Seventeen

You made me a mother seventeen years ago today. The first time I saw you I was overcome with fierce love, longing, and pride. It was the kind of love that filled me beyond capacity and made me wonder how I ever felt whole without you. I remember an overwhelming longing for you to grow up happy and healthy. For you to never know hurt and suffering. And the pride that settled deep into my chest was absolutely out of control.

I mean, at first you really didn't even have to work much for it. I was proud of you for surviving the emergency c-section and getting here in one piece. Then I was proud of your beautiful dark hair, and for looking so much like the guy I have loved since I was thirteen. Parents of babies are proud whether you are awake or asleep. When you are cutting teeth or sitting up or rolling over. Crawling, pulling up to things, walking. You were speaking in complete sentences before you were two. The love, longing, and pride has stayed with me throughout every step you have taken. You started learning skills that required a little more finesse than toddling through the living room without falling down. Reading and writing. Throwing and catching a ball. Making a basket. One of the strangest things is watching your child do things you cannot even do yourself...such as playing the piano. Or throwing things in track. Of course I continue to be proud of you for all of that but sometimes it goes beyond the things you have learned to do and it is more about the way you do them.

I know you have always been smart and you have always worked hard, but lately you have really started demonstrating true grit in all of your endeavors, and I know this will serve you well in everything you ever try to do. Watching you set goals and achieve them is one of my favorite things. Watching you face adversity and overcome it is phenomenal. Situations that use to cause you panic are now causing you to strengthen your resolve. When you put in those long nights for your STAR event and were sleep deprived and stressed, I said you didn't have to do it if you didn't want to. You did it. And you did such a great job you are going to compete in Nationals. At the sectional track meet, it was cold and raining, and you threw that shot put like it was any other day. In the javelin, you scratched on your first two throws and then maintained enough poise to launch your final attempt far enough to punch your ticket to the state track meet.

The pride that I felt on the day you were born is something that has never left me. Sometimes I look at you and I am in awe that you are my daughter. You are a better kid than I was. You work harder and your heart is bigger. Sometimes your determination leaves me speechless. I have always enjoyed watching you learn things and improve, but I have come to really appreciate the way you give your best effort when things are not ideal. When the weather is bad, or you have the stomach flu, or you are going on little to no sleep. I am most proud when you manage to come out and do great things on those days. Life is not always sunny and seventy-five. Adulting is not for sissies, but you prove to me constantly that you will handle whatever is thrown your way and do your best in spite of it. Adversity causes people to crumble or shine and when it happens to you I have to wear shades. My chest aches with pride and fierce love for the beautiful woman you have become. Happy Birthday, Madison! May seventeen be your best year yet.

Birthday Girl

We have always said of Megan that she is our most emotional child. Our drama queen. She tends to cry sometimes in the morning when fashion tells her to wear shorts and a tank top and the weather forecast tells her to wear jeans and a hoodie. When she is happy, her laughter reaches out and grabs everyone around her. When she is sad, she is down on the floor with her cheek against the hard wood. Her chatter cannot be contained when she is excited, and her anger tends to present itself with deliberate foot steps that can be heard from a pretty good distance.

I don't know if that really makes her emotional or if she just feels things very deeply. I can tell you that when she loves you, her love wraps itself around you and hangs on for dear life. It can pull you out of the worst of moods. She will support and encourage you until she doses off to sleep in exhaustion from her efforts. If she loves you, she is your number one fan and helper and her commitment to you is off the charts. There is no halfway with Megan Joleen. She runs like someone is chasing her, she sings like she is on American Idol, and she dances like she is trying out for a music video. She may be the smallest member of our family, but she is definitely a go big or go home kind of girl. Things tend to be black or white for Megan. Right or wrong. Good or bad. She does not have much patience for anything in between...and she seldom hesitates to share her thoughts about it. I love it that you always know where you stand with her.

This year, she loves riding her bike and playing softball. She is happiest when she is in charge, so she tries to maintain authority at every opportunity. Her favorite TV shows are Henry Danger and the Thundermans. She loves helping with anything, and she believes the themed dress up days at school are a big deal. She is always prepared with a hairband around her wrist, and time with family and sleepovers with friends rate high on her list. It is such a joy and privilege to watch her become the person she will be. The person she already is. Happy Birthday, Megan Joleen! I am so proud to have a daughter with a heart as big as her dreams!

