Cherished Coversations | Worship the Lord

A couple of days ago I was talking to Miss L about traveling to Denver for her Grandpa Great's funeral. I told her that we would fly from Texas to Colorado on Saturday then come back Sunday afternoon. She thought about this for a bit and then asked, "How will we worship the Lord if we are traveling on Sunday." My heart leapt as I realized her observation of the pattern of the week and the importance of the Lord's day in the life of a believer. I told her we would most likely listen to a sermon online and sing together as a family. 

Husband has always made the Lord's day a priority...even while on vacation he will look into a place where we can worship with other believers. I have always appreciated that about him. We are now seeing that impression being made on our children.

"Train up a child in the way he should go,

And when he is old he will not depart from it."

Proverbs 22:6

The Brain is a Curious Thing or The Morning We Called 911

Wednesday morning started like any other morning. Or so I thought.  About 10 minutes after getting out of bed my vision became blurry, I was dizzy, and as I tried to say any words they wouldn't come. My husband was in the shower and I had to communicate my distress to him so I tried the best I could to say something and my failed attempts at communicating anything of significance alarmed my husband. I layed back in bed and Husband called 911.  The thoughts of a possible stroke ran though both of our minds. I kept trying to tell Husband about the alarm in the house but I could only call it the "thing" and he had to turn it off.  The things we think of in crisis, right?

The paramedics came bounding in rather quickly and started asking me questions.  I started crying because I knew the answers to their questions but could not actually say the words to answer them. For example, they asked if I knew where I was.  I did.  I knew that I was in my house but I could NOT say the word house.  However, I COULD say the numbers in my address.  Go figure.  My language started to come back to me after awhile as the paramedics checked to see if I was currently having a stroke or heart attack.  I passed their tests but they gave me the option of either taking a ride in an ambulance to the ER or get in to my primary as soon as possible.  I opted for the later.

My children were not scared during this time but found it fascinating that the fire department was in our house.  The girls informed them that our neighbor was a firefighter which one of the men tending to me actually knew.  They took the girls out into the truck let them climb around and let the siren go once.  If our neighbors were hoping to enjoy sleeping in over Spring Break that was the morning it was NOT going to happen.  HA!

I was able to get in to see a nurse practitioner at Mayo Clinic (where my primary doctor is) and given orders for a complete blood work panel and an MRI of my head and neck that was completed on Thursday evening.  This morning (Friday) I was called and told that everything came back clear but they are going to send my MRI and reports over to the neurology department for a consult.

So, what does all this mean?  Well, we know that I didn't have a stroke.  I could have had a TIA (read about that here) or a possible seizure.  Yes, you can have a seizure and be fully conscious. Now we wait to hear more from the doctors and hope that the symptoms do not occur again.  I am so thankful for my husband who did not hesitate because all of my physical symptoms were that of a stroke, while rare in thirty-six year olds, are not unheard of.  I was pretty worn out after everything and I had a pretty normal day today but still tired.  It's hard to fully know if small things I experience are connected to my episode or not.  I am trying to be "normal" but also observant of what is happening with my body.

Toothfairy

Back in September Miss L lost her first tooth.  Miss L was playing with some plastic bracelet and put it in her mouth like a dog.  She got up to go do something in the bathroom when she tasted something, looked in the mirror, and blurted out her tooth was gone.  But she didn't know where the tooth was!  She was SO excited and SO scared all at the same time.  It was not what she thought losing a tooth would feel like.  Apparently Mom and Dad forgot to mention that there might be some blood.  Whoops!  Anyway, I retraced some footsteps and found her tooth in the living room where she had been playing.  YAY, Mom!  While we don't play the Santa "game" we have decided to play the Tooth Fairy game -- still not sure how I feel about it but whatever. She got $5 for the first lost tooth.

A week later, to the day, she lost her second tooth.

