Super Stylists

Yesterday was such a treat.  When I got home from work the boys greeted me with huge cardboard birthday signs they dug out of a neighbor's recycle bin and turned into birthday signs.

My cousin Andrea has been watching the boys this summer while I'm at work, Michael told her, "I wanna buy my mom one of those dresses you wear when you marry someone."  Isn't that so cute?  After counting all the money he had in his piggy bank and realizing he only had $8.00, Andrea was so generous she shared her new dress she got for summer with Michael so he could give it to me.  Isn't that the sweetest thing?

After getting to go out for out for dinner we got home where the boys asked me if I'd play Power Rangers with them.  Although I love myself a good game of Power Rangers, I asked the boys if they'd treat me to one of mom's favorite games.

I asked, "Boys, will you please do my hair?'  I know silly right?  The truth is, I've always loved to have my hair done, and by hair done, I mean combed.  I don't know what it is, but it is so relaxing to me to have my hair combed, I seriously almost fall asleep when I have my hair cut.   The boys are wonderful and we've played "Hair combers"  several times. 

As soon as I asked the boys if they'd comb my hair, off they ran to my bedroom to get all the supplies.  Back they came with multiple brushes, a couple combs and of course the water spray bottle.  Immediately they turned into "hair cutters"  and started playing.  It is always so fun and cute, I just had to record it.

Here's just a snippet of the funny conversations we have as the boys do my hair.  Seriously, in some ways it seems like maybe I am in a real salon.  There's lots of gossip, lots of discussion and of course lots of talk about how overworked they are...

Enjoy!  I know I did. :-)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etsxedAWjNY

Until next time,
Angie

(not so) Wordless Wednesday... Today I'm 33.

Today I turn 33 and several people have asked me how I feel about it.  To be perfectly honest, I haven't given it too much thought.  I didn't realize 33 was such a big deal. But the more I think about it, I realize maybe 33 is a big deal.

Several years ago when Jarrett and I were going through fertility treatments, the doctors would always say, "It's great that you are so young, once you turn 33 you move into a new category where we consider you at a higher risk if you were to get pregnant."  Who knew.  I guess this is one of the many "new categories" of joining the mature women's club, I'll get to experience with each passing birthday.  And as I think back to what those doctors would say, I sit here now, at 33, and rejoice.  I"m 33 and my prayers have truly been answered.

They were just answered in a way completely different than how I pictured it and had it planned.  If at 23, someone told me in the next 10 years, you are going to have to help your husband through a life-threatening disease, suffer painful years of wanting to be a mom and not getting to be; followed by the rejoicing gift of adoption, not once, not twice but three times; I would have told them they were crazy.  The truth is, that all of those things are exactly that, the truth. 

People always talk about wanting to go back to when they were a certain age, maybe high school, maybe college, maybe their early 20's.  For me, I'd decline the offer each and every time.  Turning 33 really isn't bad, it isn't necessarily really that great either.  What I've come to realize is that age is just a number and life isn't about how many candles are on your cake.  Life is about the experiences that happen between one year's cake to the next. 

The truth is, I've been blessed with one heck of a life and I try to remind myself each and everyday to give thanks.  Yes, I still complain, I wish for things that really aren't that important and I dream about what life would be like if we had more space for our stuff, if we had the money to go on exotic vacations and if I wouldn't have to clean my own house.  I guess that's just human nature right? (Please reassure me it is.)  But when the sun sets each night and I lay my head on the pillow, I can't help but think, man am I lucky.  I really do have each and everything I EVER wanted and it's all right here, right now.

So as I celebrate turning 33, I'm so thankful. I'm thankful for a spouse who sacrifices so much to give me the flexibility and support in being the best mom and wife I can be.  I"m so thankful for the three little voices, that call my name 177 times a day (and that's not an exaggeration) and the dog that barks begging for food at each and every meal.  I'm thankful for the family that I've been blessed to be born from and married into and I'm thankful for such wonderful friends.   So many blessings and so much gratitude.

