Thinking Back

I'm reminiscing tonight. Tomorrow is a big day at our house. My Jacob is going to be 16. SIXTEEN! Wow, I can hardly believe it.

I remember this night sixteen years ago. It was the night before my actual due date. Other than a mad rush of nesting I wasn't really feeling any clear signs that he might be coming. I just remember an absolute need for the dishes to be washed and the kitchen to be cleaned. If you know me then you know that's somewhat out of character, but I was going against the mandate for bed rest and madly cleaning my kitchen, agitated with my husband. I was definitely "nesting."

His Winnie the Pooh room was ready and waiting for him. My bag for the hospital was packed. The car seat was in the car. Everyone told me first babies were usually late, but I was prepared just in case.

I woke up the next morning after Neal had gone off to work to note something was a little awry. I called Neal home and called my parents and his mom and let them know we were going to head to the hospital. When I called Neal's mom she had already gone to work so I told my little brother-in-law, who promptly fell back asleep without passing the message along.

I wasn't in labor when I got to the hospital. As I would discover later, Jacob was going to come into the world the same way he would do most things in life, at his own easy pace, in his own particular way. For multiple reasons the doctor kept me at the hospital that morning and induced me. That too was a pattern being set for our relationship, me trying to "rush" Jake along, him resisting me most of the way. Jake eventually giving in, but somehow seemingly still getting his own way.

After an 11 1/2 labor my first born child arrived, silently and agreeably. He was a big-headed, beautiful baby. He rode my tailbone so hard in labor I couldn't sit normally for weeks - and I have often considered him a "pain in the butt" in all the years since.

As an infant he was a great sleeper - he slept 15-18 hours a day most days. As a toddler he was so smart and super verbal. I bought him sippy cups when he was just two, and he amazed me by replying "Oh thank you mama, I APPRECIATE that."

He was a great kid, though I remember a stage at 4 years old when he suddenly had this little rebellious streak that made me wonder where my perfect little boy had gone. It didn't last long, but it did reappear at 8, and then 12, so yeah, I am a little worried about what 16 might hold. I remember praying once for God to show me how to kill his stubborn streak, and I heard the Lord say, "If he is stubborn about the right things, it will be a blessing." And most of the time, it is.

But the reality is, although I might still refer to him (appropriately) as a "pain in the butt" (or a nubberbutt) I am proud of the young man my son has become. I can't believe 16 is here. May it be sweet.

Wii Be Getting Fit

I bought Neal the Wii and the Wii Fit back in October for his 40th. The Wii became a popular pastime for all almost immediately. But the Wii Fit sat unattended for so long in the corner I threatened to re-wrap it and give it to him for Christmas.

As it turns out I probably should have let him wrap it up and give it to me. We finally broke it out on New Years Day, and I have to tell you, I was hooked.

21 days later and I haven't missed a day. Even in the midst of the horrible stomach flu I still managed to take my "Body Test" every day (and had a nice dip in my weight, but it didn't last.)

Soon the kids were on board, including my honorary one, and even one of Ethan's pals.



Check my Mii out, I'm in the blue in the middle doing the cool yoga move. (I haven't quite mastered that one in real life.)

The Wii Fit is a bit of a tough taskmaster. It often groans when I step on the balance board to have my center and weight measured. It calls me obese daily and makes my little Mii look fat every day. My "boxing coach" often tells me I better get back in the gym soon to try better. And my trainer is always throwing me off hassling me about keeping my body centered when I'm standing on one leg, but despite it all, I honestly can't get enough of it.

If you look at the picture you can see the chart behind, the color of our shirts coincides with our line on the chart. Some of us have been more consistent than others.

I started with mostly Yoga, and I can almost touch my toes in the afternoons now (mornings are still tougher) - and a couple weeks ago, they seemed really far are away 24/7. I've progressed to the strength training exercises and even find myself enjoying a little aerobics. A couple days ago I upgraded to the Wii Fit Plus with more moves, more options and more games. The last two days I have fit in 90 minutes worth of workouts per day, and I'm having a blast.