Not such a great story.  We had just finished swim lessons for the evening and as per tradition for this particular summer of lessons we head to Chick-fil-a for dinner as a family... grandparents, too.  Miss L traded in her toy from the kids meal for an ice cream cone.  She had been working on it for a bit and decided to share with Daddy.  I suddenly pulled the cone away from Husband because something looked funny.  Sure enough once I got the cone closer for inspection and then looked at Miss L she had lost the tooth!  Unfortunately, it was no where to be found. (I think she swallowed it) Even our favorite CFA employee pulled out a flashlight (on his smartphone) and helped us look all around under the table and booth. Nothing.  Miss L was devastated.  She wondered how the tooth fairy would find her.  We told her that Daddy had a special number to call.  Also, we had just read a Curious George book that talked about how lights would light up on firefighters maps (back in the day) from where the call came from or where the fire was. I told her that when a child loses a tooth the tooth fairy gets a message about a tooth being gone, etc.  The tooth fairy made her appearance and left her two gold dollar coins.  A little extra for the trauma.

Later we found out that Miss L had to have two teeth removed to help with the crowding issue in her mouth.  While it won't fix her orthodontic issues by any means it did help it a little.  Miss L received two 50-cent pieces for her teeth.

All of this reminds be of the great lengths in which my own dad did the tooth fairy (and Santa). While we don't want to go to such extremes with our kids it did bring me some happy memories.  My dad would have the ladies in the office at his work pen well thought out letters from the tooth fairy as I left her questions about her age and other such things that young minds inquire about.  But I also remember that I was usually left random denomination of money.  Things like the $2 bill, one dollar coins, 50-cent pieces.  I think that also helped me save the money, too.  They were so unique that I didn't want to spend them.  So, while the extravagant stories will not continue on with our children I think that the rare denominations of money will.  Although, we know that the $5 is not rare we just wanted the first to be fun and special.

Jesus on the cross..

On Wednesday, I started to read Miss L her Bible lesson for the day.  The title was something like, "The Sun Goes Dark."  Basically, it was the set up for Jesus going to Calvary, his crucifixion, and death.

She says, "Oh, I love this part!" in almost a giddy fashion.

A little disturbed by her excitement I ask, "Why do you like this part?  He is in so much pain and he dies."

"Oh, I know.  But it's the part where He takes our sins away!  That's the best part!"

Perspective.

I learn a lot from my children.

First Day of School

With the advent of Pinterest there are more than enough ideas on how to capture a child's first day of school no matter the grade.  I think I had grand imaginations of doing something sweet and memorable...but it didn't quite happen.  You see we started school the day after we returned from a short family vacation to Colorado.  I hesitated in putting the start of school there but I did it just the same.  I'll probably not do that again.  While the day went off without a hitch I was kind of stressed the night before.  The stress was in vain but there was more I needed wanted to do but did not.  I made a super simple sign on our white board  that said "First day of 1st" grade and set out all of her books and supplies in front of it.

But what happened next erased all thoughts of "it's just not enough"...

I had mostly forgotten that I had the sign on the table as I proceeded with the morning responsibilities of breakfast when all of a sudden I found myself wrapped up tightly in Miss L's arms.  I asked her what that was for and she pulled me to the table and excitedly giggled that it was the first day of 1st grade!  She was just excited to start school again.  Apparently our six week break was more than enough for her.

While we took pictures for the sake of prosperity they were not fancy.  It's not what she'll remember.  She'll remember the adventure of learning with her mom.  I hope she's that excited every year for school.  But more than anything I hope that she's that excited about learning for the rest of her life.

Cherished Conversations | Kindness from Wisdom

Today, when compared to other days, was an odd day for us.

We woke up much earlier than normal and took Daddy to the airport.  Saying good-bye is always hard but for Miss L it is the most difficult.  She's sensitive and she is so very attached to her daddy.  It's hard when he is gone even just for a few days.  It takes her awhile to recover.

We eat breakfast later than normal on these early morning adventures to the airport because we come back to a bagel shop near our house which is a treat for the girls and a good distraction.

As we were talking, laughing, and eating an older gentleman entered the door behind us.  I noticed Miss S wave to someone as did Miss A.  The gentleman came over and and said, "It's so nice when young ones want to engage with people rather than hide behind mama."  Let me clarify, my girls have those "hide behind mama" moments often but today they were feeling especially social.  He talked to each one of the girls and even listened to Miss S as she babbled a few coherent words and then a whole bunch of nonsense even though it was quite apparent it all made perfect sense to her.

