Perhaps the freedom we are both having is making us appreciate each other just a little bit more. Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-88478015659320874082014-09-09T20:27:00.002-04:002014-09-09T20:27:24.880-04:00The Summer Of CalebUm, yes-I am still here, raising my three crazy children. I have all sorts of stories and thoughts to share with you all, but somehow never seemed to find the time to write it all down. I could blame my lack of time on a busy summer, school starting up, and sports galore, but since I somehow found the time to watch the entire series of Chuck (love that show, by the way), my excuses are just not legit.<br />
<br />
So, lots of fun stories from the summer, but a lot of it was all about Caleb.<br />
<br />
It started in June, when he was complaining of side pain. I took him to the pediatrician, concerned that it might be his appendix. She thought it might be that, but was also worried about his kidneys and sent us to the ER at Children's. HOURS later, they still could not figure out what was going on and admitted us at 1:00 a.m.<br />
<br />
Yes-a.m. Hours of being in the ER with a boy who felt terrible, with no idea of the cause.<br />
<br />
Days and numerous tests later, they found out that he had a kidney infection. The proper meds starting helping and he was finally able to go home. We eventually learned that he had a blockage in his urethra, which caused the infection and which explained a lot of symptoms that he has had for years. Apparently, he was born with the blockage and we are lucky to find it-some babies die before birth or right after because of this, so we are considering ourselves blessed to catch it when we did.<br />
<br />
Flash forward to July and Caleb had his surgery to remove the blockage. We were told it was an in and out procedure and that he would go home the same day.<br />
<br />
Um, never believe that line.<br />
<br />
His surgery went well, but then they decided to keep him overnight and take the tube out in the morning.<br />
<br />
Sure-it's not like I was leaving the next morning for a conference or anything. Oh wait-I was.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, Nick was awesome and spent the night with him, family and friends came to the rescue with childcare and as I drove to Columbus for the conference, I received the best phone call ever-I was informed that Caleb peed and pooped and was allowed to leave the hospital.<br />
<br />
If you are not a parent, let me explain that so much good news depends on your child's ability to have bowel movements.<br />
<br />
Had the follow up in August and everything looks good. He still has to follow up with the urologist for, well, forever, but thankfully all is well for now.<br />
<br />
I learned three things from the summer of Caleb...<br />
<br />
1-Child Life Specialists are the most amazing people in the world. I love that job. The specialist that we had was wonderful and kept Caleb at ease during the most awkward and uncomfortable procedures for a little boy.<br />
<br />
2-The Ronald McDonald House is a huge blessing. We did not stay there (as Children's was a half hour from our house), but after staying numerous nights in the hospital and paying for hospital food, I realized how awful that would be for people coming in from out of town. I am so thankful to work for a company who supports the RM House.<br />
<br />
3-We are not promised the next day. My kids might all be healthy right now, but there is no guarantee that it will always be that way. There is no "whew, we made it through the crucial time" with kids. Every day that my kids wake up and live a healthy day is a blessing.<br />
<br />
More to come on our summer that was not about Caleb (but, honestly, most of it did revolve around him) and what is going on this fall. I promise to keep you all entertained with stories of my three crazy blessings.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-33494660822084223362014-04-22T09:15:00.000-04:002014-04-22T09:15:18.240-04:00Molly's Easter FeastIt started with the Easter candy.<br />
<br />
Abby had her basket in her room, but wisely shut the door before we left for church on Sunday morning. We came home, changed and left again for dinner with the family. The door was left open.<br />
<br />
Molly, being the wise dog that she is, found the basket while we were away. We came home to discover the basket empty-which means she ate about 8 little eggs, a chocolate bunny, 2 marshmallow bunnies, and a pack of gum. An entire pack of gum.<br />
<br />
Fine, Molly. Good luck with that.<br />
<br />
Oh, but wait. It gets better.<br />
<br />
The next day, we went out for a few hours to see a movie with the kids. I specifically moved the little bags of candy that the kids got from the family dinner further up on the counter, high enough away that she would never reach them.<br />
<br />
Or so I thought.<br />
<br />
We came home, saw wrappers all over the house and saw Molly hiding in shame. I walked into the kitchen and found even more horror. <br />
<br />
Two plastic containers were turned upside down on the kitchen floor, lids popped open, completely empty. The contents that were missing? Pepperoni puffs and chocolate chip cookies.<br />
<br />
So, let us take a final count. Easter chocolate, more Easter chocolate, pepperoni puffs, and chocolate chip cookies. All within two days.<br />
<br />
Molly acted fine. She had boundless amounts of energy (who wouldn't, after that much sugar?) and was having normal bathroom breaks.<br />
<br />
Well, last night it finally caught up with her. <br />
<br />
It started with the smelly farts. We kept taking her out and she finally had diarrhea (yes, I am sure that you all want to know that). I went to bed, but as I was falling asleep, I heard Nick express concern (that is my polite way of saying it) that he found poo in the loft. <br />
<br />
I love how she never just has an accident. It is multiple accidents. Sprinkled all over the place with love. So kind of her.<br />
<br />
I cleaned it up the best that I could, considering that we were out of carpet cleaner. Then we discovered another accident. A lot of her special treats all through the downstairs bathroom. Thankfully it is tile. Except for the small cream colored rug. Which is where she decided to leave the biggest deposits. <br />
<br />
Finally cleaned everything up, took Molly out where she threw up and went again (oh, and slipped out of her collar and took off until we cornered her a few houses down), finally went to bed and Molly eventually followed us. After the second fart woke us from our sleep, we took her out. While walking back upstairs, I thought I noticed something on the living room floor. I turned on the light and low and behold-more poop. Lots of it. On my cream colored carpet.<br />
<br />
FYI-when you have kids and a dog, never have cream colored carpet. Never. Just don't do it. Please.<br />
<br />
So, around midnight, Nick drove to Kroger to get carpet cleaner and we attacked the floor the best that we could. Then we put Molly in the downstairs bathroom and attempted to go to sleep.<br />
<br />
Apparently, Molly did not agree with our decision. She barked. And barked. And barked.<br />
<br />
There was not kind language coming from our mouths last night. There was discussion of how smart Molly's former owners were by letting her run away and how it would not be the worst thing in the world if the chocolate did her in.<br />
<br />
I am not proud of it, but I challenge anyone to have a positive attitude at this point in the story.<br />
<br />
Many attempts were made to sleep last night. Every time we thought it was over, she would start again. I think at some point she stopped. Either that, or I just gave up and was in denial and slept through her yapping.<br />
<br />