I've switched things up with my weight loss efforts abandoning Atkins to try a more traditional method of calorie counting for a few days. We'll see how it goes, I'm not sold on it yet. But I am feeling really good! Stronger every day.

My Wii Fit Trainer is interesting to say the least. The female trainer's voice sort of annoys me so I went with the guy, which is appropriate, because if I ever went on the Biggest Loser, I would totally want Bob over Jillian to train me, haha. He's a little different, and very limber, and has a way of criticizing and encouraging you all in a single breath.

Tonight E was working out with him and he was hassling my doodle bug about his center of balance standing on one leg. I heard Ethan mumble something and asked him what he said, he told me, "I said, easy for him to say, he's a hologram." Yep, that pretty much sums it up!

It works though, I'm working out! Daily! At 6 am! And having fun! Who knew?

I promised myself on my last birthday I would be healthier at 40 than I was at 39, I waited longer than I should have, but I am definitely getting there! And some of my family is coming along for the ride! Wii-iiiiiii!

100,000 Miles

I hit a milestone today... or rather my car did, and I felt inclined to document it, so I took a picture of it with my phone. (How's that for a statement that would have sounded REALLY weird a hundred years ago.)

It's amazing how time flies, and flux everything really is in life, constantly fluid, constantly changing.

I bought my mini-van in October 2001. Talk about a crazy and unstable time. Life in the United States was hard to describe. Our nation had just been rocked by the events of 9/11 and everyone was affected by it. People were busy mourning, grieving, counting their blessings. It brought us closer together as a nation for a time, and also helped us realize what a blessed nation we had been. It also instilled a lot of fear in people, we felt more vulnerable than we ever had before.

I think about the craziness of my personal life in that season too. We were in the early part of the thick of a crazy and complicated adoption. We had only unofficial custody of our 7 month old adopted Ethan. Born in February and in our care from the time he was 12 hours old, it wasn't until he was nearly 7 months old that we finally had legal custody, with his birthmother's rights finally signed away on Neal's birthday that October. Little did we know that we were just coming through the easy part of his adoption.

Jake was 7 and just starting 2nd grade, just the way Victoria is was this past October. And oh yes, on top of a 7 year old and a 7 month old, I was 7 months pregnant. I never thought about that till right now, haha, in a way I guess it was the number of perfection.

I had no idea then what the next 100,000 miles would hold for us. I find it appropriate that I crossed the milestone driving children to school for without a doubt taxiing my kids is where the bulk of those miles have passed. I've spent a lot of miles driving those children to and from school. It started with Jacob and Covenant and leaving the younger two locked in their car seats while walking Jake onto the black top there watching him do his morning exercises. (Don't worry, the little two in the car were never out of my sight.) Then we moved to Creekside, those were wonderful years, I loved that school and the people there so much. No longer babies but toddlers, leaving kids in the car was no longer safe, so it was a couple years of car line drop off, sending Jake each day, to learn and to grow.

Eventually Ethan got big enough to start preschool. I sent him to the same school in Yorba Linda that I sent Jake because we had loved it so much, it was challenging to drop him off in Orange for a carpool and then get Ethan to school 20 minutes later in Yorba Linda 3 days a week. But before I knew it, Victoria was big enough to be in preschool too, and I was driving the marathon 5 days a week. I made the decision to put her and Ethan into preschool on opposite days because Ethan had never really had a chance to have me to himself, and that was my goal. It didn't really work out that way though, speech classes he needed just meant more miles added to my car. I think if it had been able to speak my minivan would have told you that was a tiring year!

Finally Ethan got to kindergarten and he and Jake were a single drop off because our beloved Creekside was K through middle school, and that was what I had that year, a kindergartner, a middleschooler and a preschooler. With both the boys I had chosen to do three days a week for their last year of preschool but with Victoria my car and I were just too worn out so she never did more than two days a week, and besides she was my last one, the baby why be in a hurry to send her to school more, soon she would be in school every day too.

Sure enough it happened. All my children were in school in one place, every day and I had to go back to work. It was a lighter year for school driving, one drop off and a short jaunt between their campus and my job. It started out a good year, but ended a sad one when our wonderful school finally shut down because of finances.