As my 33rd year of life begins, the best way to describe it is...

Grateful.  Blessed.  A life fulfilled.

Until next time,
angie

a bird feeder...

A few weeks ago Nana and Papa came over for the weekend.  One of the activities of the day was getting to take Michael to his building class at Home Depot.  It is something he's done for the last several months and he loves it.  Where Gabriel loves sports, Michael loves to create with his hands.  A builder at heart you could say.  And so "building class" as we affectionately call it, has become his thing.  This particular weekend Papa (another excellent master of building/fixing/you name it) went along.  Just an hour later back they came with their finished product.  Proud is the word I'd use to describe the masterpiece bird feeder that they had created.

After several minutes of begging and pleading, we decided the bird feeder would be a perfect addition to our almost dead tree in the front yard.  Upon Michael’s request Papa, Nana and him help tie the string around the feeder and then up into a tree.  As we put some bird seed in, we quickly returned to the house, where the boys eagerly watched for birds to swoop in.

Moment later, they said,  How come they’re not coming to eat?

Reassuringly we said, “Just wait, they will come.” 

And eye’s-glued to the feeder, they would return.

After sitting there for several more minutes they watched and watched, waiting for action.
Soon enough they decided to go pursue another activity but every so often Michael would return to the window to see if he had any takers.

As the days went by the birds soon learned where to find the food and now that we’ve replaced it many times, we need to make a trip back to the store.

That day was very special as Michael and Gabriel hung the bird feeder with their nana and papa.  I remember thinking as I watched it unfold, that this would be one of those events the boys would think about as adults.  It was special for them and so fun for me to see the pride in Michael’s face as his prize was hung for birds to enjoy. And it was also special because it was something they had done together.

Until next time,
angie

Hairy Toes

Today the kids and I made two, yes two trips to the grocery store and that's after an hour long journey to the store yesterday.  If only mom had a brain and could remember to pick up all the stuff on the list the first time. 

Anyway, before leaving on our second trip I told everyone to "go potty" and while I waited for the boys to get ready, I happen to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  At which point I noticed yet another grey hair.  YIKES!!!!!  Sticking straight out of the right side of my head, I must have gasp or inhaled in a way to catch the boy's attention.  Michael asked, "Mom what's wrong?"  And so I decided to show him and Gabriel. Bending down to their level and turning my head to be just inches from their eyes, I pointed and said, "Look boys!"  To which they also gasped and Michael screeched, "MOM- you're growing grey hair now.  You're going to look like Grandma, probably tomorrow. "  Quickly I responded, "Let's hope I'm not all grey tomorrow."

Having a conversation about me growing grey hair must have sparked an interest for Gabriel because on our short, less than a mile trip to the store, Gabriel made a stunning revelation also.  "MOM- I HAVE HAIR ON MY TOES!"  Looking in the rear view mirror to make sure I was hearing what I thought I heard correctly, I asked, "What Gabriel?"  As I saw both boys bent perfectly in half and Michael lying diagonally across the backseat, trying their best to examine Gabriel's toes. Again he said, "MOM- I HAVE DARK HAIR ON MY TOES!  MOM- I"M ALMOST AN ADULT!"Now laughing out loud, and still looking in the mirror while trying to focus on getting to the store, I see Michael full-on stare right at Gabriel in honest  admiration that in deed his brother was almost an adult.  Finally arriving at the store and pulling into the parking space, Gabriel jumped out of his seat and was all the way in the front, shoes off, sticking his hairy toes in my face before I could even unbuckle.  "Look mom, my toes have hair on them and without a choice not to look, I glanced over, observed his foot and supported his new "development." 

Trying my best to get things moving and to change the subject, I said, "Okay let's go." and off the crew and I went with Gabriel and Michael following behind continuing the topic of discussion. Gabriel said, "Michael, I'm so excited to have hair on my toes, that means I'm almost going to be a dad."  Michael supporting him and obviously desperate to discover hair on his toes said, "Gabriel, I'm going to start growing hair all over my body.  Then I'll be even more like a dad."