Megan's 6th Birthday

My baby is six years old. She is one step closer to being as big as she feels. For her birthday we had a party in her classroom, where I took cupcakes and treat bags for her to pass out to all of her friends.

To continue with the celebration, she also had her first sleepover outside of family. Jaron felt a lot more outnumbered with yet another girl in the house. The girls watched movies, played dress up, and talked and giggled nonstop during every waking moment. 

 We took the kids out to eat Mexican food and they embarrassed her a little bit there as they sang to her and placed the sombrero on her head. 

She went home with Grandma Judy after school on the day of her birthday, and they partied so hard that she fell asleep on her couch before 7:00. Megan quickly learned that being six is actually exhausting. When I went to pick her up after Jaron's basketball practice, she looked like this:

Right now, she loves anything from the Frozen movie. She loves to sing and being in charge. Megan wins the medal in our house for the most emotional child. Hands down. Wherever she goes and whatever she does, she seems to be ALL IN. She continues to be her brother and sister's biggest fan, to the point that she tends to clap and cheer when her brother makes a basket...even if it is during warm ups. She loves school and complains that holiday breaks are too long because she just wants to learn! She is a worker bee whether helping Mom and Dad or doing crafts. I hope she continues to embrace her energetic personality and approach all areas of her life with gusto. Someday, when she really is as big as she feels, she could do great things.   

Dances and Sparkle

My daughter went to her first formal school dance Friday night.  I have not given a lot of thought to formal dances for almost a couple of decades. She had a friend over so they could get ready and go to the dance together. I think the theme for the dance must have been sparkle. Looking at her, I could see sparkle on her dress, her hairpins, her shoes, and in her eyes. I am really enjoying this age. This prelude to the teen years where her biggest decisions have to do with which dress and shoes to wear to the dance, or whether to go with curls or straight hair. I can't help but wish this time would pass a little more slowly. Honestly, I wish it for myself, but I wish it for her, too. Her decisions are not going to get any easier as time marches on. I wish I could bottle up some of this sparkle from these first dances and save it for her to have later on in life!

Back to School 2014

When I was young, I marked the passage of time by the year. Maybe because I had fewer years in my memory to keep track of, or maybe because each year encompassed such obviously distinct memories. Each year was distinguished by its own grade in school, teachers, coaches, friendships, teammates, championships. As I get older, I mark the passage of time by events. I remember when things happened because it was before we got married, or after we had Madison. When the big kids were small. When I was expecting Jaron. When Megan was in diapers. Before I lost my grandparents. When I was in college. When Kevin hurt his back.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I have been dreading this day when my baby goes to kindergarten for about five years. On my timeline in my memory, things that happen for awhile now will be officially known as "when all the kids were in school." There have been times over the last couple of years when I have questioned my ability to survive this moment when I put all three of my children on the bus and send them to school. The moment when I would have to let my baby go and wonder if she is ready. I thought I would probably be traumatized, and maybe I would cry a little. I wasn't. I didn't.

It helps that she has been begging to go to school for at least two years, and she has been excited about getting to ride the school bus for even longer than that. But mostly, I think it was easy for me because she has this amazing big sister who loves her and watches out for her with such devotion that watching it in action makes my eyes burn and my throat ache on a regular basis. She is such a great kid to lead the way for Megan. And she has a brother who's got her back, I mean, when someone else is bothering her. I realize now it was much harder on me to send Madison all alone when she went to kindergarten. I know my baby is in good hands, and the act of sending her to school for her very first day was a piece of cake, really. So all of the kids are in school. They will all learn and grow and make wonderful memories in the very same place their parents and grandparents did.  I am looking forward to being with them throughout all of these experiences, but I am not naive to the fact that these years will fly by faster than I can imagine. There will be many days when I will try to slow the sand as it plummets through the hourglass. Those days will probably not be pieces of cake. I just wonder if I am ready.    

Pause

I had another birthday, and I am grateful beyond words. I was fortunate enough to have two handsome dates take me out to a nice dinner, and I also got to celebrate with family, friends, and fireworks. But I have to tell you, this birthday gave me a moment of pause...more so than any other year. Thirty-six. It is just that thirty-six seems so much closer to forty than thirty. And it is not that I think forty is old. Lord knows I remember when I did think that, but not anymore. I see the lines around my eyes in the mirror, and I know how often I break out that new box of Nice 'n Easy hair color, but those things really don't bother me at all. The sobering fact of the matter is that I have always believed that by the time I was forty I would really have things all figured out. I thought I would be the person I always wanted to be. I thought I would truly feel like a grownup. A woman who always keeps her cool, who writes everything on her calendar and checks it every single day. I was going to be that mom who had figured out the perfect balance of work, family, and activities. I thought I would always be on time and never forget anything. I thought I would know exactly what I was doing when it comes to parenting, and second guessing myself would be a thing of the past.