So fall of 2008 my car drove us into a new season, new adventures and new schools. Jake in high school meant except on the rare rainy day I wasn't doing any driving for him at all, he would (and still does) ride his bike or walk to get himself to school each day. The little ones I began to drive in a different direction, to a new school in Anaheim. This is our 2nd year there, but the instability of the economy and our finances means I don't know where I will be driving them for school in the new era of driving.

In these 100,000 miles, as diverse as school driving has been, our church driving has been constant. With the exception of the church itself moving to a new building, very near the latest school, as it happens, we have consistently driven our family to the same church for the last 100,000 miles. Sunday services, Wednesday services, youth group, family events, stop bys and drop offs, it's been back and forth for a nice chunk of that 100,000 miles to our solid church home. Honestly we drove thousands of miles there before the minivan, and Lord willing we will mark several more milestones in the future there as well. It's home.

Grocery store trips, driving to work, the bank, errands, doctor appointments, too many to count that have been in that 100,000 miles and so many trips to gymnastics classes, soccer practices, and basketball games. I can't begin to imagine the groove we started driving my car back and forth between our house and Angel Stadium. We drove that car to the 2002 and World Series and watch our Angels win! Of course, we have driven to plenty of play off games since then too to watch their World Series dreams die. Oh and of course Disneyland, I have driven that car so many times to the great amusement park you could probably consider her to be one of the official Disney shuttles, though I don't think they ever do "car dancing" on the official shuttle, but we have had fun doing it in my shuttle.

Thinking back, I don't think she's ever left California in that 100,000 miles though. Isn't that interesting? I've driven her up to the mountains, down to San Diego, on our first camping trip to Lake Isabella, and even a trip up the coast to San Francisco, but I cannot for the life of me ever recall having crossed a state line, lots of counties, and maybe even to an airport for the family to fly out of the state, but I am pretty sure her tires have never left California soil.

There have been a lot of peaks and valleys in those 100,000 miles, not just literally but figuratively too, we said good-bye to Neal's mom and my paternal grandfather as the miles went by. We brought Victoria home from the hospital in that car. I remember the days of two car seats, to two booster seats to the point when everyone weighed more than enough to sit freely on their own.

These days she ought to often be yellow in color. Having a highschooler now I spend lots of times being a taxi cab, picking up Jake and his friends, driving them around town, dropping them off different places.

I just figured it out, I've had that car 100 months, give or take a week or two, so I have driven her a thousand miles a month. Interesting. She's been a good car, a few accidents, some my fault, some not at all. A replaced transmission, a wealth of oil changes, running through brakes and tires. A lot of life has happened in that 100,000 miles. Her check engine light has been on a little more the last year or so (including now) but who can blame her? She's been through a lot!

It's been quite a journey, I hope that old van will stick around (payment free for three years, thank you very much) and help us make even more memories... as the miles go by.

Wordless Wednesday

Click here to rewind time 364 days.

Lunch Sack Love Note

It's been a long rough week at our house. The stomach flu has been here since Tuesday. First it hit Victoria, then it hit me, then it hit Victoria again this morning.

Neither of us is feeling 100% yet. When she was at her worst I knew I was going to be in her same position... well, literally. And within about 26 hours, I was.

Yesterday Victoria managed to go back to school, but I felt (and probably looked) like I had been hit by a Mack truck sleeping till well after noon. By bedtime we at least both felt human.

So I felt pretty ripped off when Victoria started this morning off with a relapse.

So another lazy day at home with a sickie, ended up being my 4th day off due to kid drama (I missed work Tuesday because of a bad dental appointment with Ethan.)

So this evening Neal came home and took the boys to Wal-Mart. Victoria, who felt pretty well most of the day, disappeared back down the hall to the office. A little while later she called me back to print something off for her, so I did.

She delivered it to me folded and slipped inside a decorate paper lunch sack.



See the note? It says: "Mom thank you for takeing care of me well I am sick you are the best mom you make me smile love Your dotter Victoria I love you mom!!!!!!!!!!" (And yes, I counted the exclamation points.)