The boys crack me up with their understandings of what it means to be an adult and even more specifically, a dad.  Someday I'll remind them of this conversation.... but today, I'll just smile and laugh about it.

Until next time,
angie

Smile!

Flastback moment: 

I've shared the story before, but I'll tell it again.  Isabelle smiled even when she was in the hospital. One of the nurses there told me that when newborn babies smile, it is because they can still hear their guardian angels talking to them.  I loved the story and have thought of it often when she similes.   Before leaving the hospital, that nurse, together with the others gave Isabelle this.  It hangs in her room and I read it frequently

And I believe Isabelle had at least one guardian angel with her from the moment she was brought into this world.  She is a miracle baby and the fact that we get to be her parents, continues to amaze me.  God has truly blessed us. 

And although I'm sure people think I'm crazy, I do believe that nurse was right.  Isabelle was smiling as she heard her guardian angel.  Even in the first few weeks of being at home, she'd smile many many times throughout the day and even at night during our midnight and three o'clock feedings, she'd drink and then smile at me.  I guess her angel must have had a lot to say.
Here's just one example of her smiles... I have many many pictures of her smirk, but this one at 6 days old, is one of my favorites...

Until next time,
Angie

VPM, no, MPV, no, MVP, yes! that’s it!

This past spring Gabriel has been participating in baseball. Being from the mid-west and still rookies at the whole kids-in-sports mind-frame, we had no idea how big of a deal spring baseball is here in the desert. Seriously, baseball here starts as early as a kid can stand on his/her own two fall and not fall over from lack of balance. Needless to say, Gabriel has been playing baseball since some of our first days together. He loves it. He loves all sports.

 He’s lucky in that he has a natural talent where his hands seems to do exactly what they are supposed to, where his reaction is fast enough to catch balls he shouldn’t be catching at his age, and that he can hit the ball “all the way to the fence” as he likes to tell me. We are very proud of him. It’s fun to watch him play because he’s like a Golden Retriever chasing a ball. Seriously, that is how one of his first coaches described him. Where ever the ball is, that’s where Gabriel wants to be. And although he’s gotten so much better at staying in his position, he’s always the first one on the field, back in the dugout and ready to bat at the changing of the innings. He lives for sports, for baseball. When he’s not at practice, which seems to be almost every other night, he’s in our tiny back yard pitching balls at the back fence, practicing his bunting skills (again because there is no room to practice actual hitting) or he’s asking to go to the grass so he can really let them rip.

It has also been a gift for Jarrett who can relive his childhood dreams of playing the All-American sport. Jarrett has been able to be the coach or assistant coach to almost all the teams Gabriel has been on, and secretly he’s confided in me that many of the dad’s ask him what he did to make Gabriel so good. It’s funny, because in reality we can’t take the credit. Yes, Jarrett does go practice with him and try’s to support his love as much as time allows, but the real secret to the question the dads are asking is… we haven’t done anything. It’s one of his natural gifts.

 It’s wonderful to see his passion sparked and how he’s so interested in learning all that he can. When baseball is on TV he’s glued to it, reporting over the announcer to us about what each player did, the statistics of each team and about what he would have done, if he was on the team. Again, if only he could remember his school reading books, like he can sport statistics.

 And so with the rising triple digit temperatures, the spring season of baseball is winding down. In fact just this past weekend, Gabriel’s team finished up their season and after their last game, their coaches talked individually about each of the players and highlights from all of their games (and yes there were a lot of them). Unfortunately Michael, Isabelle and I had gone home already because the game was already hours past bedtime, and Isabelle had had enough (insert: seriously meltdown moment to be described later) so I didn’t get to hear what the coach had said.

