Celebration

I 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.

Then I got the call.  My grandpa passed away.

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.

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.

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).

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?

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.

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."

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.

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.

Hello World

Uh, 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.

Yet, here I sit, months later, attempting to remember all of those memorable moments that I found worthy of print.  Now, where to start?

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.

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.

Today, there is snow on the ground.  I really don't like Ohio sometimes.

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 try not to do it often).  Lately, though, I have felt my age and suddenly have realized I am not 22 anymore.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I now understand why so many of my friends are suddenly running marathons.

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.

Yep-never mind.  I need to maintain the chaos.  That sounds better.

So, this "cookie denying, exercising more, maintaining chaos" mom will have more thoughts coming your way soon.

Speech Meets

My 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.

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.

And, quite honestly, Abby has a basketball tournament that same day so it REALLY was okay with me if they were not chosen.

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.

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.

I know.  Amazing.

Came to learn AFTER he left that the speech was to be delivered the next day.  I wrote it down for the wrong date.

No problem-he wanted to wake up early the next day, just to make sure he was ready.

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."

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.

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.

Here is where I am proud of her and embarrassed by my thoughts.

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.

Now, here is what my sinful, mama bear mind was actually thinking...

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.

Yep-not proud of it, but I think every mom can understand my feelings.

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.

My kids are currently 9, 7, and 3.  Something tells me that I have many years ahead of me of heartbreak.  And, thankfully, joy.

First 20 Minutes Of The Day

I 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.

7:02 am, Abby comes downstairs to breakfast, all smiles and ready to start her day.  Seriously?

I called my carpool friend and said I would take in.

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.

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.

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.

The crash was caused by the following...

...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.

Seriously?

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.

Called my carpool friend (again) and arranged for her to pick up Caleb.

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.

By then it was 7:20 am.

The day can only get better, right?

Addictions

I have an addictive personality.

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.

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.

Maybe this is why I am known for my chocolate chip cookies.  Hmm.

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.

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.

Okay, so they are probably like every other child their age in this culture, but I am noticing it more these days.

I blame the snow days.

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.

And why shouldn't she?  I do the same thing with my phone, right?

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.

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.

As for Noah-well, let me start by saying that he is currently "cut off" from any of the above mentioned electronics.

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.

(Okay, so it also helps me be able to actually sit and watch the games.)

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.

I have done it before-I admit it.

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.

At 10:30 pm.

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.

Yet...

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.

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.

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.

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?

As Noah is "cut off" for awhile, perhaps I should be limiting my addiction to electronics as well.

Why is it so hard to do?

What Happened?

Oh my.  Look at the date.  I truly did not mean to wait this long between blog posts.

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.

What on earth happened?

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.

Yes, I was lazy with writing.  I admit it.

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.

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.

I lead an intoxicating life, I tell you.

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.

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.

Molly Rosenfeldt

I am simply amazed at how much Molly is like my children.

(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.)

1)  Molly is like all of my children because she loves food.  Like seriously loves food.

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.

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.

No, I do not starve my children, no matter what they may lead you to believe.  They are savages, I tell you.

2)  Molly is like my children because she leaves messes behind, but is not concerned with who has to clean it up.

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.

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.

3)  Molly is not above eating off of the floor.

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.

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.

In a CHICK-Fil-A.  Pizza.  Off the floor.  With no explanation for its origin.

I have no more words on that subject.

4)  Molly finds it her right to have what I have.

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.

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.

5)  Molly loves unconditionally.

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.

Molly with cousin Rocky

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.

Two months with us and it is hard to remember life before our Molly.