The back side of the note had a sort of secret message written in highlighter. I couldn't actually read it till I took a picture with the flash. See it? It says, "to mom love Victoria I love you!!!!!" (Yep, I counted them again.



The back of the lunch sack reiterated the sentiment on the note inside, she wrote, "I love you mom thank you for takeing care of me well I am sick Love Victoria!!!!!" (We'll work on her grammar and spelling another day.)

This was one of those weeks where as a mom I felt like I gave till I just couldn't give anymore, pretty literally. But it's mama moments like this, when the payoff is so big, that you really feel loved and appreciated.

When I pack the kids school lunches in these sacks, I always write little love notes on the bottom, encouragement for their day, "xoxo's" and the like. As much as I do it with hope of encouraging my kids, I doubt I ever come close to blessing them the way my Princess blessed me tonight. Today is a good mom day.

Stories - Victoria

All children are a blessing. The bible calls them "a gift of the Lord." Sometimes I forget what a gift my kiddos are, but these last few days, I've been thinking more about it. Sunday a couple in our church came up and told us what a "great kid" they thought Jake was. He'd spent New Year's Eve at their home, and like most people, after spending a little time with Jake, they obviously saw what an amazing young man he is.... I think amazing might have been the word they used even. Ethan amazes and touches my heart all the time with this crazy combination of being very manly and "all boy" and at the same time being my most sensitive and tender hearted of kids. I've been working out on the Wii Fit every day and I keep finding him sitting behind me, watching and offering constant encouragement and support.

Then there's my daughter. She's a really amazing kid. She looks so much like me when I was a girl and yet, our personalities couldn't be more different. She's more emotional than I am, more "girlie." She's also more of a tomboy than I ever was too. I know, she is a walking contradiction. She is this amazing athlete, good at all the things I wished I was when I was a kid. She's got the greatest laugh, super infectious. She's always joyful, nothing ever gets her down, and yet she can stop on a dime and cry her eyes out. Like I said, a walking contradiction.

She is the perfect daughter for me. I absolutely ADORE her. She challenges me, inspires me, makes me laugh, and my heart fills with love when I look at her.

I have been known to describe my children as "my prayer, my present and my promise." Victoria was my promise.

What first brought me to the Lord in 1992 was a miscarriage. It forced me to deal with an abortion that I had three years before. I came to the Lord heavy hearted and broken. I went through a bible study at my church on God's forgiveness and healing. It was a long and intense journey. You can read more about it here.

During the course of that journey I committed my life to Christ and began to learn about the Lord I entrusted my soul to. At a very low point in the process of healing I was driving down the freeway with my husband lamenting to God in my mind that I was destined to never have any children, when I heard a voice say very clearly, "you will have a daughter." It was so audible that I turned to my husband and asked him what he said.

He hadn't said anything, and he told me so. I knew I had heard something, and slowly the realization came to me that it was God who had spoken to me. It wasn't out loud, but the still small voice was so clear in my heart, that it seemed almost audible. It was the first personal promise I ever received from the Lord, and I believed it.

More than a year later when I found out I was pregnant, I knew instantly that it was a son. You would think having been given the promise I would have assumed a girl, but somehow I just knew it was a boy, and I was right, in early 1994 Jacob (my prayer) was born.

A year and a half later I had another miscarriage, it was sad but not to the degree it had been when I miscarried the first time, the level of guilt and responsibility wasn't there this time. We knew we could try again and planned to.

Actually I shouldn't call it trying, because we just never didn't not try. We never did anything to impede pregnancy, so as each year passed, it was more and more discouraging when I wasn't able to get pregnant.

I know lots of women who struggling with infertility would be happy to just have one child, but having grown up as an only child that wasn't the desire of my heart. And in truth, I could still feel the emptiness, my family was not complete. It wasn't greed, it was just that I knew God had more for us, and in the back of my mind I knew He'd spoken that promise.