 At home though, when Gabriel and Dad arrived, I could tell Gabriel was excited to share the news because in typical excitement fashion behavior… I heard the van door… SLAM, then the door from the garage… SLAM, racing footsteps then the laundry room door… SLAM and within seconds, he was at my waist, trying his best to spit the words out. Breathing heavily from racing he said, “MOM- GUESS WHAT?!?!?!” in a high pitched, screeching tone. Trying to sound just as excited, I asked back, “WHAT Gabriel!?!?!?” “MOM- I was selected at the team VPM!!!! Can you believe it?” Now looking for Jarrett to come into the kitchen for back up, and desperately racking my brain for the meaning of the baseball term VPM. Thankfully, he quickly realized what he had spit out, came out incorrectly he said, “Not VMP Mom, I mean MPV” and it was then that I realized he meant to say MVP! “Oh I said, Gabriel you were selected to be the “MVP?” at which point we both spit out the acronym at the same time. “Mom”, he said, “They selected me to be the Most Valuable Player.” We celebrated with high fives, hugs and phone calls to grandparents to share the exciting news.

 While Gabriel repeated the three letters in the correct order time and time again, I soon realized I was going to be hearing this word frequently in the next few days. While we told him it was okay to tell his family and to be very proud of himself, we didn’t’ want him to sound like he was bragging or arrogant to the other players and his friends. He responded with his typical I’m-7-and-know-everything attitude, “I know mom, baseball is a team sport.” We celebrated again.

 And so all weekend, anytime there was something he wanted to do, something to buy or something special treat, I’d hear him ask, “Mom- can I play my video game since I’m the MVP. Mom-can I eat that whole bag of candy, remember I am the MVP. I get to go stay up late, because I’m the MVP, right?” Unfortunately he quickly learned, the benefits of being the MVP, don’t reach too far outside of the field.

 But super proud we are, and we can’t wait to see him continue to follow in his passion, for it truly is something he loves. He’s already talking about fall ball, while mom and dad try to figure out the schedule and how to make it work. I guess that’s just one of the other many qualities of being a parent. The rewards of watching your child thrive in something that is their passion, is so enjoyable, you’d do almost anything to help them continue to live in that moment. It doesn’t matter that you bake in the sun while it’s 105 degrees , or that you’ve been asked by the opposite teams spectators to keep your littlest child quiet or that your other child (who cares less about sports) has ant bites all up and down his legs from digging in the dirt (to pass the time away from yet another baseball game). Its about sacrifices and rewards and as a family you celebrate them all together.

 Way to go MVP, we are so proud of you.  We love you Gabriel. ….your biggest fan club (Mom, Dad, Michael and Isabelle)

Until next time,

angie

Wordless Wednesday.... Schools Out For Summer!

 No description necessary....

Until next time,
angie

Just stewing...

If I were able to pick one quality about myself that I could change, it would be my nerves.  I've mentioned it before but some nights it seems they get the best of me.  Tonight would be one of those nights.

With the devastating updates NBC sends my phone every 20 minutes about the terrible destruction that Oklahoma has gone through, I can't help but feel a heavy heart for what they are experiencing.  The stories of the school children drowning in the basement of their school, while other children survived thanks to their teacher throwing herself over them in a bathroom stall.  What horror and sadness those few minutes must have been.  And while my heart aches for them, I can't help but think of just how lucky I am to get to tuck in my three little ones.  Sadly many parents tonight, will not get to do the same.

And that's where my nerves get the best of me.  I worry.  What about?  That's hard to put my finger on.  I worry for those families still searching for their loved ones.  I worry for the heartache and sadness that will come in the future days.  I feel worry for all that the state must be experiencing.

Like being punched in the stomach, that's how I feel.  The funny thing is, when I get into one of these moods, I don't even have to vocalize it, Jarrett knows how I'm feeling.  And while some (ahem my husband) might say it is silly, for the life of me I can't change it.    Reassuring he says, "It isn't worth worrying about, all you can do is say some prayers for them." and then we try to move on.

