Viva Las Vegas!

When we got married we said we would return to Las Vegas every five years or so. Well, five years went by like a holiday weekend, and in the meantime I had all but forgotten about those plans. I never even brought it up. I don't know if I have mentioned before that my husband is generally opposed to spending money in most situations. Relative to some of my purchases, he sometimes feels obligated to question the level of necessity involved. So Kevin came home from work one day and said, "I think we should go to Las Vegas." I laughed. I mean, usually when we take a trip, I plan everything and I calculate the cost and it usually takes some convincing. When Kevin mentions a trip involving airfare, hotel, and shows...the only explanation I can come up with is that he is joking with me. Except he wasn't. He began researching travel and airline websites. He chose the hotel we liked the most when we were there before. He planned this trip. My girlfriend said, "I think the fact that this is all his idea is just as big of a deal as the fact that you are going!" So true. I am not going to lie about it, I felt guilty for leaving the kids for five days. Excluding them from the fun and imposing on the family...almost like I should be hot lined. But after packing all of the bags and saying all of the goodbyes, the real excitement began to set in. I quickly reasoned that extra time with Grandma was hardly punishment for them and began to think about what this would mean for us. How strangely liberating it was to be able to travel and make decisions based solely on whatever we would like to do! We could eat anywhere without considering the kids' menu. We could be gone from our hotel all day without worrying about having enough diapers or extra changes of clothes. There were no worries about naptime or strollers.

We saw everything we could see. We saw the pirate show at Treasure Island and the dancing fountains at the Bellagio. We saw Criss Angel's "Believe" show up close and personal at the Luxor and went to Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay. We went on a tour of Hoover Dam. We visited Lake Mead. We shopped. We swam. We said hello to Pete Rose. The real person...not an impersonator. We ate when we were hungry, and we slept when we were tired. We talked about the things the kids would have enjoyed and the things they definitely would not have enjoyed. We walked a lot. We took the city bus and the monorail. We remembered our wedding trip and marvelled about all the changes that have taken place over the past decade. It was an awesome trip. Trust me, there are several scrapbook pages just waiting to happen right now.

Daddy Doesn't Read Books

I keep a book in my purse almost all the time. I read when I am waiting at the doctor or dentist, the license bureau, and during lunchtime at work. Just this week, I read a book on the plane to and from Las Vegas and while waiting at the airport. I love to read books. Kevin does not. His faithful reading includes some news websites for serious Kansas City Chiefs fans. He checks those sites every single day without fail. He knows which KC players had the fastest running times...and who is wearing out their shoes with their quickness...and who caught how many balls in training camp...and who did not. Every day he knows this. However, he seldom reads a book.

Megan is starting to love books. I love how she seems to show preference and choose her favorite ones. Number one on the list is "Eight Silly Monkeys." She takes this book to everyone in the house, regardless of what they might be doing, and hands it to them over and over again until someone reads it to her. Madison and Jaron are usually close by and cooperative when she wants to read. They were outside one day when Megan discovered that Daddy will read to her as well. I was cooking in the kitchen when I heard Kevin say, "Megan, Daddy doesn't read books." Shortly after that I heard, "Eight silly monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and bumped his head." Well, this quickly became the pattern, and she was hooked. Now, when Daddy is in the house, she takes the book to him. He can be snoozing in his recliner, and she will climb up onto his lap, open the book, and wait expectantly for him to wake up and read. He always begins by saying, "Daddy doesn't read books." And then he does. The thing is, when our kids want a little bit of time with their daddy, he can't help but give it to them. It's one of my favorite things...the fact that Daddy does read books.

All She Ever Wanted

This is the first picture taken of us as a married couple, outside of our wedding photos. I handed my camera to a stranger on top of the Stratosphere in Las Vegas the day after we got married. We have been married eleven years today. Our wedding was a compromise. He truly wanted to be married all by ourselves, such as at the courthouse. I wanted my grandma to make my wedding dress, and I wanted pictures. We both got our wishes. I got my other wish as well. You know, the one where you marry the person you love. The one where eleven years, two homes, and three kids later you still like each other most of the time. The girl in this picture had no idea what marriage would really be like. She thought she loved her new husband, but she had no idea that the sad times and scary moments would be the ones to strengthen their relationship the most. She had no idea how thoroughly bringing children into the world together could multiply her feelings for him. She had yet to hold his hand at a loved one's funeral or watch him approach her carrying their daughter, with both little arms encircling his neck and her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She had yet to watch him playing baseball with the big kids in the yard after a long, hot day at work. The last eleven years have found her richly blessed with love, laughter, and family. I am confident those are all of the things the girl in this picture ever wanted.

I Like Him Handsome

In one of my favorite books, New Moon, Stephenie Meyer gives us a beautiful description of Jacob. It has always stood out to me. She writes, "Jacob was simply a perpetually happy person, and he carried that happiness with him like an aura, sharing it with whoever was near him. Like an earthbound sun, whenever someone was within his gravitational pull, Jacob warmed them. It was natural, a part of who he was"(p. 145).

Every time I read that, I think about Jaron. Jaron is a perpetually happy person. His periods of discontent are rare and brief. I love that about his personality. His positive nature brightens and blesses our family on a regular basis. He is the kind of kid who brings home a gift for his sister when he gets to choose something out of the treasure box for his good behavior at school. He is the kind of kid who forgives in a heartbeat. He loves his family and is not too embarrassed to give out hugs and kisses. Yet. He loves transformers, Lego's, swimming, and ball games. He loves pancakes, chocolate, hamburgers, fish, and hushpuppies. He radiates happiness and contentment. He laughs easily. As much as he tries to be a serious big boy, he cannot hold back a smile. Ever.