One night when Jacob was about three, he, Neal and I were in his room at bedtime saying our nightly prayers. As we did most nights we prayed for God to add to our family. I remember that night so well as my toddler cocked his head to one side and prayed "Jesus, I want a baby brother AND a baby sister. Suddenly there was such a strong sense that overwhelmed me, it was as though I could feel God leaning in and listening. Suddenly I blurted out loud, "But not at the same time!" Haha... funny God.

As time continued I kept hoping and praying for our family to grow, wavering back and forth between believing and proclaiming the promise and being discouraged and fearful it might never happen. During those days as I was staying at home with my son I began an online ministry to other women who had had abortions. It grew into a huge support group and I met and ministered to over 150 different women during that season from my very own bedroom.

One night I was ministering to a particular woman and sharing with her about believing God at his word. I had my bible in my lap came across this verse in 1 John, chapter 5 verse 4 says, "for everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith." As I read it, then retyped it, something stirred in my spirit, I knew the Lord was telling me my daughter's name, "Victoria." It was several months later that I ran across another verse in Galatians,

For it is written:

“ Rejoice, O barren,
You who do not bear!
Break forth and shout,
You who are not in labor!
For the desolate has many more children
Than she who has a husband.”

Now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are children of promise."

...children of promise." I knew right in that moment my daughter's full name, Victoria Gayle (for Galatians).

At times the discouragement weighed heavy though. My body wasn't doing what it was supposed to. It didn't work right. I desperately wanted the Lord to touch and heal my body. One night at a prayer meeting we were in an intense time of prayer. My eyes closed I was silently crying out to God. I saw a vision, it was so clear, I could see the hem of Jesus' garment. I knew in my heart if I could just touch it, the Lord would heal me and I could get pregnant.

Normally when the Lord speaks to me, or impresses something on me, it is more sensual, felt than seen, none of my "words" from the Lord have ever been very vivid visually, but this one was, so much so in fact it was like watching a movie inside my head. But there was no sense of touch at all, no matter how much I willed it, I could not touch the garment. In my mind I asked God, "Why? Why can't I touch it, if only I could then I could have the baby you promised."

Frustrated I sat back and opened my eyes. The woman sitting next to me wasn't someone I was particularly close to. In all honesty, we had our issues. She had a problem with me and the things God was calling me in to and her out of, and I was very careful what I shared with her. As I sat back and opened my eyes she did too, and then she turned and looked me square in the eyes and said, "The Lord says, 'you don't need to be healed.'" Wow! It cut to the core of my heart. She didn't know anything about what had just been happening. Through her the Lord chose to answer my question.

So I knew I didn't need to be healed, I knew I had been promised a daughter, I even knew her name, but I didn't know why I was waiting. One Sunday morning I got my answer. We had an exceptional time of prayer during service. I was completely entered in to the presence of God. I was talking to Him about this promise He'd made again, some eight years or so before. I told Him, "I'm ready God. Why won't you bring her to me? I'm ready." And in that moment the still small voice was clear again, "It isn't about when you're ready," He said, "it's about when she is called." Wow. It was a total "wow" moment, and a moment of absolute clarity. I never asked God again a question of "why" or "when."

More than a year later we found ourselves in the adoption process, a story I will share the details of in Ethan's story, but suffice it to say, when we were in the process, lots of people came to me excited and believing this was going to be the fulfillment on the promise I'd been proclaiming for years. Everyone believed this was my promised daughter, everybody but me. Like with Jake I knew Ethan was a boy from the get go, and God had even given me his name. I had no doubts that the baby on it's way was another son (my present) and I was thrilled.

Ethan arrived in early 2001. He wasn't even two months old when I found myself cleaning out our back bathroom where I came across an unused pregnancy test. I was content with my 7 year old and my newborn (although still believing for my daughter at some point) but I had this thing about pregnancy tests, I had taken so many over the years they sort of haunted me. In my maternal contentment I was fully prepared to just dispose of this test but I couldn't waste it, so I took it, and thought nothing more and went back to my cleaning. When I finally went back to the test no one could have been more shocked by the waiting result. I was the mother of a 6 week old and I was pregnant!

Instantly I had two thoughts run through my mind, (1) this was the fulfillment of the process and (2) I remembered the faith-filled prayer of a 3 year old. Dear Jesus, I want a baby brother and a baby sister." Funny, funny God. This was the time she was called to, and she was on her way.