Not so much.

The truth is, I still speak my mind when I should have the composure to keep some things to myself. I still call some of my favorite people for advice or encouragement on a regular basis (Shout out to Mom, Vanita, and Aunt Cathy!). And it is impossible to completely master motherhood. Every time I start to feel like I am exactly the mother I want to be, the kids evolve into a new stage of life. Each stage brings joy and excitement, but it also tends to present some new challenges and a little bit of heartache. And the older my kids get, the more questions they ask me that I do not know the answers to. I am genuinely surprised when I have to buy my daughter real bras during our back to school shopping, or when I look out the window to see my son in safety goggles with a weed eater in his hands. The truth is, I can catch my husband's eyes over the heads of our children, and I can remember the first time he asked me to dance like it was twenty-three days ago, not twenty-three years. All I am saying is that this life is flying by just a little too fast. And I think maybe the one thing I know for sure is that instead of wasting time trying to figure things out, I need to focus on enjoying every moment!

Turning Ten

Jaron did not remember much about his birthday last year. He even wrote something in school about how I forgot to have a party for him or something. We did a small, family celebration but it did not register as very cool for him I guess. His birthday falls during a busy time of year, but after last year's disappointment I made the decision that I need to be more dedicated to giving him some awesome birthday memories!

I let him decide the activities and guest list. After debating between a fishing derby or a sports medley, he decided to go with sports. He asked me if he could invite his baseball team, his cousins, and his girlfriend. We had ballgame food: nachos and hot dogs. I mean, in the middle of summer none of us have had enough ballgame food, right? Of course there were cupcakes, ice cream, and Grandma Willams' punch. They played wiffle ball, basketball, kickball, and badminton, and he could not keep the smile off of his face throughout the party! With the heat, humidity, homecoming, and holiday, we were all elated that so many of the kids made it to his party. I think he will remember turning ten.

On the way home he told me his party was awesome. "The best birthday ever." SUCCESS! Won't that make for a better journal entry in fifth grade? I have always said about Jaron, from the time he was a baby, that all he needs to be happy is something to eat and something to do. It still holds true. I hope even when he is grown with responsibilities that he always takes time to have some fun on his birthday, and that he tries to spend it with his favorite people. I hope every year from now on brings him his best birthday ever! Love this kid!

Birthday Lake House Sleepover

Madison is twelve years old. For her birthday this year, we had a sleepover retreat at the lake house. My mom put a black light in the basement where they danced away in neon colors and laughed at what the light did to their teeth. The girls also went fishing, fixed each other's hair, watched movies into the wee hours of the morning, and chowed down on sleepover snacks.  Jaron took their fish off the hooks for them. The next day, Grandma Judy made her traditional initial pancakes for them...just like she did for most of my birthday parties.

Ninety-nine percent of the time, Madison is such a good kid. For the most part she gets her homework done and stays on top of her schoolwork without any help from me. Kevin and I talk a lot about her soft heart. While I worry it will hurt her someday, it makes her a blessing to our family. Right now she helps out tremendously with chores around the house and taking care of animals and her little brother and sister. Right now she still thinks I am a great mom and that I know what I am talking about. I could not be happier about when her Aunt Cathy questioned her via email about any boys who might be catching her eye, she said, "I do have a great love. Its name is Basketball!"

Everyone tells me the next few years of parenthood will be a challenge. I am holding my breath a little. Not so much for myself but for this group of girls as they survive the tween age. People can tell you how quickly time passes, but it does not sink in until you feel it for yourself. When your child is going into Junior High. School dances, athletics, and a class schedule with a locker. When your daughter trades recess for P.E. and barbies for makeup and a cell phone. Lord help me. It is not easy figuring out how to reconcile dresses and softball cleats, or painted nails and game faces. The balance in trying to be both feminine and tough is delicate and not easily achieved. I think about Madison and her friends, and how they are beginning to figure things out and find their places in this world. My biggest hope for them is that they realize what extraordinary young ladies they are. I look at this group and I see potential and possibilities. I look forward to sharing the future with them and watching them grow into the ladies I know they can be! Happy Birthday, Madison! May you always be a girl with brains, and woman with attitude, and a lady with class!!