Next, Miss L dove in and told him all about school and how she is finishing kindergarten and looking forward to first grade.  He made some comment to her that didn't quite apply to our homeschool environment (I don't remember what it was) and Miss L just said, "Oh, I'm homeschooled."  Without missing a beat or looking shocked he said, "Well, you'll probably get a better education that way!" and continued to talk to the girls about school and a whole host of other things.

I was floored.  I was NOT expecting that response at all.  BUT I was thankful for it.  People generally look at me like I have horns growing out of my head when I tell them we homeschool.  Others have a few curious questions and move on.  Few have ever had this kind of response unless they homeschool as well.

He was a kind man.  His kindness had an impact not only on my children but also on me.  I'm not trying to put down public schools but trying to remember the kindness of people that the Lord places in my path because it is easy to focus on the harsh words from people... I want to remember the kind words, too.

So, thank you, dear gentleman... you made this mama's hard morning a little easier.

Small Things | His Watch

It's Christmas eve.

We returned home from a family service with Husband's parents, dinner, and looking at lights.  Our hearts are light...but we are tired.  We are thankful all is ready for the morning.

Except the stockings.

I quickly located them in a bag.  I counted out seven big boot sacks.  I mention quickly that I am glad I didn't find my dad's thinking it was in a bag in another room.

Then his fell out onto the chair.  I notice it has some heft to it.  I reach in my arm recognizes the small flags that veteran organizations brought to him in hospice.  My hand seizes something metal and a wave of emotion and shock pulsate through my body.  I look at Husband and exclaim, "His watch!" and the fount of tears comes forth.  I cannot control it.  My girls watch in wonder as I hold the watch tight and Husband holds me tighter.  My oldest begins to cry, too.  Later my middle one says, "I'm gunna give you some love, okay?"  Sweet girls.

My dad was kind of obsessed with his watch.  He pretty much went batty when he didn't have it.  It was one of the first things he requested to have when he left the hospital.  However, he only wore it for a time while in hospice because it became too big for him.  However, it was always on his bedside or he would have it in his lap.

Oddly, the watch is still keeping time and the day is still correct.  The date is off but I think that came from the months with only 30 days and my dad would have to change it to the first when it read 31.

While the discovery was quite emotional...it was quite providential. Healing.  Welcome.

Knock, Knock....Housekeeping!

Once upon a time, a long long time ago... okay, okay... the summer of 1999 (yikes! 14 years ago!) I worked in our nation's first national park, Yellowstone.  It was nothing as exciting as being a park ranger but rather I was there to clean rooms at Old Faithful Inn as part of a summer project with Campus Crusade for Christ (now Cru.)  It was a summer that impacted my life in various ways and apparently is still bearing fruit in other areas still today.

You see, one becomes very familiar with the details and rigors of housekeeping when work is done in one of the busiest hotels in the nation over the summer months.  While I was not the fastest room cleaner in the est I found an appreciation for those who do it day in and day out for years on end.  Not just for the summer, you see.  The solitary work about drove me mad and so management had mercy on me and when they could they moved me into a position of picking up buffalo poop grounds keeping and cleaning public spaces.  I was thankful to be around more people and I LOVED that job.  No, really.

Today I find myself nearing the end of a two month stay at a hotel.  I am always reminded that it is well worth knowing the names of the people around you.  Especially in the service arena.  I'm pretty sure I know everyone who works here from management, to housekeeping, to food service.  They work hard.

However, I will say that our relationships with those in housekeeping are by far the most significant.  We see them just about everyday.  My kids run down the halls in little-girl-screeching-delight when they see Mrs I and Mrs E, the women who run the housekeeping department.  The day that I told Mrs. I  that I had worked in housekeeping for a time she was surprised and asked all sorts of questions.  We talked about the hard work of it all and the difference in how things work here versus what I experienced.  It seemed like that sealed our relationship.  Well, that and the fact that my girls easily endear themselves to almost anyone. HA!  We have had conversations about family, life, church, and other things. We have made great friends here and while we are excited to go home we are sad to leave the people that we have met here.

My girls have this notion that the housekeeping crew will just come home with us.  Yes, I wish.  HA!  We'll take food service with us as well.  My girls even pretend clean after housekeeping leaves and when we come back to the room they do the famous "knock, knock! Housekeeping!" at the the door and then burst into quiet giggles.  If anything it has been a social education for my girls and I think they are doing fabulously.