So stew I do.  That's what my grandma use to call it.  As a child, when my grandpa would get all "excited" about politics, my grandma would calmly remind him, "Ray, stop stewing about it."  I can still hear her say it.  Stewing. 

So while I stew about the sadness that makes up the news tonight and I feel sad for all those who have suffered such loss.  In the middle of it, I smile, because in a round about way, these feelings remind me of a woman I loved and miss so very much.  And if she could be here tonight, she'd tell me to stop stewing, to say a prayer, and to go kiss those little dolls that are just a few steps away.

So Grandma, that's just what I'm going to do.

Until next time,
angie

Wordless Wedensday... Mother's Day gifts

This past weekend I was the lucky recipients of many lovely gifts.  I shared the story about it earlier but thought it was time to show some photos...

First Isabelle's gift her teachers at school helped her make...

The funny thing about this gift was that earlier in the week last week I confessed to Jarrett I was a tiny bit sad that I wouldn't get the traditional "school made" gift from Isabelle for Mother's day because she is only going part time.  Except to my surprise on Monday when I went to pick her up, her teacher said, "I bet you thought you weren't going to get one of these since we did it later in the week when she wasn't here.  But Isabelle and I talked and decided you still needed a gift so we just did it today."  I have to admit it made my day and seeing her cute little (or big) foot, is super cute!


And then there were Gabriel's lovely gifts including his special note of love for me...

I think his card is so cute because of his proclamation that I'm the best coker (cooker) in the world.  It makes me laugh to read this because tells me this at least once or twice a week as we have dinner.  This kid truly appreciates every meal as he is always the first one to thank me for what ever meal we are eating and he reminds his brother to say thank you also.  How lucky am I to have him as a son?

And then there was Michael's gift.  Again so precious and nice.

His drawing so cute and as I looked at it I said, that is really nice Michael.  Thank you.  At which point he said, "Mom turn it over there is more on the back about you..."  And so I did, and this is where the wordless Wednesday comes into play.  As I read through each of the nice statements about myself, we got to the one about how much my mom weighs....

Michael said, "Mom, my teacher made me change it, to a 1 instead of a 2.  Mom, I know I was right and that you weigh 215 pounds so even though it says a 115 just know, I really mean for it to say 215 okay?"

I just smiled and said, "Thanks Michael, just don't guess how much your girlfriends weigh when you get bigger okay?" 

Got to love the things kids say right?

Until next time,
Angie

When did she learn all this?

It seems Isabelle is at a stage where every single day her knowledge and vocabulary grow.  It seems each day she says a new word, accomplishes a new feat and impresses us more with her bubbly and daring personality. 

Just today Gabriel asked her, "Isabelle whats my name?" and she responded with a Gabil in a way we surprisingly looked at each other with the look of did she really say what we thought she did?'  And when Gabriel said, "Do you know my name?"  She nodded her head up and down, her newest way to answer yes. 

And then there are the words she says, drink, Jack, cracker, tree, Moma, Dada, keys, Tigger, Pooh, fan, and ball.

Just yesterday we were reading books when I realized she knew more words than I even thought she did.

Here's a quick video of what she showed me yesterday...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ty0T9KvocgE

No longer a little baby, she's a moving, running, not-stop talker who is communicating very actively and having conversations.  Most days I ask myself, how can this be.  And even though the baby stage was so much fun, this stage is just as wonderful.

Until next time,
angie

Mother's Day

While earlier this week we celebrated our three year anniversary of being a family, today we got to celebrate again.  I woke up this morning late (6:20 a.m.) , thanks to Jarrett letting me "sleep in" and after that he let me take 30 minutes to myself and go for a walk.  The boys begged and pleaded to go with me saying, "Mom- PLEASE CAN I GO RUNNING WITH YOU, I PROMISE I'LL KEEP UP .  and so I gave in and let them come with me (knowing this would mean I'd barely make it to the end of the block without the boys wanting to turn back).  So along we went while Dad took Isabelle and Jack for a walk and yes it was 6:30 in the morning.