So, here we are this morning. Constant trips outside for her, while the carpet cleaners are coming this afternoon. The carpet guy was laughing at me on the phone. You are hilarious, carpet guy. Hilarious.<br />
<br />
Oh, and just to clarify-Molly devoured her breakfast and is still following Noah around for possible crumbs. Unbelievable. <br />
<br />
<br />Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-11066403406373737552014-04-19T20:40:00.000-04:002014-04-19T20:40:09.644-04:00CelebrationI was all set to go on my Leadership Retreat. I had paid for it months in advance, had my carpooling system set up and had everything prepared for the family while I would be gone for the weekend.<br />
<br />
Then I got the call. My grandpa passed away.<br />
<br />
We knew it was coming, but it happened more quickly than we expected. I suppose that is often the case-no one is ever really ready for such a thing to happen.<br />
<br />
My grandpa had been sick for awhile and knew his time was almost up. Instead of being afraid or in denial, he knew where he was going and made sure that everyone heard one last "I love you." Every holiday in the past year was extra special, with our thoughts on "is this the last one he will attend?" As it turned out, this past Christmas was his last. I remember saying good-bye to him and having that gut feeling that it would be the last time I would talk with him this side of Heaven.<br />
<br />
Right before he passed away, he was in his chair in his living room, with his daughters and wife by his side. They all talked with him and said that it was okay to go and to say hello to David (my cousin, who left this world too early twelve years ago). <br />
<br />
How many people get that? To be home, surrounded by loved ones, being told that it is okay to move on? To know with certainty that he was about to see Jesus and leave his old and tired body behind?<br />
<br />
After much discussion and not knowing when the funeral would occur, I still went on my retreat. Halfway to Tennessee, I got the call that the calling hours would be that Sunday. Here is where I am simply amazed and blessed by the people in my life. The girls that I rode down with got up that Sunday morning at 5am to get me to the Knoxville airport on time, missing the rest of our training. My husband drove to Akron with all of the kids and the dog to pick me up and continue on to PA for the calling hours. And all of this done with patience and understanding.<br />
<br />
While I was in Tennessee, I had a room with a beautiful view of the mountains. As I stood there for the first time, admiring the view, I thought, "This is absolutely nothing compared to what my grandpa is seeing right now."<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPcH-LC_QhoSHZA8AUEG2UGieQ6TVtK8tspkzYMdiOAL48a2n83T9XglVPFq4hIqU869bYThq2P2Kp-NjLReGBG7pP0fiUDkS8xuQBzFz-DFK-eJr7fb06ZeVfs5nxYs7CcUiz3UQ-lj3/s1600/1972321_10152260329820396_844292603_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPcH-LC_QhoSHZA8AUEG2UGieQ6TVtK8tspkzYMdiOAL48a2n83T9XglVPFq4hIqU869bYThq2P2Kp-NjLReGBG7pP0fiUDkS8xuQBzFz-DFK-eJr7fb06ZeVfs5nxYs7CcUiz3UQ-lj3/s1600/1972321_10152260329820396_844292603_n.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
He is with Jesus. This is not the end and we will see him again. Where there are no more tears nor sadness. All because of what was done so many years ago on the cross.<br />
<br />
My family will be celebrating Jesus' resurrection tomorrow on Easter Sunday. While this is one of my favorite days of the year, it is tiny compared to the celebration that awaits us in Heaven. And my grandpa is already there, waiting for us to join him.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-42388690170667157652014-04-15T10:12:00.001-04:002014-04-15T10:12:43.391-04:00Hello WorldUh, yep. I completely fell off the face of the blogging world, lately. Funny thing is, I have all of these thoughts swirling around in my head, with the continual thought of "I need to write about that" in the background.<br />
<br />
Yet, here I sit, months later, attempting to remember all of those memorable moments that I found worthy of print. Now, where to start?<br />
<br />
Today's post will be about me. Not my kids and their schedules, not my husband and his teaching/coaching life, not the dog and her need to chew things-but, just about me.<br />
<br />
I have been feeling restless. The long winter has made me long for spring and the ability to stay outside for hours. This past weekend was amazing-soccer all day for two days and it reached the 80's. The 80's, people. <br />
<br />
Today, there is snow on the ground. I really don't like Ohio sometimes.<br />
<br />
It is more than the cold weather that is making me feel restless. I have been feeling this way about how I look. I have always felt pretty confident in who I am and try not to compare myself to other women (okay, so we all compare, but I really <i>try </i>not to do it often). Lately, though, I have felt my age and suddenly have realized I am <i>not </i>22 anymore.<br />
<br />
Yes, I have been married for 12 years and have 3 kids, but I still feel like I am still in college. Go ahead and laugh, people who are younger than me. Your time will come.<br />
<br />
Well, the strand of gray hair that keeps appearing on the top of my head tells a different story. And the fact that every cookie or piece of bread (ah, bread) that I eat does NOT go away anymore, but permanently stays in my mid section is really quite frustrating. Do not even get me started on how much weight I gained after eating my yearly treat of Daffins chocolate.<br />
<br />
It used to be that I could blame the extra padding on just having a baby, but now that my "baby" is 3 1/2 years old, I have to accept responsibility and change my routine. I can no longer eat what I want, I have to exercise consistently and I have to learn self-control.<br />
<br />
Being a woman approaching her 40s is not all it is cracked up to be. Unless you are a celebrity and have a personal trainer and chef. Which I am not.<br />
<br />
I now understand why so many of my friends are suddenly running marathons.<br />
<br />
I am also trying to find balance. Ugh-even hearing my spoiled western self say I need "balance" makes me angry. Poor me-I have to balance my healthy children's sports schedules and homework while my loving husband works two jobs to provide for us. I have a job that I love that is flexible so that I do not miss the important things, yet I need to find balance.<br />
<br />
Yep-never mind. I need to maintain the chaos. That sounds better.<br />
<br />
So, this "cookie denying, exercising more, maintaining chaos" mom will have more thoughts coming your way soon.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-66457109102439853622014-02-20T06:50:00.001-05:002014-02-20T06:50:54.357-05:00Speech MeetsMy kids had an assignment for school to give a speech. They had to pick either a poem or a Bible passage (both from a page of suggestions to pick from), memorize it and then present it to their class. After that, each class would select two students for a Bible verse and two students for a poem to go to the speech meet that our school hosts next month.<br />
<br />
As much as I would love to see my kids participate in the speech meet (yes, I was one of those awesomely cool kids who proudly went to a speech meet from time to time in high school), I did not pressure them or keep talking about the meet. I just wanted them to do their best.<br />
<br />
And, quite honestly, Abby has a basketball tournament that same day so it REALLY was okay with me if they were not chosen.<br />
<br />
Now I expected my over-achiever Abby to work hard and want to be selected. Caleb, on the other hand-he is so smart, but because of that, does not always try very hard. So I was very surprised when, during the last couple of days before the speech, he suddenly wanted to practice and work hard.<br />
<br />