Fourteen years ago I wondered how on earth my being a housekeeper would have any sort of impact or be of any sort of significance.  I merely thought it was a vehicle to do ministry at that time.  Nope, apparently there would be another reason that would not be fully realized until 14 years later.  I wonder what that summer still has in store for me?

Cherished Conversation | Women & Work

During our stay in California we have had the opportunity to interact with a large variety of people.  My girls make different observations which are never prompted by us.  Although, most observations require some explaining and redirection.  Here is one of those social observations:

The honest truth is if you look at the people that are staying here the majority are men.  There have been a few females, fewer couples are here during the week.  And if there are more we don't see them in the public areas much for the meals that are provided by our hotel.  Granted, this changes on the weekend when we see more families.  But for extended stay there a couple of families, a few couples, a few (travelling single) women, and a bunch of (travelling single) men... of all different nationalities.

One morning Miss L asks, "Why do some women go to work?"

"Because some women need to do that to help their families, or they don't have children to stay home with.  That's the decision some women want or need to make," I replied.

"So, what happens to their children when they go to work?"

I do my best to explain a day care center and the option of a babysitter (which she understands a bit more fully) and that some children are old enough to go to a public school.

Her eyes teared up.  She told me that she was sad that some children didn't get to spend the whole day with their mom or dad.

"I always want you to be my teacher, Mama."

My eyes fought back tears and I was overwhelmed by her love.

I grew up in a single parent home.  My dad did the best he could but that had to include a mix of private day care, "regular" day care, and baby sitters.  I didn't know anything different.  I thought it was a natural part of everyone's childhood.  It wasn't until we moved from Albuquerque to Los Lunas that I met other kids who had a mom that stayed home.  It was AWESOME.  I was jealous for a time but understood that was not at all how it could work in our house.  I understand that for some it just isn't an option.  However, now that my husband has blessed me and our children with the opportunity for me to stay home I do thin kit is the best option.  Many people have made great sacrifices to be at home with their children... while it may indeed be a great sacrifice in some areas it has the best return on the investment by far.   

Cherished Conversations

I never know what will set off a certain line of questioning from my children.  Especially with Miss L.  She is so inquisitive and soaking things up like a sponge.  I am alway so surprised by what she remembers and in what detail.  Here is a conversation we had today right after finishing our school work for the day.

"Mama, can you show me a picture of YOUR grandma and grandpa?"

"Sure, when we get back to Phoenix I will show you a picture of my grandma and grandpa."

"Are they old or young?"

"Well, they were kind of old when they died.  They are gone now like Grandpa Tash is gone."

"Oh.  When did they die?"

"My grandpa died a long time before you were born.  Even before your daddy and I got married.  But my grandma, you got to meet her when you were really little.  And then when she died you went with me to her funeral.  Although, you wouldn't remember that."

"Oh, I remember."

"You do?!"

"Yep, I remember in my heart."

So, there I was choking back tears and off she went to the next thing.  Ugh.  These kids are hard on the heart sometimes... in the best possible way.

Hotel Memories

Obviously things happen for a reason and in just the right season.  My husband has been assigned to work in California for some undetermined amount of time and we are fortunate enough to be here together as a family.  As my husband had been working out here prior to all of us joining him he found a hotel just across the street from his work site.  He told me later that he was pretty sure it was the place we had stayed with my dad when we all went to California in 2009.  Our minds stretched for that trip... we have had two more babies since then... enough said.  The mind and its memories blur.

However, as soon as we pulled off the highway onto our street the memories came flooding back.  There stood the Olive Garden that we had managed a meal with a nine-month-old Miss L.  She made a mess and I am sure she had a fit.  Maybe she had done okay.  I just remember the mess.  The hotel itself was hard to remember... that is until I stepped out back to see Matt and the two older girls swimming.  I had to steady myself and keep composure.  Memories flooded back.  We had taken Miss L swimming a couple of times in the pool here after botched attempts at the beach with a baby.  My dad never got in but he watched, took pictures, and wrapped Baby L up in a towel and kept her warm.  I could see the picture in my minds eye... and I found it... the picture above.