As Michael, Gabriel and I took off, the boys were full steam ahead, running as fast as they could, until Gabriel noticed I wasn't "racing" and decided to come back and walk with me so I wouldn't feel bad I was so slow.  Talking together, it wasn't 20 seconds later when I saw Michael 30 steps ahead,  bent in half, huffing and puffing.  He said, "Mom, can we turn around and go home?"  We seriously weren't even to the end of the block.  So we tracked down dad and sent the boys to go with him, which meant Mom got some quiet time, which as selfish as it sounds, was warmly welcomed. 

As I returned home and walked through the door, my family greeted me by singing Happy Mothers Day and immediately demanded that I open the slue of handmade gifts and cards waiting on the table.  There was the handmade drawing by Isabelle which Jarrett translated to show it was a picture of Pooh and Tigger sitting by a tree and a hill.  And for Gabriel, he made me two handmade cards, plus a flower shaped necklace made of out of clay and a painted flower pot with flowers in it.  Just one of the flowers happen to be holding a picture of him.  And then there were Michael's gifts that he had so patiently been holding onto for 5 days under his bed.  Everyday for the last week he'd wake up and ask, "Mom, is today Mother's Day?"  And when I'd say no he'd ask, "Well than how many more days do I have to wait to give you your presents?"  I'd answer and then he's say, "Mom, you are going to love it, your going to have so many presents it will be like your birthday."  Perhaps the most excited to give the gifts of all the kids, he presented me with a handmade necklace with six beads (even though they were only suppose to have 2, he said I got 6 because I was the bestest mom and the art teacher said it was okay) and then a hand print of his own with a cute saying on it.  He asked me to read it out loud and as I read it, I found myself choking up.  It talked about how they are little now but soon they will be grown and the fingerprints that are on every thing now that I complain about will one day be gone as they'll all be grown.  Again, makes me sad to think about.  The gifts were lovely and will be cherished gifts for ever. 

After the grand gift opening, which seemed like Christmas morning, we had a nice family breakfast where Jarrett ran off to the store to get me some of the needed ingredients we didn't have at home.  At  his return he made a comment that the store was filled with dad's, all helping each other find certain things at the store, obviously for their mom/wives waiting at home. 

After church Jarrett had to go to work so that meant the kids and I were home to enjoy a simple and quiet Mother's Day together.  We read books, we played Star Wars with light sabers, hide and seek and we even watched a rodeo show on TV.  The boys learned a lot about rodeos (we've never watched one before) and LOVED the names of the bulls, shouting the seconds that each rider was able to stay on.  Something new and yet so simple, we enjoyed just being together.  In a way I felt bad, lazy almost, that I didn't have something grand planned, that we didn't venture out, that I didn't leave the house after church.  And yet, while we didn't have the grandest of mother's day plans, it was wonderful. 

Simple.

Loving.

Genuine

Pure Quality Time

And while I didn't take pictures to recap the day, I did my best to just be in the moment.  There came a part in the day when I couldn't resist and had to record the moment.  After playing Star Wars Gabriel asked if we could dance.  Yes, Dance.

Maybe it is an Ellen thing.  Maybe it was just a spontaneous request or maybe that was just another way for us to celebrate us getting to be together. 

So you know what we did....

we danced.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-poUiRTrkAM


And this mom recorded it, because, as Michael's poem reminded me, some day they'll be grown and celebrating with their own wives and families and I'll want to look back.  Because these are some truly special times.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mom's out there. 

Until next time,
Angie

PS:  And to those who are praying and waiting to become a mom, I send prayers for patience, hope and peace.  I remember so badly wanting to be a mom and how much this holiday hurt.  And while my words can't take away the feelings that may be experienced today, I hope that you can look forward to the future and believe in a bigger plan.  However one becomes a mom, through birthing or through adoption, when that day happens, please trust me when I say, you heart will heal and overflow with love.  It is a love you've never experienced before and a love that will make this difficult process all worth it.  Thinking of those who are future mom's on this special day too.