The day of the speech, he wanted to get up early to practice (I don't blame him-I wake up early every day because it is the only time the house is quiet enough to think). My Caleb, who I have to drag out of bed every morning (except for the weekend, when he miraculously bounds into my room at 7am) was up at 6:20 am to practice his speech.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgciUnXAT63BvQQpqPVzPnJyz8I0wtphsWRIufEyVfwlsohGl1xDVqB8QESAIPRTvvvId-4riDfnagGF-IVry9vklbHQms_GuYEgMAet1o-GJqJRuAjBoIJ1XEa6IuckaJDjFvGtu5HciMG/s1600/1661269_10152235972730396_120569817_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgciUnXAT63BvQQpqPVzPnJyz8I0wtphsWRIufEyVfwlsohGl1xDVqB8QESAIPRTvvvId-4riDfnagGF-IVry9vklbHQms_GuYEgMAet1o-GJqJRuAjBoIJ1XEa6IuckaJDjFvGtu5HciMG/s1600/1661269_10152235972730396_120569817_n.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I know. Amazing.<br />
<br />
Came to learn AFTER he left that the speech was to be delivered the next day. I wrote it down for the wrong date.<br />
<br />
No problem-he wanted to wake up early the next day, just to make sure he was ready.<br />
<br />
I went to the school that afternoon for the Valentine's Day party and before I left, his teacher gave me the letter that said he was selected for the speech meet. When I told him about it, the look on his face was precious. My middle child was so excited and proud that it brought tears to my eyes. For once, it was all about him and not something "his sister had already done before."<br />
<br />
I later found out that he had told his dad on the way to school that day that he really wanted to make the speech meet and was going to do it. Well then-I guess he had made up his mind.<br />
<br />
Now, for my over-achiever daughter, whose speech was not given until two days ago (her teacher had to go out of town and then fell ill, so they finally gave their speeches to their sub). She knew her speech forwards and backwards (after all, she had an extra week to know it), delivered it with humor and expression, but did not make the cut. <br />
<br />
Here is where I am proud of her and embarrassed by my thoughts.<br />
<br />
She told me that she did not make it, but did not cry or complain. She said her friends told her that they could not believe she did not get it, since she had everyone laughing with her speech, but she was happy for her friends that did make it. Outwardly, I told her how proud of her I was and how she is so blessed to be able to play select soccer and be in higher reading and math classes and that it is nice when other kids get to be a part of things instead of her, to which she agreed.<br />
<br />
Now, here is what my sinful, mama bear mind was actually thinking...<br />
<br />
Are you kidding me? I cannot imagine someone reading a speech better than my daughter. And one of the winners forgot her lines and had to start over? I wonder who would have been selected if the teacher was actually there. <br />
<br />
Yep-not proud of it, but I think every mom can understand my feelings. <br />
<br />
I have watched my kids play enough sports to know that they learn and grow more from the games that they lose than the ones that they win. They need to not always get everything and win everything and be the best at everything. But, as a parent...wow. It hurts to see them disappointed, especially when I know how hard they worked at something.<br />
<br />
My kids are currently 9, 7, and 3. Something tells me that I have many years ahead of me of heartbreak. And, thankfully, joy.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-18691237472661836532014-02-10T08:14:00.000-05:002014-02-10T08:14:17.919-05:00First 20 Minutes Of The DayI woke up today with the full intention of letting Abby sleep in. After all, she was still crying herself to sleep after 11 last night when I finally gave up and went to bed myself. The poor girl kept having stomach pains off and on and could not fall asleep. I arranged for my carpool savior to take in, realized I would be missing the gym and we would have to scrap together food for the rest of the day since I was planning on grocery shopping.<br />
<br />
7:02 am, Abby comes downstairs to breakfast, all smiles and ready to start her day. Seriously?<br />
<br />
I called my carpool friend and said I would take in. <br />
<br />
As Nick was leaving for work, our neighbor was stuck in the snow. For some reason, in the middle of the cul-de-sac, there was a huge mound of snow, that could not be seen in the early morning. Rather than watch our pregnant friend try to dig herself out, Nick took over and got her out, while I stood there with a shovel, thinking I could contribute.<br />
<br />
With the crisis averted, I went back into the house and starting packing lunches, my gym bag and made arrangements with another carpool friend/neighbor about how the afternoon was going to work.<br />
<br />
As I was on the phone with her, I heard a huge crash. All three kids were at the table and the dog was (of course) by Noah's feet, waiting for crumbs.<br />
<br />
The crash was caused by the following...<br />
<br />
...for no reason whatsoever, the shelf in my downstairs bathroom fell. It just fell. No slamming of doors or something bumping it. Not only did it fall (dropping the candle that rested on it), but it crashed into the towel rack, causing that to completely bust and fall to the floor. <br />
<br />
Seriously?<br />
<br />
I quickly closed the bathroom door to ignore that for the time being and went back to packing lunches. Then I heard a little voice saying, "Mommy, I feel sick again" followed by tears.<br />
<br />
Called my carpool friend (again) and arranged for her to pick up Caleb. <br />
<br />
I put the crying child back into bed, got Caleb ready for school (I think I finished packing his lunch) and eventually got Noah dressed.<br />
<br />
By then it was 7:20 am. <br />
<br />
The day can only get better, right?Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-59874624778882585682014-02-06T11:44:00.001-05:002014-02-06T11:44:51.586-05:00AddictionsI have an addictive personality. <br />
<br />
For as long as I can remember, I have been a nail biter. Do I want ugly nails and the occasional sore from biting too far? No. Have I tried to stop? Yes. Yet, here I type, with no long nails getting in my way.<br />
<br />
I have the same problem with chocolate. Chocolate and I go way back, starting with my love affair with Daffins chocolate (my hometown friends know the truth of which I speak). If I go a day without some kind of chocolate, I start to get the shakes.<br />
<br />
Maybe this is why I am known for my chocolate chip cookies. Hmm.<br />
<br />
I am extremely thankful that my addictive personality has never gone down the road of drugs and alcohol-I know that I am ridiculously lucky to not be one of those who struggle with such temptations. Because I understand the loss of willpower, I have compassion on those who continue to struggle with those demons.<br />
<br />
Because of my personality, I really should not be surprised that my children have their own addictions. All three of them seem to have an addiction to electronics.<br />
<br />
Okay, so they are probably like every other child their age in this culture, but I am noticing it more these days. <br />
<br />
I blame the snow days.<br />
<br />
Abby is not as bad as the boys, but the moment her ipod touch dings with a text or someone is trying to face time her, she feels the need to immediately run to it and answer her friends.<br />
<br />
And why shouldn't she? I do the same thing with my phone, right?<br />
<br />
The boys. Oh, the boys. Caleb not only asks EVERY DAY for his kindle (because he has to harvest his crops?), but it is also all about the Wii and PS3. I know that the second he walks up to me, gives me a little smile and says, "Hey Mom," he is about to ask to play one of those three items. <br />
<br />