We came out here Labor Day weekend of 2009.  My dad had just moved from New Mexico to Arizona and was living with us for a time until he found his own place.  We persuaded him out come to California with us.  An adventure because California was never on his list of top places to vacation.  We had fun... and we learned a lot about travelling on Labor Day Weekend or just travelling with a little one in general.

It's hard to think that then we only had three more years left with him.  But they were good years.  I am thankful that the Lord brought us here at this time to let me remember these things.  And today I swam in that same pool with Miss L who can now basically swim on her own... and her two sisters.  I could almost see my dad standing in the same spot laughing and shaking his head at the antics of my girls.

Thank you, Jesus, for this time right now.

Not Missing Grandpa

This evening Husband and I were having a conversation at the dinner table and my papa came up in conversation.  Tears rolled down my face and I had to explain to the girls that I was not upset but the tears were because I missed Grandpa T.  More tears came and Miss A exclaims, "Your eyes are dripping!"  We all laughed.

I then asked Miss L if she missed Grandpa T and she said very simply, "No."  I told her that was okay.  But what she said next grabbed me...

"I can see his face.  And he called me on my hand phone yesterday.  But I was busy and couldn't answer it."

She doesn't miss him because in some way she has created her own connection back to him.

Later Miss A prayed on her own thanking Jesus that Grandpa T was with him and that he felt all better now.

I miss my dad very much.  The reality of what each day for the rest of this marks in relation to last year is painful.  Most days I am doing really well and other days the emotions hit me like a truck.  But I still want to remember these little things.

Proud Mama | Church & Peers

While it's never good that a child is disobedient there is a process of training.  This last Sunday we got to see a glimpse into what is happening in Miss L's heart.

Miss L and her sister lost the privilege to go to the playground at church (they call it the "park") because their behavior was not, shall we say, sweet.  We understand their ages and have grace for that but this was a bit nutty.  We were staying later at church this particular Sunday for a meeting so off the two older ones went to a catechism class.  At the end of their class Miss L came to find me with tears in her eyes asking if she could now go to the playground.  Being Mom I wanted to find out the root of her tears.  She first said nothing and couldn't quite verbalize all that was going on.  I found her teachers and this is what they told me,

"She did really well in class and had no problems.  When we let the other kids out she just watched them and started to cry.  We thought maybe she had hurt herself but she just said she needed to go ask her mom."

I held back the tears.

She knew and she obeyed.

Sweet Miss L knew she was not supposed to go to the playground.  At just over four and a half years old she resisted the urge as she saw ALL the other kids run outside and start playing.  She came to find us to ask permission if she could now join her friends.  We praised her for making a good decision and for coming to ask us first... and of course for doing well in class.

We let her go play... And Miss A, too.

I think Miss L somehow had held Miss A back.  What a good big sister.  I was so, so proud of Miss L on this day.

I write this not to boast but to remember the glimpses of my girls "getting it."  I write mostly for us.  But be encouraged... the seeds you sow will start to grow.  It's beautiful.

Sunsets

It's been quiet around here, I know.  Most who follow this blog know that my life was turned upside down with the sudden cancer diagnosis of my dad in December and then his passing away on New Year's Eve.  Usually, writing is very theraputic for me.  While there have been times that I want to write part of me doesn't want to have to "deal."  However, last night I realized that there are things that are happening that I want to remember and cherish.  I have to just deal with the emotions that come and that's okay.  Plus, I remember how much my dad liked reading whatever I wrote.  Even if it was a recipe he never really cared to try. :)

So, this was my moment I wanted to cherish...

Miss L has always found sunsets to be simply amazing.  Beautiful. Fantastic. Wow.  In general, she is enthralled with them.  I have always been the same way.  I think I got it from my dad.  It was one of his favorite parts of the day.  The other would be sunrise in his hunting camp. (ha!)  I grew up in New Mexico which has some of the most beautiful sunsets.  Arizona does a pretty good job, too.  I cannot complain. I didn't realize the rush of life or lack of sunsets until one day (a long time ago) Miss L blurted out how beautiful it was with no prompting from anyone... ever.  I almost cried.  Granted, we are not usually out much in the evening for our little ones to see the sunset I was just in awe at her own observation of the beauty of God's creation.  I always ask her who made it... she knows the answer is God.  Smart girl.