Finally Five

Megan has been wishing to be five for a minimum of two years. For at least as long, she has cried on the first day of school when two of her favorite people climbed onto the big yellow bus without her. Each time this has happened, I just picked her up and let her cry on my shoulder until she was done.

I see myself most in Megan. Most people think she resembles me, but what I am talking about goes beyond that. We are both the youngest, and look up to our big brother and sister. We cheer when they do well. She loves to take her baby dolls wherever she goes. I have many pictures of myself, with baby Tish in my arms, and then Lina Angie, my Cabbage Patch doll. Megan is emotional, bossy, sassy, and is on the move at all times unless she is sleeping. She does not hesitate to speak her mind. I have to remind this child almost every day that she is not my boss and that I tell her what to do...not the other way around. Kevin and I often wonder how it happens to be that our smallest child seems to be the loudest. Shakespeare wrote, "And though she be but little, she is fierce." I plan to put that on the wall in her room.

You know how most girls go through a princess phase? Not Megan. When she puts on a tiara, she pretends that she is the queen. Five years have flown by like a summer vacation. At five, Megan loves to sing along with the current hits station, or the movie Frozen. She loves going to ballgames, playing with her baby dolls, taking selfies, and being in charge. Her favorite shows on TV are Little Bear and Doc McStuffins. I hope she loves going to big school as much as she thinks she will. Maybe that will make it a little easier on her mama when faced with sending her on that big bus each morning! Happy Birthday, Megan! I know you are ecstatic to finally be five!

Ode to Stan the Man

When it comes to in-laws, all we can really do is roll the dice. We have little control over the extended family members we come to share our lives with. We can hope to have a lot in common with them, but that is not always the case. At the very least we can hope to share with them a love and devotion to the person who has bound us together...but even that does not hold true in every family. We can choose what type of relationship we want to have with our in-laws. In some cases, in-laws are welcomed with open arms, like family. Sometimes, in-laws seldom speak to each other, like strangers.
Stan has been my brother-in-law since I was twelve years old. I probably did not give it much thought when I was younger. I guess in my mind he had kind of always been there, and I thought of him as another brother. Early on in he and Vanita's married life, I would go to their house for sleepovers. My sister would do my nails, and we would watch movies, and they always had my favorite pop and snacks. What's to think about? It worked for me!

I have witnessed many things over the years to make me appreciate the fact that Vanita chose him to add to our family. Things that seem simple but should not be overlooked. Everyone thought it was sweet when he held her hand and sang to her during their wedding. When I think about the decades that have passed since that day, and I picture my sister, it is almost always with Stan by her side. He also held her hand when their sons were born, and when some of my favorite people were buried. I appreciate his honesty, and I have all the faith in the world that he tries hard to do the right thing whenever he can. For his family, for my family, and for his community. He is one of the most level-headed guys I know, and he is one of those guys that you can call when you need help, and he will show up. He has shown us over the last few years that when he said, "In sickness and in health," it was a vow he took seriously. I hope he feels like we treat him like family...even if that means we give him a hard time once in awhile. I am glad he is like a brother to me, and I am glad he is a good uncle to my children. I am grateful that he is a good father to my nephews, but most of all, I am glad he is good to my sister. All we ever really want for our loved ones is for them to choose good people to share their lives with. To share our lives with. In honor of his birthday, I just wanted to say that I am pretty sure Stan the Man is one of the good guys! Good job, Sis!

Jaron's Birthday Post

Last year for Jaron's birthday we went all out with the huge pool party, so this year we took the more traditional, private route. My grandparents always made a two-layer cake with sprinkles and delivered it on our birthdays when I was growing up, so I made him one of those. Chocolate, of course. He had a baseball game that day,  and it was the Atlanta Homecoming weekend. With Kevin was working six days a week, the hay fields, garden, and animals, we could not figure out how or when to squeeze in a big party with friends.