Because a seven-year old boy never just comes up to his mom to see how she is doing or offer to help with anything.<br />
<br />
As for Noah-well, let me start by saying that he is currently "cut off" from any of the above mentioned electronics. <br />
<br />
Normally, the only time we let Noah have control of the Kindle (Abby's Kindle, to be exact) is at his sibling's sporting events. As much time as we spend on the sidelines of soccer and basketball practices and games, I gladly let him play a few games. <br />
<br />
(Okay, so it also helps me be able to actually sit and watch the games.)<br />
<br />
Lately, though, he keeps asking to play it at home. Sometimes I give in (after all, I do work from home and I enjoy being able to make phone calls without the sound of whiny three-year old in the background), but usually I point to the ridiculous amount of toys in the house and remind him that I will start throwing them away if they do not get played with.<br />
<br />
I have done it before-I admit it.<br />
<br />
However, Mr. Noah decided to take things into his own hands this week. The other night, I went to check on the kids before going to sleep (am I the only parent who checks to make sure they are breathing every night?) and Noah was in his bed, playing his dad's ipad.<br />
<br />
At 10:30 pm.<br />
<br />
The look on his (tired) face was something I had never seen before. As he looked at us, he felt so much shame and started crying. Partly because he was caught, but mostly because he KNEW we were disappointed.<br />
<br />
Yet...<br />
<br />
Even though he is cut off for awhile, he has STILL continued to sneak the ipad or Kindle. It simply is amazing to me. If I hear silence for more than a minute, I know that I have to seek him out and find what electronic device he is hiding. <br />
<br />
As I took back the ipad for the third time today, it got me to thinking about WHY he is doing this. Yes, he is three years old and testing his boundaries and yes, he loves playing the games on it. But, I think there is more.<br />
<br />
What does he see ME do every day? I work from home so even though I play with him all morning and attempt to work more in the afternoon, I do spend a decent amount of time on the laptop. And my phone. And he sees his dad on the computer (the beauty of the English teacher's job-always grading). And his brother on whatever game he talked me into that day. And his sister on her ipod touch.<br />
<br />
There is no escaping the reality of the tech age we live in, but certainly I can control how much time I spend on such things when I am with my kids. Am I working/seeing what everyone else is doing on facebook while I am with my kids? Or am I being truly present for them? Can I go a whole hour without checking my phone? <br />
<br />
As Noah is "cut off" for awhile, perhaps I should be limiting my addiction to electronics as well.<br />
<br />
Why is it so hard to do?Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-35417538865506721152014-01-23T06:31:00.001-05:002014-01-23T06:31:52.773-05:00What Happened?Oh my. Look at the date. I truly did not mean to wait this long between blog posts.<br />
<br />
I had great intentions of this sweet post about my Christmas ornaments back when we were putting the tree up. I have plenty of fun stories of Christmas and our car trips to share. So many day to day happenings for your amusement.<br />
<br />
What on earth happened?<br />
<br />
I suppose life. I swear that every time I would sit down to write, something or someone would interrupt me. Although I guess I cannot blame it simply on that because somehow I was still able to catch up on my tv shows.<br />
<br />
Yes, I was lazy with writing. I admit it.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I do plan on writing about all of the above things, although some will have to wait until I recover my pictures from my old laptop that decided to die last week. That was fun. Apparently, hard drives can decide to break whenever they want, which is why I should have backed up my pictures more often than I did. Should have.<br />
<br />
The thing is, almost every day I have at least one moment where I think, "Oh, I will have to write about that later" and I literally go through what I will write in my head. Yes, I am a nerd. That truth was reinforced when my biggest excitements the past couple of weeks was getting my new dishwasher, my Erin Condren Planner and having one miraculous day where all of the laundry was done in the house.<br />
<br />
I lead an intoxicating life, I tell you.<br />
<br />
So stay tuned, for I have tales of engagements, sports and travels. The stories stretch from West Virginia to Texas and are filled with laughter and tears.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, I will be dragging my old laptop around, in a desperate search of someone who can rescue my files and pictures for me. Let us hope it is a successful mission.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-75359122521925930792013-12-02T20:59:00.000-05:002013-12-02T20:59:18.935-05:00Molly RosenfeldtI am simply amazed at how much Molly is like my children.<br />
<br />
(Yes, I realize that I have become one of those people who writes about her dog like the dog is a human. I dare you to adopt a dog and not do the exact same thing.)<br />
<br />
1) Molly is like all of my children because she loves food. Like seriously loves food. <br />
<br />
When she sees me reach for her dish, she licks her lips, wags her tail and practically knocks me over trying to get a taste.<br />
<br />
Just like my kids do. Caleb literally licks his lips when he sees food that he likes. I have seen actual drool come out of his mouth upon hearing we are having chicken alfredo for dinner. I have witnessed Abby panting for her food and Noah almost tearing it out of my hands before it reaches the table.<br />
<br />
No, I do not starve my children, no matter what they may lead you to believe. They are savages, I tell you.<br />
<br />
2) Molly is like my children because she leaves messes behind, but is not concerned with who has to clean it up.<br />
<br />
I love the dog-honestly. But, black dog hair on my floor...and furniture...and clothes? Not a fan. If she came with a built in vacuum that followed her around, that would be simply marvelous.<br />
<br />
Kind of like my kids-puzzles, games, toys, doll clothes, stuffed animals...it never ends. Just put the stuff away when you are done with it...it is NOT an impossible idea.<br />
<br />
3) Molly is not above eating off of the floor.<br />
<br />
First of all-LOVE that she cleans up the floor after our dinner. I will say it again-LOVE IT. Gone are the days where I had to sweep under the table three times a day. Spaghetti for dinner? No worries-Miss Molly is on the job. And she knows exactly where to sit-at Noah's feet. She's a smart dog, that one.<br />
<br />
You may wonder how this relates to my children. Let's go back a few years ago...we were eating at a Chick-Fil-A and Caleb went under the table for something. He came up and we caught him eating a piece of pizza. <br />
<br />
In a CHICK-Fil-A. Pizza. Off the floor. With no explanation for its origin.<br />
<br />
I have no more words on that subject.<br />
<br />
4) Molly finds it her right to have what I have.<br />
<br />
If I am anywhere near the kitchen, she is immediately right there with me, waiting for any kind of crumb to drop. Flour from baking? Sure. A stray veggie that falls? Delicious. <br />
<br />
When my kids are around, it is impossible to eat without hearing "Can I have that?" from three different mouths. I have learned to eat my lunch during Noah's nap time. Problem is-Molly does not understand that it should be her nap time as well-she believes it is "sit by my beloved owner and help her eat her lunch" time.<br />
<br />
5) Molly loves unconditionally.<br />
<br />