A world standing still...

As a child, running through the Iowa grass with the wind blowing my hair all around, I often remember thinking how I couldn’t wait to grow up.  I couldn’t wait to be an adult; to have a job, to have a family to have, it all.

And now as an adult, I look back on my childhood with so much happiness, innocence and joy that I find myself wondering why I had ever wished it away.

In a strange, glass-half-empty approach to life, I look up the local obituaries from my home town.  I guess it is something as a young child, I observed all the adults doing.  I remember listening to my grandparents, my parents and friends gathering around a table and discussing the latest town news… “Did you hear Gladis Smith passed yesterday?  “No but on the Oelwein KOEL AM radio obituary announcements this morning, I heard so and so died.”  And so now as an adult I guess it’s just one of things I absorbed through osmosis, or at least that’s who I’m going to blame.

And that leads me to Marianne Mashek.

Who might that be you ask.  She’s one, one of many people whose faces I remember and whose image represents to me a life, a life in a world that should still be standing still.  Do you know what I mean? Am I making any sense?  I fear no.   Have you ever visited a place that you had gone to many years before, and upon returning you were surprised to see that it had changed, it seemed different, maybe smaller,  maybe older and just not the same way you remember?  That is who Marianne Mashek is to me. 

Growing up with parents who ran a ballroom, there were many a weekends spent at the “hall” helping clear off tables, wash dishes and serve cake.  Being there to help, also meant that we were able to celebrate many a celebrations with friends and community members from all areas of Northeast Iowa.  With the ballroom a part of my entire childhood, there were many parties for the community to have, from graduations, to weddings, to anniversaries and even the annual Memorial Day veterans tribute which brought out the entire town.  With all those celebrations in a close knit community, it was no coincidence strangers became familiar faces and in many cases friends.  Even to a little girl, who grew a bit taller with each passing year and whose responsibilities adapted from just setting up chairs, to helping dry dishes, to eventually serving cake. 

You know most people in their lives strive to leave a mark, to impact those around us positively and to make the world better for at least one person.  There’s that old saying that you never know how many lives you’ve impacted in your life and as I think about it, it’s true.  I haven’t seen Marianne Mashek in probably close to 15 years and yet to me, she is still that friendly, white-haired, 60ish lady, that Lawler staple, that would turn her head to the side, bend over slightly (to be closer to my level) and she’s say, “Well, hi Angie…. How are you?”  Did she have an impact in my life?  Yes.  Did she ever realize it?  I am confident, no.  And although it seems she was just a friendly face with a kind persona, she did impact me.  She is a part of the memory of my youth, which I cherish and look back fondly on.

That’s it.  In my mind, life as I remember it should be stopped, where no one is aging, where the celebrations continue and the life remembered still continues day after day.  Think Groundhog’s day movie, on loop.  And it in those moments, when I pull up the obituaries and I see the news of a face I recognize but one that has aged some, and learned they have left this world, that I’m reminded.

 Life does not stop.  The memories of my youth are not on repeat.  And in what seems a glimmer of a second, time is slipping away.

So now that I’m wholly depressed, I remind myself to think of the today.  I have been blessed with three little people who are in the middle of that magical stage of life called childhood.  And although I will never get that time back in my life, I do get to be a part of their childhood, of their magical memory making years and it makes me challenged to help them make the most of it.   Am I helping to create the ever so perfect memories of childhood for my three little people?  Am I giving them the experiences I so cherish now?  What will be there “go-to” moment that they think about in 30 so years from now? 