Recently, my mom was cutting Jaron's hair when he was spending the night with her. She said, "I forgot to ask your mom how she wanted me to cut your hair." He said, "Handsome. She likes it handsome." I do like him handsome. But I also like him sweet, caring, and happy. I can't help but think he is going to be a good man someday. I can't help but think he will be a thoughtful husband and a devoted father someday. But today he is my favorite little boy who lights up when I walk into the room. And he is six years old. Happy Birthday, Jaron!

there's a good chance I have a problem

I am a mostly rational person. I am not prone to random, crazy behavior. I will never bungee jump or pierce a part of myself covered by clothing. I have never tried any illegal drugs. I do not have any tattoos. I have been married almost eleven years to my junior high boyfriend. Almost every evening this month, I have been hauling my three children in my minivan to softball and tee ball games and eating cook shack hamburgers for supper. I have lived in one school district for my entire life, and I have been at the same job for seven and a half years. I have always rooted for the Atlanta Hornets, the St. Louis Cardinals, and the Kansas City Chiefs. All of these above behaviors make me feel like I am the epitome of normalcy. I don't mind that...although there are probably people out there that would equate normalcy with BORING.

So on one hand, I am this totally predictable soccer mom type with a pony tail. But on the other hand, I am totally and completely, over the top and embarrassingly, obsessively and compulsively in love with The Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer. As Eclipse is heading into theatres this week, I should confess that I have read the series, in its entirety, four times. In the last year and a half. Four times. There are very few books I have ever read more than once. There are no other books I have ever read four times. They are by far my all time favorites. I have convinced people to read these books against their better judgement. People who do not read fantasy or people who do not read in general. Every one of them loved the series. They thanked me later. I am not exactly sure how I can relate so thoroughly to this girl who is in love with a vampire, but I do. These books are not dark, freaky fantasies. The Twilight Saga is romance, morality, chivalry, and love overcoming obstacles. It is an imperfect girl finding love and her place in the world. There just happen to be vampires and wolves involved. So people say I am kind of a crazy fan. I don't think I am crazy just because of charms on my bracelet. Or because I know the movie release dates as soon as they go public and begin my countdown. Or because I am planning on taking a few vacation hours to see Eclipse on opening day. Or because in preparation for this movie, I read the book again, along with the new novella that accompanies it. And I watched Twilight and New Moon. Again. Or because, along with the first two soundtracks, my iPod already has the Eclipse soundtrack on it...and I can sing along. Or because of my new Collectors Edition People...

I guess maybe I can't help myself. So there's a good chance I have a problem. I might be crazy after all.

Happy Father's Day

My dad has never been a very mushy kind of guy. He has never been the kind of guy who says, "I love you" every day. As a rule, he is not overly affectionate. Usually when puckered lips are coming his way, he sticks his cheek out to meet them. Even so, I have never wondered if he loved me. The thing about my dad is, he has always been more of a doer than a talker. So while he does not spend a lot of time professing his feelings for his favorite people on a regular basis, he does spend a lot of time loving them. I remember waking up as a teenager to my mom saying, "Your car had a flat tire this morning, but your dad fixed it." Before I was even out of bed, People. My oil was changed every three thousand miles, but I never looked at the mileage. He fixed whatever was broken. He still does that for me. He works on my vehicle when I need it. He patiently answers my mechanically challenged questions. Just recently he brought my dishwasher back to life. And to a working mom of three kids in the middle of baseball season--that's a pretty big deal. He is the most dependable person I know.

I could write about the best advice he has given me, or all the things he has fixed for me, or all the teeth he has pulled for me, or the time he took me for a spin on my first bike before I knew how to ride it. I really think it would take more than one post to cover it. I remember it all, and I am grateful. My favorite thing about my dad these days is the kind of Grandpa he is to my kids. He lights up when he sees them, even when they misbehave...or sometimes especially when they misbehave. They have learned quickly that they can depend on him, too. Among other things, they can depend on him for applause and the hide the pen game, chocolate treats, fireworks and fishing in the summer, good ham and cheese snacks, and rides in the tractor.

I hope someday my kids feel like they can count on me like I have always counted on my dad. So Happy Father's Day to the dads who tell their families they love them every day. And Happy Father's Day to dads like mine. The ones who show their families they love them by taking really good care of them, and the ones who become the kind of grandpa that every kid hopes to have.

because one blog just isn't enough anymore

So I was the girl that hesitated to start my own blog. Because I was not sure anybody would care what I had to say. And I was nervous at the thought that maybe they would. Or that they may not agree or approve of my writing. A couple of years into blogging, I am still not sure if I entertain, inspire, uplift, or offend anybody. The biggest surprise is that I really like it. I like writing. I like sharing my opinions and getting things off my chest. I like knowing somebody is reading what I write. And I love being able to look back on forgotten moments with a fresh perspective and appreciation when I compare it to what life is like today.

So I decided to start another one. One blog just isn't enough anymore. I have been spending so much time with my new camera that I am finally starting to feel like a photographer instead of a girl who loves taking pictures. I have asked some family and close friends for some practice opportunities and they are coming up soon. I would like to introduce you to my photography blog. Feel free to provide feedback on pictures. I know I am not a professional and I want to improve and learn as much as I possibly can!