Jaron is nine years old, and he is all boy. He loves to fish, hunt, and play sports. He almost always takes his dad's side. I have to harass him on occasion to bathe properly and brush his teeth. Sometimes I have to pry the video games from his hands to get him to be productive. We got him a new bike for his birthday. Two days after he got it, I glanced out the kitchen window to catch him washing it with a bucket of soapy water. I am pretty sure he is always going to be most comfortable surrounded by the familiar. While he wants to be involved, he would rather not be the center of attention. The way to his heart is through his stomach. Feed him and he will love you forever. His favorite show on TV right now is Duck Dynasty, and his favorite movie he has watched lately is the Avengers.

Happy Birthday, Jaron! I love your sense of humor, your big, brown eyes, and your laid back personality. I hope this year finds you happy, healthy, and surrounded by all of your favorite people...and your sisters! XOXO

The First Slumber Party

It is no secret that our house is on the small side. I have hesitated in the past to let Madison have lots of friends over at one time, because there is simply not much space for them, and there is no place in this house where they could go that their constant giggles would not be heard at all hours of the day and night.  I knew there would be lots of giggles.

We recently acquired some chickens, and while we were building a house for them, we decided to make it bigger than necessary so the building could double as storage. We got the building almost done, but did not need to put the chickens inside immediately, so I told Madison she could have a slumber party, as long as they would like to camp outside in the chicken house. She jumped at the opportunity.

I remember slumber parties when I was young. I remember trying to camp in tents with my friends...in someone's yard or next to our pond, and the group of us wimping out and sneaking inside before morning on more than one occasion. There were times we ended up sleeping on a trampoline under the stars, or lined up across someone's living room floor. I remember a dad lighting fireworks in the yard to scare us in the wee hours of the morning, resulting in a hole in the wet banana (slip 'n slide to the younger generation) that we had to dodge the next day. I know that a cow's moo is amplified at 3:00 in the morning, and I have learned that if you decide to set up your sleepover tent on a hillside--in the morning you and all of your friends will wake up downhill and crowded. It occurred to me that Madison is not going to have any memories like these if she does not get to have the same kinds of experiences.

As far as slumber parties go, I thought I was prepared. I had the food and cake. I put a TV and DVD player in the building for a little Twilight Movie Marathon. I gave them a cell phone to keep out there in case they got scared or needed to come inside during the night. I ended up getting more texts saying things like, "Could we have more nachos?" Or popcorn...or drinks...or cake. I am not going to lie, these girls ate like linebackers. There was more wrestling and less fingernail painting than I had anticipated, and I have to say these girls are tough. Not one of them ended up in my living room floor before morning as I expected.

Madison's first slumber party was different in a lot of ways from the ones I remember. Some things have changed in twenty years. Their building, with doors, windows, and locks, was probably an upgrade from our old tents. We never had the whole TV/DVD/Cell Phone package when we were camping. There are some things that do not change in two decades, though. When I went out to check on them in the morning, I couldn't help but think it looked exactly the same. Happy Birthday, Madison! May your childhood hold many treasured memories shared with your friends.

1993

2013

Santa and Jesus

I remember watching a movie with Madison when she was a preschooler. It was that animated movie about the horses, Spirit. It starts out with a colt being born. Madison looked up from my lap, blinking her big, blue eyes and said, "Mommy, will your belly get that big when you have my baby brother or sister?" I tried to hide my surprise when I informed her that there may not be another brother or sister. I told her she already had a brother, and our family may remain the four of us.  She shook her head and said, "No, I'm having another baby brother or sister. I've already asked Jesus."

She did not forget about wanting another sibling. In kindergarten she wrote a letter to Santa that was published in the newspaper. It said, "I would like a baby brother or sister for Christmas. I'm getting one, too, but my mom doesn't know it yet."  As we all know, in first grade she got her baby sister. Once in awhile, when she is especially frustrated with Megan, I remind her, "You are the one who asked Santa and Jesus for her."

Four years have flown by like a summer. Whoever said the days are long but the years are short had to be a mom. This girl is growing up in the same way she does most things in her life...FAST and LOUD! Somehow our smallest child seems to make the most noise. Questions and observations flow from this girl in every waking moment all day long. She is like a sponge right now, soaking up everything around her like she just came in from the desert. She loves baby dolls, Dora, and Little Bear. She sings a new song every week. She knows songs from church or her little shows on TV, but she also sings Call Me, Maybe, several Taylor Swift songs, Girl on Fire, and some Maroon 5. She loves to have pretty nails and a flower in her hair. She is happiest when wearing chopstick (aka chap stick), boots, and a tutu. She dribbles a basketball to keep up with the big kids, she bats lefty, and she runs like the wind with her hair flying behind her. She climbs all over her daddy like he is her personal jungle gym, and she is still my biggest fan.