I do not know what kind of home she came from, but she has found her place here. She loves and trusts us and fits right in. Not only with our immediate family, but also the extended family. She feels at home at Nick's parent's house and had a delightful time at my parent's house. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUaTGqVgY26LMP39k5mb0L5pU_2J89c9GGRsrGpVh6vpZQ6J67JxU2fCaBeqs5lQR0ChT5iTXrMxtU5JJOIh0a2zw32IkbqupGnqVk46IUikcDRM7rHuS4ku66D2VehayyvilbLMpPsqhN/s1600/157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUaTGqVgY26LMP39k5mb0L5pU_2J89c9GGRsrGpVh6vpZQ6J67JxU2fCaBeqs5lQR0ChT5iTXrMxtU5JJOIh0a2zw32IkbqupGnqVk46IUikcDRM7rHuS4ku66D2VehayyvilbLMpPsqhN/s320/157.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Molly with cousin Rocky</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My kids may fight and argue, but underneath it all, they do love each other and trust each other. I pray that always remains true.<br />
<br />
Two months with us and it is hard to remember life before our Molly. Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-52017607616902023552013-10-10T06:51:00.000-04:002013-11-13T06:52:18.006-05:00My Three-Year OldMy baby is now three years old.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoh_AB1MT6fnrnDIgJWboWK6Gk8Hf-kbD-OxHtjMghns66mCTQdiVhYoyze3UrHYJSgNPEzpHOR33v5RldJsRJ7-w6vgqf8RjXroK08JyWDE5G4X24gKgSaG5zM-5ImaldIgWaY_U6nyja/s1600/4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoh_AB1MT6fnrnDIgJWboWK6Gk8Hf-kbD-OxHtjMghns66mCTQdiVhYoyze3UrHYJSgNPEzpHOR33v5RldJsRJ7-w6vgqf8RjXroK08JyWDE5G4X24gKgSaG5zM-5ImaldIgWaY_U6nyja/s320/4.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I refuse to believe that. He is still my baby and that will never change.<br />
<br />
Oh wait-is this how it starts? Is this how the youngest child develops "youngest child syndrome?" In that case, let me start rejoicing that Noah is growing up.<br />
<br />
This baby-excuse me-child of mine is one crazy boy. He is full of energy (all. the. time.) and loves attention. I have heard that most comedians are the youngest sibling so it looks like he is well on his way to that career choice. He will do anything for a laugh.<br />
<br />
Noah has a lot of toys (he should, he is the third kid), yet he never seems to play with them. He will do puzzles all day long and try and sneak the kindle when I am not looking, but other than that, he just likes to make messes.<br />
<br />
How does a kid who does not play with toys make messes? Well, he leaves puzzles everywhere, builds blocks and makes them fall and leaves them everywhere and opens up markers, leaves the caps off and walks away. Oh, and he does get out the occasional toy, but only to stack it on top of something and then walk away.<br />
<br />
When Abby was little, I made sure she always put her toys away when she was done playing. We cleaned up before nap time and before bed. When Caleb was little, we never made it to cleaning up before nap time, but we cleaned up before bed.<br />
<br />
With Noah, I am lucky if the house is somewhat clean by the weekend. <br />
<br />
My little tornado is quite something, though. He never ceases to surprise me with the things that he says or does. Here comes my bragging moment-the kid is smart. Really smart. He does not miss a beat, puts together huge puzzles, kicks my butt at Memory and has amazing language skills.<br />
<br />
To keep it humble, he still has not figured out that he can unzip his coat instead of trying to take it off over his head and getting it stuck.<br />
<br />
Noah loves his friends and I was so happy at his party this year that he had his own guests and not just his older sibling's friends. He talks about Lucian and Grant and Rosie and Austin all the time and I am so thankful that he gets to go to preschool with most of them next year.<br />
<br />
Noah-you came into this world in a flash on 10/10/10 and you have not stopped surprising me. I love you so much and look forward to seeing who you grow up to be.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-27852944555680378402013-10-09T09:11:00.000-04:002013-10-28T09:13:34.607-04:00You Did WHAT In The Loft?Well, life is a little interesting with a dog.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg26sjGVjlpw_KmX0rDEOJ3LtafrwMSxzDXyr5xMloz7_N3dwsmOzxR306CT8So1FNLq5uc3WL_S23HcwMqclnng0hNDJpNDTCC5s6cPEqbPynI2iNVotf7Aa7wjX9kPzlRDKPOFlR2Ym_w/s1600/dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg26sjGVjlpw_KmX0rDEOJ3LtafrwMSxzDXyr5xMloz7_N3dwsmOzxR306CT8So1FNLq5uc3WL_S23HcwMqclnng0hNDJpNDTCC5s6cPEqbPynI2iNVotf7Aa7wjX9kPzlRDKPOFlR2Ym_w/s320/dog.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Molly is awesome-so sweet, great with the kids, house broken.<br />
<br />
Um, mostly house broken.<br />
<br />
The first night that we had her, she must have been nervous because her farts were out of control. I mean, yes, I live with three male species so I am used to a plethora of odors, but these were ridiculous. We gave her plenty of opportunity to use the facilities of our backyard, but she never went.<br />
<br />
As I went to bed that night, exhausted from a day of throwing a birthday party and adopting a dog, I heard Nick say from the hallway, "Um, Tammy, I think we have a problem."<br />
<br />
Miss Molly had pooped in the loft. And not just one poop-multiple poops in many places. And they we were NOT solid. Oh, and did I mention that the kids had not cleaned up their toys before bed that night? Yep, Molly was not choosy about where her poop landed.<br />
<br />
As I scooped it all up and Nick followed behind with the carpet cleaner and paper towels, I questioned whether we were cut out for this whole pet thing. I heard Nick behind me, gagging and saying, "What on earth did we get ourselves into?"<br />
<br />
Poor Molly saw us cleaning up her mess and she was so embarrassed. She kept hiding and putting her tail between her legs. At least the girl felt shame.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, she has become more relaxed and that has not happened again. <br />
<br />
(Actually, she has pooped in the loft a couple of times since, but she was kind enough to keep them solid and it always happened when we left her for too long. Lesson learned for this week-take the dog on a walk before leaving the house for hours.)<br />
<br />
Life is messy, I suppose-I just hope it does not always stay quite THIS messy.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-4072693294491862742013-10-07T11:33:00.000-04:002013-10-16T11:33:45.490-04:00Our New Family MemberSo, this happened to our family...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX8KZGtUJGSQS7RJZmlfA_Wdl_i76U7Wg6fVf7MIFyh96lYE9WjSZcySRpv7LNsQUdTjXXg0uWYc6jDxYl-RDA58Ou6HIjnvdcvo0IcH3ohFEyIglnRSYSnK69SzTAzwJrODlYn-yKB2AO/s1600/63.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX8KZGtUJGSQS7RJZmlfA_Wdl_i76U7Wg6fVf7MIFyh96lYE9WjSZcySRpv7LNsQUdTjXXg0uWYc6jDxYl-RDA58Ou6HIjnvdcvo0IcH3ohFEyIglnRSYSnK69SzTAzwJrODlYn-yKB2AO/s320/63.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Yep. I figured it was too calm and clean in our house and we needed another creature to clean up after.<br />
<br />
I am very wise.<br />
<br />
It all started two days before the kid's birthday party when Nick said to me, "What about a dog for their birthday?" Um, okay. We have talked about it for years so why not look into it? Maybe not go buy a dog that second, but at least consider the idea.<br />
<br />
So, I did what everyone else does in this day and age-I consulted facebook land.<br />
<br />
I asked my local friends where the best place to get a dog would be and was blessed with many answers. I learned more than I ever thought I needed to know by posting that question. Then, the answer that brought about the face you see above. A mom friend from school saw that a friend of a friend had found a lost dog and she needed a home. No tags, took her to the vet and no ID-just a loving dog who needed a family. And they found her about 12 minutes from our house.<br />
