Four months go by

I have been mute since April.... April which seems like four years ago, instead of four months. April before we partied with my new two-year old, before friends donated blood with us, before we had (pretend) tea, and dug up shells on the beach, and clapped when the whales jumped out of the water and drove 1500 miles to ride horses with Grandpa and eat ice cream with cousins. Yes, that was before kindergarten ended and concussions were had and heads stapled. I guess that for four months we have been piling up experiences - we have giggled and cried and had more than a few tantrums, and all of the sudden it is mid-August and summer isn't just ahead, but almost over. And while I am sick-to-death of Texas summer heat, I mourn the end of summer's late nights and schedule-less days, but mostly I mourn the hours that Katelin will soon be with Mrs. Somebody instead of home with us - eating popsicles, making trophies out of paper cups that say "#1 sister", selling lemonade, and playing pirates with Seth.

Katelin isn't too excited either, telling me, "I have a bad feeling about first grade." Even though I wanted to say, okay, stay home with me and be a pirate forever, I smiled and said, "It's gonna be great." I really hope those first-grade teachers don't make a liar out of me.

Success

Lina plays in the dirt (I'm just happy she isn't eating it).

I guess I've given up on perfection... sometimes. Today I'm just happy that I purchased groceries, that my kids played in the dirt (even if they didn't all make it to the tub tonight), and that, after two days, I finally managed to wash the pants and undies that were smelling up the laundry room. I guess it's the little things. Happy almost weekend.

#533 - The sound of Trevor's brad nailer

Inspired by this book, I made a goal to count one thousand gifts in my life. I'll be sharing some of my list and insights with you as I go along this little journey.

It is a late-night Saturday when I hear it. This one project pulls at Trevor. He can't resist working on it. I don't blame him. I think we are more excited about it than the kids. I fantasize about all of the dreaming and playing and childhood that might happen inside these four walls. I wonder, if maybe, this house, with it's miniature doors and windows, might keep them small just a little longer... Or at least let them hold the magic of childhood while they can.

I hope so. I don't know. But when I hear the sound of the brad nailer, I'm thankful for it... and all of the magic that tool might bring.

Maybe doesn't always mean no...

Trevor after I said, "Yes."
(Just kidding)

Sometime during my 24^th year of life, I became known as the “maybe” girl. My hallmark line was from a song by Jack Johnson, “It seems to me that maybe, pretty much always means no.”

My roommates and several of our friends loved to tease me about my inability to commit to anything. Movies with our friends upstairs? Game night at Dave's? Meeting up at Cafe Sabor? My response – Maybe. Maybe. And Maybe.

In my case, however, maybe didn't always mean, no. For me it really meant maybe. I guess I'm someone who likes to think through things. Spontaneity is not my forte.

So apparently, it was no surprise that when Trevor Budge, the new guy who was just starting to seem kind of extraordinary to me, showed up at Ro's birthday party inviting us all to Yellowstone for a weekend trip, my response, was, “Maybe.”

I remember well mulling over the decision in my head. There was something about Trevor, but I wasn't really sure how I felt about him. I had plenty going on as a second-year junior high teacher, and I just wasn't sure I could afford a weekend away...

So, I did what I always do with decisions small and big. I prayed. The answer came to my mind,How will you ever know about Trevor if you don't go?

I called him the following morning (the day of the trip), “I'm coming.” I told him.

Trevor would later tell me how surprised and excited he was when he got that phone call. This time, maybe had become a yes... And when he asked me to marry him two months later, I said, “Yes,” once again, this time, with no hesitations.

Still no hesitations, eight years and six days later.

Don't we all need a break sometimes?

For the past few days, I've been alone on the parenting front, while Trevor was off on business. I had the kids all to myself.

She's kind of irrestistible.

That meant that for three days, when I heard teasing, and crying, then screaming after school, the kids were all mine.

It meant when a whiney toddler cried because her granola bar was broken, she was all mine.

And, when a certain almost-four year old wandered into my bedroom at 5:53a.m. wide awake, he was all mine. Let's just say these past two days haven't been bliss.... which is what makes the complete silence at my house, so completely blissful just now.

A happy artist.

Mostly I like Lina's constant chatter, Seth's romping around, and Katelin bossing both of them, but I have to admit, there is nothing like a little break.

Sethie puts on his pirate face, while dog sports a peg leg and a hook on his hand.

What's for Dinner...

Trevor snapped this at Barnes and Noble. Should we be worried?

A year ago...

This page is really in need of an update, so here is something, just so I have something new to look at -my kids, one year ago. At the end of 2011, I don't look back and see any monumental accomplishments or goals I have achieved, but I must have done something because, look at the change in my kids. Hope you are all enjoying the new year. Maybe I'll start blogging again sometime.

A year ago, she was barely crawling, learning pat-a-cake and winning us over with her smiles. Now she is running, digging, begging for candy, and talking nonstop.

A year ago, Katelin had just started at a new preschool, and loved it. Now she is reading constantly and writing full-blown stories.

I love this picture of Seth. In some ways, he is exactly the same, but his speaking has evolved so much. He knows the alphabet, he is climbing higher and jumping farther at the playground, and in many ways, he isn't quite the little baby he was a year ago.