I think she is most excited about turning four because she knows five will be next, and that is the key to getting on that big yellow bus with her favorite brother and sister. When I told her we were making cupcakes to take to Auntie Barb's for a party with her friends, she said, "Yes! I will take cupcakes and party hats!" Because those are the necessities when it is time to party. She helped me make the cupcakes in her little apron. She said, "If my friends don't know who bringed these, I will tell them. When I get there in my number four shirt, Auntie Barb will be so happy!"

When bedtime came on the night before her birthday, Megan asked, "So after I lay down I'll be four?" I told her that was right. She said, "After tomorrow when I lay down will I be three?" I told her that no, she would stay four. She wanted to know why. I had to swallow past the lump in my throat at my first thought. She will never be three again. Sigh. Happy Birthday, Megan! I love you and your constant chatter. I love your fearlessness, brutal honesty, abundant joy, and fierce loyalty to your family. You bless our family every single day with light, love, and laughter. Thank goodness for Santa and Jesus!

One of my good days...

I don't write an abundance of posts about my husband. As a rule, he is not a huge fan of all of his business going public. I probably don't talk about him enough. I probably don't talk to him enough. I believe we are in that stage of our marriage where sometimes we have to make an effort to have an actual conversation.  I still like him most days, but there are chores, animals, sports events, piano lessons, spilled drinks, and homework all vying for our attention at every turn. Those things come when we are not working at our day jobs. Sometimes I have to remind myself that all of these things began with us. That we need to talk about more than whether or not we need dog food or bread once in a while.

He recently turned thirty-five years old. We had a Chiefs birthday cake, and they thanked us by winning in overtime that day. In honor of his birthday, I wanted to be sure to stop and be grateful for him.  I know if you look at him on any given day, you will see a guy in Carhartt jeans and a t-shirt. Don't let him fool you. He may look predictable, but he is a man of many layers. His iPod has a lot of old country music on it, but you will also find rap. He believes in doing most things the old fashioned way, but he gets online every day to keep updated on his favorite websites. He can really tear up the kitchen, but he cooks fish like a rock star, and can make pie crust or cinnamon rolls from scratch. He believes in traditional values and fair fights. He believes in taking care of his family and his animals. He takes time for his children, and he makes me laugh almost every day. I try hard to make good decisions, but some days I don't always do the right thing.  I make mistakes on a pretty regular basis. I guess I am just saying that I am pretty sure the day I said yes to this guy was one of my good days.

Back to School

Like every other first day of school, I was filled with high hopes.  Hope for the kids to have a wonderful year in school, and for them to learn all kinds of profound things. Hope for them to enjoy their friends and make good use of all of their shiny new school supplies. I hope this year I really remember everything.  Everything a mom needs to remember when her kids are in the fifth and third grades. Once again, I have a new bulletin board system with a huge family calendar with lines on it. I plan to fill those lines with all of those mundane details I usually think I will remember, only to forget a few days (or hours) after reading them.  I don't want to survive this school year, I want to embrace it. I want to be all over signing the permission slips and homework planners. I want to have a firm grasp on everything. Book report deadlines and test dates.  Lunch money and book order forms. Spelling words and math flash cards. Basketball schedules and piano lessons. Cupcakes for party days.  This could be the year I have it all together.  I have a nagging fear that if I do not master the calendar by the time Megan joins her brother and sister in school, there may be no hope for me after that!

Megan was devastated by the first day of school this year.  As I was busy packing backpacks for the older kids the week before, she ran into the room with her fuzzy purple backpack and her patent leather mary janes. She pushed them down into the bag and said, "Here, Mommy, I've got my gym shoes!" Many times I explained that she would not be able to go with her brother and sister on the big bus to school this time, but I don't think she believed me.  She kept standing up to show me how big she was.  She continued to pack her backpack and get ready for school like everyone else. She was all caught up in the first day excitement, and she held tight to her sister in the hopes that Madison would take her with her.  And then the bus came.  When Madison and Jaron started walking away, Megan looked like this:

I had to pick her up to keep her from following them. Her heart was broken, and I let her cry on my shoulder until she was done.  She did not say a word during the fifteen minute drive to the babysitter, and she did not sing even though her favorite song came on the radio. It is not easy being little.  It is hard to watch the people you love most moving on with their lives, and leaving you behind.  Sometimes that's not so easy to watch when you are big, either.