<br />
We always planned on getting a puppy that would grow up with the kids, but seeing this dog (and hearing that she was already house trained-hello!) changed our hearts. I went to meet her the night before their party and knew pretty quickly that she belonged with our family.<br />
<br />
So, after the kid's birthday party, we piled into the car and told them that we were going to get one last present that was for all three of them. We pulled up to the house and imagine their confusion when we were standing in a stranger's front yard, looking at a strange dog. It took Abby about a second to exclaim, "We're getting a dog?!"<br />
<br />
The family who had found her and had kept her for a week were so kind. They gave us a card that their daughter had written in, that told us all about what the dog liked. I could tell that they would have loved to keep her, if not for allergies. <br />
<br />
Once we got home, the discussion began on what to name our new family member. The family who had taken care of her had called her "Princess" and "Shadow," but we decided on "Molly."<br />
<br />
Gotta say, "Shadow," is a more appropriate name as she loves to follow us all around the house. But, she is definitely a "Molly" and is just a barrel of fun.<br />
<br />
There will be more stories to come of our Molly girl, but I must go now-she is chewing on a squeaky toy and begging for me to play with her.<br />
<br />
And it begins...Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-14026195397842714512013-10-06T11:21:00.000-04:002013-10-14T11:22:27.655-04:009 Years OldMy little Abby turned 9 years old today. What? Yep, I know. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl63cXQZ64fEv_U0YDsMU-E0fVFgx4wPKnNx5tYsEHfARAme8TZumMtOuDI5EWAWRMgR3b1Ay4K45MCmctU_3bFf8AmshckqLPh_fonkWuQTIEsN48Ed_WPRSsyX0kVPhk7lK7YFLx2RPK/s1600/32.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl63cXQZ64fEv_U0YDsMU-E0fVFgx4wPKnNx5tYsEHfARAme8TZumMtOuDI5EWAWRMgR3b1Ay4K45MCmctU_3bFf8AmshckqLPh_fonkWuQTIEsN48Ed_WPRSsyX0kVPhk7lK7YFLx2RPK/s320/32.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
<br />
I swear I was just driving home from work in 2004, suddenly feeling contractions three minutes apart as I dealt with ridiculous traffic on 275. Yet, here we are and she is nine. The last age of single digits.<br />
<br />
Crap, I need a tissue.<br />
<br />
My not-so-little Abby is just an amazing girl. She is so smart-usually smarter than me, sadly. I try to help her with her math homework and have to pull out my calculator. I never dreamed a child of mine would be in accelerated math. I was the girl in the high reading class and low math class (man, the things they do to us in school) so the fact that Abby does both so well is just plain awesome.<br />
<br />
Speaking of reading-she still loves it. I feel like I am cheating when I write down the minutes that she reads every night, but it is all true. Yes, we have to ban the Harry Potter books from time to time because she loves to reread them, but hey-she has good taste in literature.<br />
<br />
I may complain about being a soccer mom, but I truly love watching her play. I love cheering her on and watching her get excited over a great play. She works hard at everything and is very determined.<br />
<br />
Abby's heart is so sweet. She loves her friends and treats them well. Even better, she is kind to those who are not always the easiest to be kind to. Okay, so maybe she could be kinder to Caleb, but let's focus on the positive things in this post.<br />
<br />
It is starting to make me nervous to see how quickly she is growing up. Our parents always said how quickly it goes by, but that is so easy to shrug off during the baby years, when life is just trying to survive from day to day. But, I swear it is true-I blinked and she is suddenly nine.<br />
<br />
I love you so much, Abigail Grace, and love seeing who you are growing up to be.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-3615214626646982272013-10-05T06:46:00.000-04:002013-10-14T06:47:15.213-04:00Happy Birthday 7 Year OldSo, this happened.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrP0_48XPbP5Z70Hz0_SyxJQJokQyZClcBJkremfuKke0UegLe0_kw8TDZ_rSszwbWwxUWcaPsEeqicu0mX2G2VguHWk9P9NDuQyWn9iSdT7PH8DqXbaHxhYQIQulvzr8Y5KVeIDcYFua/s1600/66.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrP0_48XPbP5Z70Hz0_SyxJQJokQyZClcBJkremfuKke0UegLe0_kw8TDZ_rSszwbWwxUWcaPsEeqicu0mX2G2VguHWk9P9NDuQyWn9iSdT7PH8DqXbaHxhYQIQulvzr8Y5KVeIDcYFua/s320/66.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Caleb turned 7 today. 7! Yes, I know-shocking.<br />
<br />
I just love this kid so much. He is never boring and I am so proud of who he is growing up to be.<br />
<br />
Caleb loves sports. All sports. He runs around at soccer practice for 90 minutes, then the moment his coach says they are done, he grabs a football and starts throwing with his teammates. He goes to Reds and Bengals games with his dad and is much better company than I could ever be. You know-because he actually gets the games and knows every detail where as I enjoy people watching and cheering at big moments of the games.<br />
<br />
He is also a pretty smart kid. He loves reading, which I am so thankful for. Every night, when I check on my boys before going to sleep, he is sprawled out in bed, surrounded by books. (And surrounded by stuffed animals...and football/baseball/soccer guys...) I actually had another mom from school tell me that her son keeps working hard at reading because he wants to catch up to Caleb. What an amazing thing to be told.<br />
<br />
Something that I love about Caleb is how kind he is to his friends. Sure, he can totally be a typical boy and wrestle them to the ground (even if it's at church and the friend has no idea it is coming), but he loves his friends and talks about them a lot. <br />
<br />
He is also super patient with Noah. Probably more patient than I am, honestly. I know that patience comes from this little trick-the moment Caleb gets home from school, he goes directly to his room to change his clothes and he locks himself in his room for awhile. He takes some time to just play by himself, uninterrupted by his little brother. As long as he has that time, he is great for the rest of the evening. If he does not get that time, Lord help us all.<br />
<br />
It is actually a good lesson-we all need some quiet time to make it through the day.<br />
<br />
Happy Birthday to my amazing and "growing up too quickly" Caleb Paul. I love you more than you can ever imagine.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-86388313066128219332013-10-03T06:40:00.000-04:002013-10-03T06:40:26.858-04:00Caleb's PrayersI was tucking in the boys the other night and doing so in a rushed kind of way. It was a soccer practice night, which meant a late night to bed, on a school night.<br />
<br />
As I started to leave their room, I remembered and asked, "Did you pray, yet?" Caleb answered, "I already prayed in the shower."<br />
<br />
Now, as one who does the same thing (hey, it is the only time where I will not be interrupted) I was impressed. I asked him what he prayed about.<br />
<br />
This is where I am so glad that I took the time to ask him this question.<br />
<br />
Caleb started telling me, "Well, you know, I thanked him for saving me and I prayed for other people to be okay. You know, He really saved us, Mom. And He didn't come to do that because we are perfect, but because we are sinful. I kind of get shy about saying all this in front of people, but I just thanked Him for saving me."<br />
<br />
As my eyes were filling with tears, I asked him, "So, you asked Jesus in your heart?" to which he said, "Yeah," as if there was any question.<br />
<br />
When I asked if he prayed for anything else, he said, "Well, I was going to, but that's when you walked in and told me the Reds score and interrupted me." <br />