I don't know the fullness yet of what "her time" means, but I know in those next couple of years as we battled through Ethan's very difficult adoption, she fulfilled a part of it. At night I would go into each of my children's rooms to pray over them as they slept. First I would go in and pray over Jake, and then I would find myself crying out over Ethan, begging God to make him permanently part of our family, legally and completely. God had given me a promise in his name too, and when I would sneak quietly in to my daughter's room to pray over her sleeping, I would have full assurance of God's faithfulness, absolute living and breathing proof that God always keeps His promises. It might not be on my time or schedule, but in His perfect timing, He is always true to His word, and true to accomplish what He promises to.

When I was pregnant with my little girl, I prayed for her big brown eyes and long eyelashes like her daddy. I remember laying on my back watching her do somersaults inside of me, wondering who this little princess was going to be. I should have known then that she would be a bundle of perpetual motion, but I had no idea about all the gifts she would bring. She loves her mommy, and is my sweetest helper. She touches my heart every day and I cannot begin to express the lessons the Lord has taught me through her. I am a blessed mom and my little promise is the greatest of treasures.

Christmas In Pics

It snuck right up on us. We didn't get a Christmas tree till one week before Christmas Day. I didn't even start any real shopping till Monday the 21st. I 'm not sure if it was denial or what, but I just never jumped into the holiday preparations.

I woke up Christmas Eve morning with nothing more than 4 presents wrapped (all to be opened, as it happens, on Christmas Eve morning.)

But I wasn't panicked - not even when I woke up to this.



Of course, I wasn't the one who had to clean it up.



We even made time for a retaliation prank. He's not really injured, but lots of people worried he was. Long story I may or may not blog another day.



Even as we all got ready for Christmas Eve service and not a single package wrapped, I refused to be overwhelmed.



My three kids and my spare (honorary) son, are a barrel of monkeys... no... I mean more fun than a barrel of monkeys!



I was so non-stressed, instead of rushing home to wrap and prep, we went out for Chinese for Christmas Eve dinner. Yum!



I mean who could deny the hunger of these precious (teenage, food consuming) faces...



These hungry faces too...



So late Christmas Eve this was the complete prep level before the elves went to work. (And just to clarify, we really only have one elf living at our house.)



But a little Christmas magic, and a trip to the office with all the tools for wrapping... three hours later (after 1 am) it magically transformed.



Thank goodness for decorative boxes that don't require wrapping paper!



And by 3 am, Santa left his load.



At 8 am we were invaded, and sent the children away. Eventually they came back and we let them open gifts from the east (as in east coast from their uncle) while Santa Neal and I moved to the end of the bed.



And eventually we made it to the living room, where chaos ensued.

Catnip for Max included. Actually it was for Max and Lola, but he wasn't sharing.



Lots of opening, which by the way is much faster than wrapping.



But fun was had by all.



V and I bought each other our Christmas outfits, cute eh?



Then we headed to Grandma's for our traditional Christmas breakfast.



Yummy homemade cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate!



More opening at my mom's.



Everybody wanted to get in on the fun.



My dad and my grandmother.



Then I decided to drag everyone under the tree for a picture, one by one.

My love.



My Jakey. (He's such a man now.)



My doodle bug.



My princess.



My family.



Then the kids packed up their booty and we headed home.



Because I had my 2nd annual Chriatmas dinner to cook, a big whopping prime rib!



And eventually I had a beautiful table set for my family.



It took longer than expected, they were very hungry. Which is a great way to guarantee they appreciate the meal.



But it was good enough to be appreciated anyway.



If I do say so myself.



And best of all, I have a husband who cleans!



All in all, I have to say it was a lovely holiday. I am a blessed woman.

Oh Christmas Tree

We finally got our tree last night.



And about 10:45, I started my part of the job.



By 2:30 am, I had completed my leg of the race.



This morning the kids and Neal started on their part.



Nobody even bothered to get... um... dressed.



The kids got out all their favorite ornaments.