Last night as we were leaving my in law's home the sunset was awesome.  That word is so overused but it was, indeed, awesome.  Miss L immediately let out her words of jubilation at the colors and light dancing in the sky.  It  WAS beautiful.  I thought of my dad and I told Miss L how much her Grandpa T loved sunsets. That made her smile.  It was good for my soul.  I want to remember this.

Of course, I didn't take a picture.  Of course.  However, I remember a long time ago giving up on trying to take pictures of sunsets because a picture never did it justice.  Maybe I will just have to take a photo next time anyway.

Hickory Make Over

So, our mischievous mouse, Hickory, had to get a make over.  Seems like a little three year old was getting ideas and started making mischief around the house.

Now, Hickory stories go something more like this...

Once upon a time there was a little mouse named Hickory who liked to help Momma and Daddy around the house.  One day, Hickory helped Momma put the silverware away.

or...

...make the beds.
...pick up all the toys.
...do the laundry.
...mix the eggs.

It helped.

More on Hickory

...he put the grapes in the oven. (L) As I was trying to leave.
...he put the grapes in the potty. (L)
...he put the avocados in the fireplace (Daddy)
...he put the apricots in the pool (Mama)
...he put the avocados all over your shirt (L)
...he put the strawberries all over the house.  So now we have to paint it. (L)

Who is Hickory?

Minivan Musings

I always wanted a minivan.  Okay, maybe not while I was in college.  However, when I first drove a minivan for a conference in Florida I was hooked.  Although, I knew that I needed more of a reason to actually have one other than a couple of conferences a year.

Fast-forward a few years and I am married with kids.  I figured someday we would have a minivan but I thought that day would be when we were expecting child #3 as we had a SUV that worked well at the time.  Not too long after we had Miss A we got our van.  A gem of a find on Craigslist.  Needless to say, I was thrilled!  Only two kiddos and we had our van.  It would be a few months later we would find out that Miss S was on her way.  HA!

Anyway, the story of how we got our van and why is not the reason for this post.  One thing I noticed on the road is that minivan drivers sometimes were going super fast. (Or sometimes super slow)  But I would notice them fly by me at times (and I was going a bit over the limit...ahem).  I would get so uppity because they had their kids in there and they were flying by like a bat out of... well.. you know.  Compromising safety, blah, blah... like those in minivans were held to some other standard.

Well, I think I know why minivans go speeding by....

...the kids are screaming and they are just trying to get home as fast as they can because whining and crying in a car sounds about 10 decibels louder than it actually is.

...there is a preschool aged child that has frantically notified her mother that she needs to go to the bathroom and WILL NOT use a public bathroom.  She will, however, relieve herself in her car seat should you not get home fast enough.

...there is a woman in the back about to give birth.

Now, I may or may not know about one or all of these things.  Ha!  I am sure some are just driving like crazy because...well... they are.  However, these have been my musings as of late as I drove back and forth to the hospital to see Miss S.

It made me laugh.

Do you have minivan musings??

Meal Ministry

If you have never needed the blessings of a ministry through meals I say two things... a) blessings to you and b) boy, are you missing out!

However, I will have to say accepting meals from people can be a very difficult thing.  I remember while I was still single and living on my own I had been pretty sick.  A friend that lived two apartments down for me offered to make a meal for me.  In my pride, I thanked her but turned her down knowing full well that I would probably have to go pick something up somewhere because I was not up to cooking for myself.  I met with my mentor very briefly that afternoon and she basically told me that I needed to let people be generous and let them serve.  She challenged me to go back to this friend and accept the meal.  Talk about a killing of pride.  It was a good lesson.  I was blessed by my friend being so gracious and generous.  Plus, I ate a really good meal!

Fast forward to 2008 when Miss L arrived early in December of that year.  Our church at the time blessed us with an abundance of meals even though we lived almost an hour away from where most people lived.  They got creative and it was a blessing for sure.  When Miss A arrived in 2010 we were in a bit of transition but sweet friends put together meals and we were well taken care of during that time.  When Miss S arrived our church really stepped it up a notch with the meals because we were running back and forth to the hospital with her in the NICU.  And even just this week with Miss S in the hospital I find my fridge full of food because of the abundant generosity of the people around us.