<br />
Whoops.<br />
<br />
I then asked him where he learned all of this, thinking it was obviously his parents. After all, I have a degree in ministry and teach the kid's class in church. He replied, "School."<br />
<br />
Awesome.<br />
<br />
I have to add that this kid is the same kid who woke up grumpy the next morning and snapped at all of us. But, hey, he did tell me that we are all sinful so it happens, right?Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-38408420487942215702013-09-27T09:23:00.000-04:002013-09-27T09:23:18.407-04:00The Kindness Of A StrangerNot too long ago, I was at the store, buying groceries and wondering how on earth I was going to pay for them. <br />
<br />
I had my calculator in hand, keeping track to the cent so that I did not go over my little budget (can you tell it was right before payday?). I went to the check-out, the cashier swiped it all and then it was time to pay.<br />
<br />
I opened my purse and realized that my wallet was not in there.<br />
<br />
This coming from the girl who sells bags and wallets for a living. Yes, the irony.<br />
<br />
It dawned on me that I had taken just my wallet into the post office prior to my grocery shopping trip, meaning it was most likely sitting in my van, all by its lonesome.<br />
<br />
I looked at the cashier, looked at the lady in line behind me, and looked at my three children and said, "You will not believe this, but I think my wallet is in the car. Can I run and get it and you can cancel my order until I get back so the lady behind me can check out?"<br />
<br />
The lady behind me, who had every right to roll her eyes, huff and puff and complain, did the exact opposite.<br />
<br />
She smiled and said, "Oh, just put it on my order-I'll pay for it."<br />
<br />
Um, what?<br />
<br />
It is hard to say whose jaw dropped further-mine or the cashier's, but once I recovered, I argued that she could not do that. After all, my total was over $60. She just waved me off and insisted on paying. By insisting, I mean she was already having her items scanned and pulling out her wallet. She said, "It will be my nice deed for the day."<br />
<br />
As I walked away, still shocked, I was overwhelmed by her act of kindness. She had no idea how tight we were on money and what an amazing blessing that was. And my kids were able to witness the kindness of a stranger, which is a lesson that has to be seen, not simply told.<br />
<br />
Not only that, but it was a blessing from God. I have lost track of the amount of times that He has provided in the most random ways, with it having nothing to do with our actions. Money from an anonymous person in the mail, extra income, a gift card in the mail...it never ceases to amaze me when it happens.<br />
<br />
I look forward to passing it on to the next person.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-52878247348921312132013-09-11T08:01:00.000-04:002013-09-11T08:01:00.371-04:00Wants It AllNoah just wants to be a part of everything.<br />
<br />
Yes, typical third kid. Just trying to keep up and not miss anything.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, as Caleb was lying on the couch, recovering from strep throat (that is a whole other post coming your way soon), I decided to give him another popsicle. Before I pulled it out of the freezer, I said to my other children, "Okay guys, I'm giving Caleb something right now because he's sick, but you can both have one after dinner."<br />
<br />
Immediately, Noah ran over to me and said, "I want one! Me, too!"<br />
<br />
I looked at him and said, "Do you even know what he is eating?"<br />
<br />
Noah simply replied, "I really want one, too!"<br />
<br />
So I answered him, "It's cow poop, Noah. Do you really want cow poop?"<br />
<br />
Noah, the brilliant child that he is, nodded his head. Then he ran to the stairway and yelled upstairs, "Abby! Cow poop!" with so much excitement that I thought he was going to fall over in anticipation.<br />
<br />
As we all burst out laughing, he joined in, absolutely thrilled that all three of us were looking at him and only him for a small moment in time. <br />
<br />
A little while later, Caleb randomly said to me, "I've never been on a plane, Mom, can you take me on one?<br />
<br />
Noah chimed in, "Me, too! I want one!"<br />
<br />
I asked him what he wanted and he said, "A plane."<br />
<br />
I gave him a popsicle as a compromise.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-5674811932116035812013-08-17T08:35:00.000-04:002013-08-17T08:35:05.424-04:00So Long Soccer BallIf I have not mentioned it before, Noah is a little bit crazy.<br />
<br />
I suppose it is the typical third kid syndrome, but wow-he is just full of energy and opinions, much more than the other two. Maybe it is because we are older as he goes through the two-year old phase, but sometimes I just look at him and wonder what on earth possessed him to do what he just did.<br />
<br />
I wonder this when I see him standing upstairs in the loft...on the top edge of the recliner...close to falling over the railing. I wonder this when he flat out disobeys us even though he knows what will be coming to him. I wonder this when he runs out the front door, toward the street, laughing hysterically the whole way, as I chase him in my pajamas.<br />
<br />
I really wondered this last night. We were at Abby's soccer game and as they were warming up, the boys were playing on an empty field. As Caleb walked over to watch the game start, I went to get Noah, who was preoccupied. As I got closer, I saw him standing right by a drain pipe than ran into the hillside, like a tunnel.<br />
<br />
As I wondered why he was just standing there, it dawned on me that he was just playing with Caleb's soccer ball. And I did not see the soccer ball anywhere in sight.<br />
<br />
When I asked him what he did, he said, "The ball is in there!" pointing to the dark tunnel. Awesome.<br />
<br />
I got down on my hands and knees and looked in, but could not see anything. I suppose I could have stuck my head in further, but yeah, no, that was not going to happen.<br />
<br />
I went back and told Caleb the bad news. He and Nick checked it out and took along a golf club (from Nick's trunk) to see if they could reach it. Caleb, of course, could see the ball (because he has no fear about sticking his head in a dark drain pipe, which should probably concern me) and kept telling Nick that he was so close to reaching it.<br />
<br />
They finally gave up and asked me to try, since my arms are longer. I went back at halftime (because we wanted to watch the game, the actual reason we were there) and I could finally see the ball, but it was waaaaaay back in there. I tried in vain, but that bright orange soccer ball was going to stay in the drain pipe. Maybe someday it will lose air and be swept out to the pond, but for now, its home is there.<br />
<br />
What is ridiculous is that Noah has no clue that he did something wrong. It is not like I can say, "The new ball we have to buy is coming out of your allowance" to a two-year old. <br />
<br />
He is actually quite proud of what he did. A stranger walked by as we were trying to get the ball out and when she looked at us with a questioning look (what, you have never seen a grown woman, laying flat on the ground with her arm in a drain pipe, holding a golf club?), I quickly said we were getting a soccer ball out. Noah yelled out proudly, "I put it there! Me!"<br />
<br />
The kid is never boring. I could write more about him, but I have to go rescue him. He turned a laundry basket upside down, stood on it to reach the basket of fruit and is now stuck, hanging on the side of the counter.<br />
<br />