And then Neal worked on filling in the "holes" with his faithful helper.
(Jake left for the Ducks game and Ethan just got bored.)



And we added the final "pièce de résistance" and now we have our tree.



Merry CHRISTmas!

Change the "y" to "i"...

Today was the big spelling bee at the kids' school. Both of my younger kids made the top six spellers in their class and were chosen to compete in the school spelling bee. They would compete with their classmates as well as six kids from the other classes in their grade and the top two in each competition will move on to the ACSI convention after the New Year.

Weeks ago both my kids came home with long lists of words to study, and I've nagged them to do it ever since. In all honesty, I think they lacked commitment, so when we headed to school this morning, I think it might be accurate to say no one was more nervous than I was.

Here's V before the competition began. I caught her eye and got a smile from her on stage.



Before the spelling began the kids were encouraged to stand up and shake off their nerves. The moms and dads in the audience stretched out their hands to pray over them, I was wishing I could wiggle my nerves away too.



I leaned to the mom next to me and told her I hoped she would make it through at least one round. "Beef, b-e-e-f, beef." Phew, she made it.



I guess I should have hoped for more. "c-a-r-e-s-e" was NOT the way to spell "carries", but my little visual learner tried to spell the word phonetically and was the first person to fall in the competition.



Of course she was disappointed, but she came down and sat in my lap and watched the rest of the bee like a good sport. I thought I saw tears welling up in her eyes, but she assured me she was fine.

In the end she got a little green ribbon that said "Participant," and got her first taste of academic competition.



Barely a moment to breathe before the 3rd grade round started and my nerves bundled back up in my belly. E say down waiting for his round to start.



The third graders stood to shake off their nerves too, but they weren't nearly as good at wiggling as the 2nd graders were, first signs of the "cool factor" creeping in to their peer group.



Look closely, I think if you try you can see the nerves creeping in on Ethan's face as he waits his turn. I wasn't as worried about his spelling ability, I hadn't considered nerves.



E too was the first to fall. Sincerely it was sad, "c-r-y-e-d..." Nope, that's not how you spell cried, and if E had to spell that word again a 1000 times, he would have gotten it right the other 999. It was just an off moment and it was the end of the bee for him.



He came and sat down beside me and spelled much harder words even in the 15th and 16th rounds. I kept having to hush him because I was afraid he'd get in to trouble, but he was worried I was disappointed in him.

In the end he got the same green "Participant" ribbon as his sister. You can tell he wasn't exactly thrilled.



I suppose both my children need to have the "change the 'y' yo 'i' to add 'es' or 'ed'" rule reinforced for them, but more importantly I think they learned tastes of the life lessons on humility and good sportsmanship today. After school when I got to pick them both up from school, Victoria's final evaluation was "Hey, I was still one of the best spellers in my class and that's why I got to be in the bee." I told her she was right.

Ethan was a bit more negative and hung up on the fact that his sister got through one more round than he did. Honestly I'm glad if my children both had to lose, at least they lost in a similar way.... I don't want to use the word fail, because I think my daughter is right, just being in the bee is an honor and something they earned, but at least nobody could make anyone else feel badly around here in the end.

In the end no one cryed cried, and each of my children carese carries the knowledge that they can rise again from lost competitions.

Thanksgiving Weekend 2009

Grandma is down for the count.
So Grandpa had to pinch bit Thanksgiving dinner on her behalf.


So it was a little more informal in serving, but tasted goooood.



But they still set a beautiful table. See my princess over there at the kids' table? You don't have to call her twice for dinner.



Grandpa specializes in desserts.
I took this pic before we set out the red velvet cupcakes.



After dinner Neal made a new friend.



And he made me hold him. (Ew.)



But I still love him.



I tried for Christmas card pics, but didn't plan well.
You probably won't see this in a mailbox near you.



Neal decorated the outside of the house with lights
and finally let Jake get up on the roof, much to my dismay.



Jake's more my son than his dad's when it comes to heights
and had 2nd thoughts.



He got stuck up there... but his dad helped him down,
also much to my dismay.



Thankful, the weekend wasn't a Turkey.