However, it is a dying to self to ask for help... to ask for meals... to ask for help cleaning your home...to ask.    Why is it so hard for us to ask?  A former pastor once told me to not ask for help is denying someone the opportunity to learn how to serve others. (He said it much more elegantly)  It was a profound thought.  We don't know how to serve the body of Christ (or others) because people are too prideful to ask or they think that people are not able or will not help.  The fact is that people are willing to help.  Cheerfully!  More than one could probably ever imagine at that.

All of this came flooding back when Pastor H was visiting us in the hospital and asked if the church family could do anything else for us.  I was tempted to just suck it up and figure it out.  But there was an offer of help and this was the area I needed the most help (because grandparents were taking care of kids during the day) all I had to do was...ask...

So, I did.  Boy, were we blessed!

Needless to say, I won't be posting a meal plan this week because we have so much food left over and I still have a couple of from last week that will carry over to this week.

I encourage you to ASK for help when you need it.  When a baby comes... when a loved one passes... surgery...people are willing wanting to help.  While we as a body also need to be on the look out for areas to help people we also need to die to self and kill our pride and ask for help, too.

There Once Was A Mouse...

....named Hickory, who liked to mischief in the house.  One day Hickory took the eggs and put them in the bathtub!

Random, right?

However, these stories have become the delight of my daughter, Miss L.  Who is the beloved author?  Her Daddy!

Husband remembers his dad telling him stories of Hickory when he was little.  Those stories were a bit more involved.  Husband has created a shorter version for Miss L and they are right up her alley.  Before bed she says, "Read Hickory."  Well, they are not written down although I am trying to get as many as I can posted some place.  Husband will usually do two or three of them any time she requests.  Miss L has even gotten to the point where she makes up Hickory stories, too.  It's hilarious.

I wonder what Hickory looks like in her imagination.

Each story always starts out,

Once there was a mouse named Hickory, who liked to make mischief in the house.  One day, Hickory...

...took the avocados  and put them in the blender.

...took the cheese and put it in the doggie store.

...took the butter and put it in the sink.

You get the idea.  The more random it is the better.  Although, the doggie store is a Miss L original.  She also seems to think Hickory putting the cheese in the fridge is quite funny for some reason.  Silly.

I really need to write these down and create a book for the girls some day.  I think that it would be quite sentimental and pretty darn funny.  I think it helps spur on Miss L's imagination, too.  Good stuff and sweet memories.

Miss L's 3rd Birthday

I had grand plans for the weekend of Miss L's birthday.  On Saturday, we were going to the mall to see one of her friends from church play some Christmas music in the with her dad. Then that evening we would head to the train park and let her ride the train through the light display.  Sunday, we would go to church and have a light lunch with family.  Then after naps we would do Miss L's favorite meal of chicken nuggets, mac & cheese, and broccoli salad (she like the dried cranberries).  The evening of celebration would be concluded with cake and presents.

Yeah.  None of that happened.  And the few things that did happen were not how we originally thought they would go.  HA!

Obviously, I had a baby that weekend instead.

Plan B.

Unfortunately, no one made it to church.  The whole family had a light lunch and cake.  More than ever I was glad that we ordered a cake rather than me trying to make one.  Miss L was delighted with Angelina Ballerina.  Thankfully, Miss L cannot read right now or she would have noticed that her name was misspelled on the side of the cake.  Two L's instead of one.  Oh well.  It still was yummy!  Then after all the excitement the girls took naps.

After naps everyone came down to the hospital.  This is when the Miss L and Miss A got their first glimpse of Miss S.  Then we headed down to my hospital room to really party it up and open Miss L's presents.  It was a fun time.  The nurses got a kick out of my little caravan.  Miss L told them about her sister and that it was her birthday.  It was pretty cute.  Miss L thought my bed was pretty fun and quickly discovered that the back of my bed produced presents.  Once we were done opening them she kept looking back there to see if more had magically appeared.

After all was said an done it was getting close to dinner time.  Honestly is was hard to see everyone leave that evening.  My oldest was turning three and my youngest had just entered the world.  It was a little surreal.  I think my heart was just ready for us all to be together under one roof.

I think it's a birthday party that I will definitely remember.