Although reading the obituaries may seem like a pessimist action in an already negative-news society, in a strange way it is good for me.  Not only does it allow me to reflect on what a wonderful childhood I had and the many wonderful acquaintances I shared it with; it also reminds me of just how delicate life is.  How to be thankful for the family members still in my life, to be considerate of those family memories suffering from their loved-one’s loss.  And mostly, it reminds me to be thankful for what I have today.  Although I miss being a little girl, running through the long-soft-blades of grass in rural Iowa, I’m thankful to have had that time and to be where I am today.  For if I wasn’t where I am now, I wouldn’t get to experience the joy, the happiness and the innocence in the eyes of my three little ones today.

Until next time,

angie

A horse walks into a bar...

And the bartender says, "Why the long face?

So now that I have your attention, this post has nothing to do with a horse, a bar or a bartender.　 It’s really just my attempt to win you back with humor.　

My blogging attempts these past few weeks have been weak, actually non-existent would be more accurate and although each night I tell myself to go update the blog, the reality is, I just can’t seem to peel myself off the couch.　 And when I finally do roll from there, the calling of my bed is much more enticing.

To be truthfully honest and open, this past month has been a bit chaotic for us.　 We’ve been struck with the spring flu (What’s the spring flu you ask? My coined term for getting the flu out of normal flu season), not once but twice!!!!　 And in between, there was a trip to the ER (for me this time), where I learned the doctors had found a mass and that surgery was unavoidable.　 With my surgery 2 weeks ago now, we are trying to adjust back to normal and praying for a day when we all feel well.

In some ways, it is just comical and all one can do is laugh. Two days before my surgery Isabelle got the flu. The day after I had surgery and when I felt like I had been hit by a MAC truck, Jarrett came down with the flu.　 Then, almost like clockwork the very next day, my phone rang and while I lay on the couch counting down the minutes til my next percocet, I listened as the school nurse told me to come pick up Michael, he was throwing up and had a fever.　 The flu had struck its next victim.　 And through the house it went.　 Again, one can only laugh.　 (Oh and thank God for parents:　 my mom and Jarrett’s parents were life-savers for us).　　 Finally, just this  pastweekend we thought we were turning a corner until Isabelle woke up Sunday with a 104.2 degree fever.　 I really don’t like spending my Sunday evenings in Urgent Care.　 Seriously, getting us all healthy at once shouldn’t be this difficult.

Sometimes it seems things all hit and once.　 Even when one is on their "A" game, it can be hard to get everything done one needs to.   However, I’ve learned not to take feeling well for granted because trying to do everything I need to do, while feeling crappy; well that’s just so much worse.　 And yet, while I complain and grumble about feeling yucky, I still have to be thankful that this is only temporary.　 When I finally got into bed last night, well past my normal bedtime, I turned on the TV to unwind for a minute or two. 　 I saw a commercial for a fundraiser Phoenix Children’s Hospital is doing for terminally ill children.　 And like getting hit in the head with a ton of bricks, I told myself to keep things in perspective.　 For those children, some may never know what it is like to feel better again.

And so while it may take us another week or two, or even a month to get everyone healthy again, I am hopeful that that day is nearer than it was yesterday. So be thankful for the day, I will, because there is always something to smile about, to laugh about and to be thankful for. Even if its as tiny as a corny joke about a horse in a bar.

Until next time,

Angie

Wordless Wednesday... 3 years ago today

Three years ago today, the boys came to live with us (and never left).

 I remember feeling nervous and speechless as we met them and brought them to see our house, their forever home for the first time. 

And today I reflect back and wonder, how can it already be three years?  Some days it feels like that day should be yesterday and other days it feels like we’ve been a family forever.

Until next time,

Angie

Wordless Wednesday: 47 month pregnancy

The other day Jarrett told me about a conversation he and Gabriel had had.

I’m not even sure what the topic of conversation was ,but it had something to do about an event in the early 2000’s.

I guess Gabriel, in deep discussion said, “Dad, I was around in 2002 but I waited to come out (as in be born) until 2005.”

Unsure how to respond, I guess Jarrett just said.  “Oh”

Guess that is one LONG pregnancy for his birth mom.  Maybe I should be thankful I didn’t carry him.

Until next time,

angie