Dogs, Dads, Deer, and Baseball

This year for Jaron's birthday we rented a public pool and invited many friends and family members. He quickly reported it was his best party ever. He bravely jumped off of the high dive countless times, and mostly swam out in the deep water (with his dad close by).  I think there will be more pool parties in our future! I don't really need to write a detailed post about the things Jaron is into this year as he turns eight.  The truth is, his cake says it all.  I asked him to choose the picture he would like to put on his birthday cake, and he asked me if he could choose more than one.  He settled on these:

He told me he would like the most recent picture of his dog, Dixie, his big buck deer (making sure it was the one that also had Dad and his big buck deer), and his baseball team.  I said, "How about that picture of you and I in our baseball shirts?" He cocked his head to the side as he considered that idea, and slowly shook his head as he replied, "Nah. And I don't really want my sisters on it either."  I know deep down he loves us, but I also realize Moms are really not that cool when you are eight.  Not as cool as dogs, dads, deer, and baseball buddies. Not unless you are hurt, hungry, or something is lost.  It's okay. I can be here when he needs me, and be grateful he has friends, a pet he loves, and a dad to teach him how to become a man. Those are the things that matter most to Jaron these days, and that means those things matter to me!  I really do love watching him come out of his shell and jump into his favorite things with both feet, just like he jumps into the pool. Deep down, though, I am hoping next year I make it on the cake!

Double Digits

Madison has been talking about turning double digits for awhile now.  There is something about being ten that feels very grown up to her. The day I became a mother, ten years ago, was one of the most frightening days of my life.  There was the whole first time being in labor thing, followed by a surgery that we did not think I would survive.  Horrific. Surgical. Experience. I should know, now that I have had three of them.  Even so, we all know about the blessed outcome. I forgot the scary parts of that day so quickly, I was willing to do it again a short two years later.  I think some of the best things in life come with the most struggle and fear.  That is how we know what matters.  I remember the gut-clenching terror the moment I realized my dad had let go of the back of my shiny, new bike, which was instantly replaced by exhiliration as my hair was flying behind me in the breeze, and my house and yard flew past me in a blur. I remember that feeling way more than the times I lost control of my bike.  That is what it felt like when Madison was born.  Terror followed by the sweetest slice of joy and contentment that I had ever known. 

I am so proud of the person Madison is becoming.  If I were the kind of mom that brags, I would say that I am proud of all of her advanced scores on her testing.  I would tell you about all of the times she catches me off guard with the random facts that she remembers.  I would probably talk about how beautifully she plays the piano, and how much I admire her bravery as she performs for a gym full of family, friends, and strangers.  I would probably mention how she reads at a high school level, but still takes time to read Dr. Seuss to her sister.  I would admit that sometimes she sets an example for me with her devotion to Jesus although I know it should be the other way around. I would also talk about how much I enjoy her enthusiasm for sports, and how bewildered I am at the ribbons on her artwork when I can't draw a stick man.  But since I am not that mom, I will tell you that I have been thankful for my Madison Rose every single day for the last decade.  I love her big heart, determination, and her beautiful blue eyes.  She is a wondrous mixture of barbies and iPods. Softball cleats and sparkly dress shoes.  Camoflauge and fingernail polish. Dirt on her face and flowers in her hair.  She loves reading, basketball and softball, church, family and friends, baking, playing the piano, and being a big sister (most of the time).

We made a day of her birthday celebration this year.  She was baptized in our little church that day, and she played the invitational hymn, I Have Decided to Follow Jesus, on the piano.  It was a proud day for her dad and I, and we were all surrounded by friends and family. Happy Birthday, Madison Rose!  May every decade of your life bring you all the joy, love, and contentment that you have brought to mine!

Megan's Birthday Post

My baby turned three years old over the weekend.  I guess I should probably stop calling her my baby soon.  Mostly, Megan takes care of her own babies these days. She enjoys nothing more than Dora the Explorer and caring for her babies.  She has this little purse that she calls her baby bag that she likes to carry around with her.  At all times, it is stocked with bottles of juice and milk, a baby spoon and bowl, and a plastic slice of pizza.   She feeds her baby any time, day or night, whether she is hungry or not.  She could be an amazing mother. 