Two soccer games to watch today-let's see what kind of adventures we can find today.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-5890602125022677982013-08-16T07:25:00.003-04:002013-08-16T07:25:37.608-04:00A New TitleLast June I signed up to sell bags and totes with Thirty-One Gifts. I knew I liked the products, I knew that I wanted more for free, and figured, "Why not give it a try?"<br />
<br />
So, flash forward a year and two months and I find myself a Director with the company.<br />
<br />
Um, what? This stay at home mommy is a director of something?<br />
<br />
Apparently. And I absolutely love my job. I still get to be home with my kids, but then go out and have my "me" time with my job. And did I mention that my job is going to parties where women talk about bags? Pretty sweet.<br />
<br />
It is still hitting me that this is what I do. When I am introduced to new people and someone asks me what I do, I have to catch myself from saying, "I stay home," and can now say, "I'm a director with Thirty-One." <br />
<br />
NOT that saying, "I stay home" is anything to be ashamed of. Hello-my entire blog is based on how thankful I am that I get to stay home while my kids are young. But, I have to admit, it is fun to state that I do something else as well.<br />
<br />
Maybe it is because I have felt lost during the past nine years-lost of who I used to be. I used to be fun and felt like I made a difference in people's lives. I had more adventures and ideas. I look at my pictures from college and our first couple of years of marriage and I think, "Wow, where did that woman go?"<br />
<br />
Yes, I know how important my past nine years have been-taking care of my children and spending quality time with them is more important than how I feel about myself. I know that shaping them into the people that they are becoming is a thousand times more important than my ego. And I would never trade it for anything. The sacrifices have been worth it.<br />
<br />
I just really appreciate being able to interact with other women and help them reach their goals. And setting my own goals and working hard to reach them (this is when my stubborn personality helps me succeed). And I love being able to contribute financially to our family budget. It has been a blessing to work for a company that lets me set my own hours, gives me chances to move up and earn more, all while allowing me to stay home with my kids during these precious few years.<br />
<br />
So, this mom will continue to change diapers (really need to get on potty training Noah, right?), clean the house, make meals, carpool to school and soccer and baseball, discipline, do laundry, pay bills, and generally keep our crazy family of five somewhat sane. But, this mom will also schedule parties, keep up with customers, train a team of fabulous women, and sell bags and totes to anyone who is interested.<br />
<br />
And will have fun doing both things at the same time. Bring on the chaos.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8811689877706811038.post-11439699323591746482013-08-07T22:15:00.001-04:002013-08-07T22:15:16.267-04:00Cherish My TimeSince I have so many things to catch you all up on, the following posts will be in no particular order. I shall write today, try again later this week and so on. Forgive my lack of things in the chronological order, but I will start with what is on my heart right now.<br />
<br />
This summer, our school community lost two women in a tragic way.<br />
<br />
One woman was Julie Willard. She was a mom of two boys, one already grown and one still in high school. I was blessed to know her because Nick taught her boys and she heard that I was a Thirty-One consultant. She opened up her home last fall and hosted a party, in which I was able to meet many of her friends.<br />
<br />
What I noticed about Julie at that party was that she was always making sure that everyone was comfortable and happy. As I got to know her more and hear others mention her, I realized that she was a very charitable person who always gave of her time to step up and help anyone in need.<br />
<br />
This summer, Julie passed away suddenly. And by suddenly, I mean she was texting a friend about a random thing one minute and 15 minutes later her son found her unconscious on her bed. She never woke up.<br />
<br />
I cannot imagine the pain her family is still going through. No chance to say good-bye, words let unsaid, future plans left unmade. She will not see her boys get married or have children or see them find their dreams.<br />
<br />
The second woman was Lisa Heath. From the moment that I met her, I always loved her name because my best friend's maiden name was Lisa Heathcote. Lisa Heath had battled cancer for a few years so her death was not a surprise, but rather a long, drawn out tragedy that still left the same results-she will never see her kids graduate, get married, have children...it is unfathomable to me.<br />
<br />
Last summer, Lisa was told she wouldn't live much longer, but was miraculously healed. She was able to have another year with her family. She knew the cancer was back this past spring and just a few weeks ago, she went into liver failure. Yes, she had that extra year, but it was never enough.<br />
<br />
I missed both of their funerals. Julie died on July 4th and her funeral took place while we were at camp the following week. Lisa died on July 26th and her funeral was while we were on our family vacation. I received the text from her best friend (also my good friend) while I was in the midst of the Thirty-One Conference. Everyone was around me, "Woo Hooing" about the new purse line and I looked at my phone and read, "She is in Heaven now in the arms of Jesus."<br />
<br />
Have you ever been in one of those moments where your world stops while everyone else's keeps going? I sat there, stunned, tears rolling down my face while 16,000 other women kept laughing and smiling over bags with their friends. <br />
<br />
I tried to get out. I left the room and tried to find a space where I could be alone to call my friend, but everywhere I looked there were people. In those moments, it suddenly becomes a mystery to how everyone can be so happy and not realize that you are screaming inside.<br />
<br />
My heart is still hurting for her husband, who lost his partner in life. And especially for her kids, twins, who are in Abby's grade. They are too young to lose their mom. Although, is there ever an age where we are old enough?<br />
<br />
I have no explanation for why these things happen. All I know is that it makes me appreciate the time that I do have with my family right now. So when I am getting frustrated because I have been interrupted ALL DAY while trying to write this (seriously, every time I sit down to type this, I get about a sentence in and one of my children needs something-and this is the girl who wrote two 10 page papers in one night in college and received awesome grades on them), I need to keep my attitude in check.<br />
<br />
I am here right now. I am with my children. I am seeing them grow and reach milestones. I do not know how long I have left, but I want to cherish it all. We are given a sliver of our time here compared to what lies ahead.<br />
<br />
And what lies ahead will be oh, so glorious. Julie and Lisa already know. They are not asking the questions or wondering, "Why God?" They are with their beloved, waiting for everyone else to taste what they now know.<br />
<br />
To quote from one of my favorite passages in the Jesus Storybook Bible (not just for kids, people), "And the King says, 'Look! God and his children are together again. No more running away. Or hiding. No more crying or being lonely or afraid. No more being sick or dying. Because all those things are gone. Yes, they're gone forever. Everything sad has come untrue. And see-I have wiped away every tear from every eye!'" And then a deep, beautiful voice that sounded like thunder in the sky says, 'Look, I am making everything new!'"Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00028599711861265712noreply@blogger.com1