Is that so wrong?

Madison has had the flu. Four weeks away from perfect attendance and sickness prevailed. I remember my mom bringing me ice chips and putting a cool, damp washcloth on my forehead when I had a fever. I was amazed at her ability to read that old mercury thermometer. I had frequent ear infections when I was little and I remember her warming my ear drops before putting them in my ear. In the middle of the night. Then she rocked me. And sang. Like she wasn't worn out and ready to get back to bed. I can feel the sway of Dad's recliner rocking and the vibration of her songs against my ear as I laid my head on her chest. She made being sick a little less miserable.

The first time I got sick as a married woman...I wanted my mom. And her couch. And her cozy quilt that was usually on the couch.

I saw a sign in my favorite little craft store, and it said, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, I am my mother, after all!" Like that would be a bad thing. I have noticed that when I remind myself of my mother I am doing something good. When I am reading some of my favorite childhood books to the kids sometimes my voice sounds more like hers than my own.

I read a quote once that said, "Instill great values in your children today and your grandchildren will prosper tomorrow." As my kids grow I often notice situations confirming that quote. So I rock the kids when they are sick - regardless of the time. I do the washcloths and ice chips. And I sing. I hope the kids miss me a little bit when they leave home. Is that so wrong?

A fork in the road

I am a deer hunter. I went with my dad as a kid. He had a thermos of coffee. I had hot chocolate. We both had honey buns. I just watched. It was calm and peaceful until we spotted a deer, and then things usually got a little more exciting. I hunted with my own gun for the first time in 1998. With Kevin. I shot a doe. I decided maybe I would rather not go for Bambi's mother anymore and I should look for the big bucks. We let the does by many times in the hopes that the big one is following them. I have killed 2 bucks since I have been married. I have killed some does as well when someone wants them to eat. I don't enjoy it so much. My blood is pumping much faster when I have big horns lined up in my scope as opposed to a graceful doe.

I have come to a fork in the road relative to deer. This morning, for the first time, there was an accident involving my vehicle and a deer. Actually two deer. A small deer ran into the sliding door in the middle of my van! Right into the side! I still think I can say I have never hit a deer because that deer hit me! 15 miles later I am pondering the intelligence and instincts of the species when ANOTHER large doe runs into my door, shattering my rear view mirror. I am thankful my mirror was all that was broken. I am thankful that it did not come through my window or Jaron's window. He was with me. And saying, "Mama, why did that deer hit our van? Mama, we need to tell my dad what that deer did to your van!" I think of all the what ifs and could have beens and I truly am grateful for a busted mirror. I will try to remain grateful when I am at the body shop this afternoon.

About that fork. There are two ways a hunter can go. Take one path and hunt for the trophies. Kevin is a trophy hunter. Unless someone asks him to get them a deer to eat. On the other path if it's brown, it's down! I have officially switched paths. I am not waiting on the Big Daddy in the brush. I am on the side of believers who say all deer need to be thinned out. So they can be healthy. So they will have enough to eat. AND so fewer of them will be in the road. I apologize to the Bambi lovers. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

On my toes

Jaron has always been more calm than his sister was at his age. He has always been more bashful. He is usually easy to take places because he will stay close to Mom and Dad until he warms up a little. Sometimes warming up takes awhile. Some time back it occurred to me that he will be four years old in June and we are beyond those terrible two's and almost finished with the independent three's. I felt so blessed that for the most part it has gone smoothly. I remember more trials with Madison. We had Jaron a month after her 2nd birthday. I had to be on my toes all the time! She finger painted on the wall with Desitin. She emptied a new bottle of Sweet Pea lotion in my bed. She painted my toilet seat lid with red finger nail polish. All when she was 2. I don't remember anything like that from Jaron at that age. You may have guessed that something was bound to change. That's what happens when a mom brags. Or thinks about bragging. That's when Kevin took him to show the neighbors a new, very rare, arrowhead he had just found...and he decided to throw it out the window, breaking it in three pieces. That's when he put a rock in his ear from the playground at preschool. Which could not be removed in the ER and had to be removed by an ENT specialist (and 3 others including myself holding Jaron down). And more recently...remember the "bashful" part...he stood up after his nap at preschool, pulled down his jeans, and said, "Hey, Miss Eva, do you like my SpongeBob underwear?" I do not condone SpongeBob. We do not watch SpongeBob at home. Someone gave him these underwear. Since they are the only ones he has I guess he thinks they're pretty special. Jaron might be a late bloomer when it comes to mischief. I guess I'll try to stay on my toes a little longer!

Precious Babies

The day I became a mother comes to me random moments at a time. There was a day and night of crazy labor, a scary c-section, and lots of drugs that were not conducive to a clear memory to document. The important things I remember are Kevin (who went white with every discussion of labor and delivery throughout my pregnancy) being my strength and my rock. His love for me had never been more clear. I treasure this picture that Jill took on Madison's birthday. It looks like God's love is shining down, pouring over them both, and I remember feeling more amazed at God's power and more blessed than I had ever known. I am planning on having some flashbacks on this site of all the things I want to remember and have access to, so I decided to post this poem that I wrote around the time of Madison's first birthday.

Precious Babies

I always knew babies were precious, soft, and sweet.
I always knew babies had the tiniest hands and feet.
I always knew babies were fun to rock and hold.
I always knew babies meant feedings, and more laundry to fold.

I thought I was very well prepared to be a mother.
I thought my baby would come and be like all the others.
I have changed my way of thinking with a baby of my own.
My feelings about babies have changed some, and grown.

I never knew my baby would be the sweetest thing I had ever seen.
I never knew she'd steal my heart without doing anything.
And her father--I never knew my love could explode for this man
Just from watching him pat her back, which was much smaller than his hand.

I never knew hearing her cry would completely break my heart.
I never knew every thought would include her, even when we're apart
I never knew the consuming peace of my baby asleep against my neck.
Or the terror of putting a hand on her back when she's sleeping, just to check.

I never knew it would be painfully wonderful as she learned to crawl and walk.
I never knew how blissful it would be hearing 'Mama' as she started to talk.
I never knew I would second guess every decision I make.
I never thought I would cry putting candles on her birthday cake.

Yes, I always knew babies were precious, soft, and sweet.
I always knew babies had the tiniest hands and feet.
I always knew babies were fun to rock and hold.
I always knew babies meant feedings, and more laundry to fold.

I know now it takes all your heart, sweat, and tears to be a mother.
And somehow my baby is more precious than any other.
I know now there is more to motherhood than anyone could foresee.
I thank God for this beautiful mixture of my husband and me.

if the tiara fits...

I wonder what the record is for the most tiaras worn simultaneously in one building. After our first Disney Princesses on Ice production in KC over Easter break I am convinced we were involved in breaking that record. I have never seen so many princesses in one place. It was like Halloween in Disneyland. I knew it would be a fun experience, but I did not expect to be inspired. The girls were so excited and felt so important and special and beautiful. I hope that feeling continues throughout their lives. I hope they continue to strive for love and beauty in their lives, both inside and out. It was an exquisite Mommy/Daughter day. It was a girl power day. It was a remember the love and romance day. It was a don't forget about your girlfriends day. We loved it. Madison had diamonds in her eyes the entire time. It was beautiful. This day is going very high up on my list of treasured memories.