I had a hard time deciding what to record about her on her third birthday.  She is so everywhere, all the time...how could I go about pinning down the most adorable personality traits to share? I want to remember everything, because every single day she makes me laugh out loud, and she makes me feel like the most important person in the world.   

When Megan gets hungry, she asks me what I am fixing for breakfast.  Breakfast is any meal, any time of day.  Sandwich is a word she struggles to say in the most adorable way...to such an extent that her dad and I try bring her into any conversation involving sandwiches so we can hear her say, "swamich."  I frequently find her searching for an animal in trouble, and she sings and speaks more Spanish than I knew in high school. I have started to notice that when she sings, it always seems to be on key, and when she plays the piano, it is always very proper, and one note at a time.  She is our biggest fan.  By that, I mean that she applauds us. She applauds whether I am using the bathroom(Yay, Mommy!  I clap for you!) or fixing her plate, or putting her drink in her favorite cup.  She claps when Madison plays a basketball game or the piano, when Kevin gets a bale of hay for the cattle, or when Jaron catches a baseball.  Several times a day, when thinking of Madison and Jaron, she asks for her sissy and her buddy, and nothing lights her up more than the big bus at our driveway, magically delivering them safely home from school. 

When I carry Megan in her sleepy moments, she fits perfectly against my shoulder, with her little arms wrapped snugly around my neck and her feet around my waist.  I like to think she enjoys this arrangement as much as I do, because when she starts getting drowsy, she asks if she can lay on my "shouder." I always say yes.  She uses "can't" instead of "don't" in many situations.  "I can't like broccoli.  I can't want to go night-night!" She is afraid of teenage boys.  She bosses little boys around, and she thinks grown-up boys are okay, but she seldom speaks to a teenage boy.  She gets sober and skeptical when they are around.  I have accused my nephews of taking candy from her when she was little, but I have gotten no confessions out of them.  I think she could avoid teenage boys for several more years and her dad and I would not mind at all! Happy Birthday, Megan Joleen!  You bring us much love, light, laughter, and joy, and our lives have been richly blessed by having you in our little family.

The Monster

This year is the first time Jaron got to go deer hunting. We got him his very own Weatherby 22-250, and I don't know what scope, and he has been target practicing with his dad. Because Madison was also going, we had to split up this time. We decided to do a little boys vs. girls, so Kevin took Jaron and I took Madison. Kevin built a shooting table for him, and we set up two separate hunting blinds in two separate fields. We hunted Saturday morning and evening without seeing anything but squirrels, turkeys, and birds. Not conducive to shooting big bucks, but very conducive to sharing hot chocolate, snacks, and jokes.

On the Sunday evening hunt, Madison and I saw several deer, but not when we were able to get a shot off. I received a text from Kevin that said, "We have deer." I heard a shot in the distance, shortly followed by, "Big buck down." I did not get to personally witness this historic moment with Jaron, but he has told me the story repeatedly, along with some reenactment and sound effects. He only had to shoot once. He mentions that a lot. He told everyone, "I shot a big buck. He was a monster!" The Monster Buck had eight points, and was twenty and a half inches wide. And Jaron has walked a little taller ever since.

Don't Judge Me.

I am not going to lie about it. I was ready for school to start this year. I am not saying my children are being rowdy and getting on my nerves. I am not wishing for them to grow up even more quickly than the years are flying by already. I enjoy ballgames and swimming, and not having to adhere to bedtimes just like the next mom, but for me, summer is by far the most chaotic season of the year. I try to spend quality time with the family. I try to get enough hours in at work to make it worth paying triple my normal babysitting fee. Don't forget about the garden, the sports, the canning...the three kids in the back of my Impala everywhere I go occasionally chiming in with the, "He's touching me!" woes. Summer is filled with many late nights followed by early mornings, and over time they simply wear us out!! The part of me that wants you to believe I am an awesome mom wants to say I have been dreading this day and I hate to see them begin a new, more grown up year. But I haven't and I don't. I'm just saying I was ready for school to start. I have had the kids' bags waiting by the door, packed with bright, shiny, labeled items, for almost three weeks. I am excited about the teachers the kids will have(there will be more blogging about that), and I am glad to relax back into a predictable routine. My bulletin board, white board, and homework station are all ready to go. I am ready to deliver my sleepy toddler to and from her sitter in peace, and hear all about the wonderful things the big kids are learning when I get home. Happy, happy first day of school! :)

Don't judge me.