Brutal

Today was hard.  Brutal.  Sometimes being a mom is super hard.  Sometimes life in general is hard.  It doesn't mean that I'm failing as a mother or that I'm doing life wrong.  It is just hard, because it is.  As one of my favorite author's, Glennon Melton, says, "Life is brutiful."  So even though today there were tears and moments of panic where I thought I might literally lose all my hair because I will pull it out (and if there were any left, it would all be gray), there were also those moments through the day where Jesus whispered to me, "I didn't forget you.  I am right here with you.  I care about the little things that are on your heart."  And I am also fairly certain that he reminded me to take a lot of deep breaths.

On a day where I was pretty sure everything that could have gone wrong did, he reminded me of his love in the little things like my oldest son asking if he was being a good helper to me.  Or my middle son demonstrating his truly loving heart (in between temper tantrums).  Or my toddler who I am pretty sure is trying to break me, showing me pure joy and giving me kisses that he is usually very stingy with after we had been apart a few [much needed] hours.  Or hearing my baby's beautiful heartbeat.  Or having my husband tell me to turn on a movie for the big kids and go take a nap.  (He is worth his weight in gold.)  Or maybe it's by showing me that the friends I am blessed with and sometimes feel distant from because we are all living this hard life really are right there when you need them the most.  Or maybe it's the friend who lets you cry like the crazy hormonal lady you are, but still makes you feel like your reasons are completely valid.  Or maybe it's the fact that I did hear Jesus when he told me to take those breaths.  Or getting to sit and watch my kid do his best or even struggle in something that he loves.  Those things, those are the way Jesus shows his love to me on these hard days.  So, who needs a burning bush?  The only fires I like include s'mores anyway.

As for tomorrow, I have hope.  It's going to be a great day.  Or maybe it'll be hard and brutal and crazy, but at least I know that even if it is, there will be beautiful miracle moments in there somewhere.  But maybe, just maybe if it is like today, I'll dig through the hard stuff and breathe in one of my miracle moments, small as it may seem.  I hope.

Back to Work...in a New Way

I've spent the last six months applying for teaching jobs in Missouri.  I've taught for a total of six years in Missouri and Kansas, and never in my wildest imagination would I have thought that it would be so unbelievably hard to get hired.  I love, love, love being a stay-at-home-mom, but my husband and I knew that this would only be a one year thing, and now it's time to go back to work.  I have wanted to move home to Springfield for 4 years now, and finally, Ryan was ready to go too.  (I guess having three kids makes it easier when you think that you might have family close who want to help out some.)  So, I got to work applying and e-mailing and even visiting schools and principals with resumes.  I probably applied for at least 60 positions in the Springfield/Branson area.  It was ridiculous.  I would completely obsess over looking for new openings that had posted.  I had two, count them TWO interviews before this week.  So, things have changed....

Up to this point, I had refused to put in any applications in Kansas, because I felt like that would be giving up on moving.  Since nothing had been happening at all (and to appease my father-in-law), I decided to apply for a position in Independence for a kindergarten Title teacher.  I went to that interview on Monday, and the whole way there (in the pouring rain and hail), I had a conversation with myself and God about how I didn't want this job, I was just going because it would be good interview practice. 

On Tuesday, I went to an interview in Hollister, Missouri (by Branson).  Now, this isn't where I would have chosen to be, but I figured even 45 minutes from my parents was better than two hours.  It was for a fifth grade position, and I felt it went well.  After this interview I was very torn.  I talked with my friends and family, I cried, I prayed, I stressed over the waiting for answers.  The answer came quickly....

On Tuesday evening, I got a job offer from Hollister.  I asked if I could please have the evening to talk with my husband.  As soon as I hung up the phone, I told my mom, "I really want that job in Independence."  It was as clear to me as if it was written in the sky.  So, I talked with my friends and family, I cried, I prayed, and I stressed over the waiting for answers, and then I slept.  A good, restful, peaceful night's sleep like I haven't had in months. 

On Wednesday morning, I was on the phone praying with my friend, Christy, when I got the call from Independence.  I was asked, "Well, would you still like to be a part of our school?" and I said, "YES!"  I could not stop smiling.  God had changed my heart.  I never in a million years would have thought that I could want to stay in Coffeyville for another year, but I am so happy!  Even more than that, before I felt like we were forcing the move home, and now I have an absolute peace that we will be there, just not now.  When we do go, it will be on our terms, and not in two weeks before school starts as I frantically search for preschool and childcare (which I already have set up here). 

I'm so thankful that I was offered both jobs, so that staying here was my choice and not just because I wasn't offered a job in Missouri.  I am so excited for the opportunity that I am going to have in this new teaching position.  I am looking forward to having a drive with my Brennon every day as he will be going to school with me.  I'm thankful that God saw us through the entire process even when things seemed horrible.  It was in that darkness that I could hear him speak to me the loudest.  This time he said, "Erin, I know that your heart's desire is to be back home, but for right now, I have something even better planned for you." 

I know it seems crazy and unexpected.  It's totally different than what I thought would make me so happy, but please be happy with us.  Don't get me wrong, there's a part of me that's sad that my trips home will be on weekends still, and I want to be closer to my parents and family and friends here, but while we're here, we are not going to spend the next year wishing our time away.  We've been so blessed with great jobs, good friends, a wonderful church, and so many other things.  That remains true no matter where we are.  And for now, Go Bulldogs!

My Perfect* Son

Tonight I went and laid next to my oldest son while he slept.  I snuggled up next to him and listened to him breathe.  Were there times I was short with him today?  Maybe...but he knows I love him and I always will...no matter what.  This time though, was completely perfect.  Rain falling outside, I let my breathing get in sync with his.  I pretended this means our hearts are beating in sync too, which means he will always be my baby, and I will always be his momma.  I love him more with each new thing I learn about him or watch him learn about the world.  I had to capture this moment of mommy elation, because Lord knows when I step on a Lego tomorrow, I'm going to need it.  But for now I'm off to bed, thankful for my perfect [while he is sleeping] angel.  XO, BC.

The Darkness Before the Light

Almost exactly a year ago, I remember sitting with a dear friend at the park and confiding in her something that I was really afraid to verbalize up until then.  While watching the kids play and sipping on our chocolate shakes, I said, "I'm afraid that I will never have a strong connection with Gavin." 

There were several reasons for me to say this.  He always had gravitated toward Ryan, we are so much alike that we often butt heads, but mostly I was afraid that I had lost that critical bonding time with him when he was so small.  I went into a deep, dark postpartum depression that scared me to the core.  The truth of the matter is, I don't remember a lot of those earlier days with Gavin.  I think the memories are fuzzy as a way of protecting me, because as most of my friends and family know, my memory is like a steel trap (except for things I need at the store or errands I should run).  I remember the first few weeks when my mom stayed with us, but after that it kind of becomes a haze of colicky nights and mastering the art of avoiding other people.  There were also a lot of other stressful things happening in our lives at that time with my work, family health, etc...that certainly didn't add to the situation.  I have a few memories that were bright moments of perfection that pierced the darkness that surrounded my soul.  I remember things like going to the kiddie park, trips to Kansas City and visiting family, but the day-to-day stuff, the place where life really happens, is kind of a blur.   Not everything was bad, I mean, how can it be with a baby as precious as Gavin (once the colicky part was done).  There were days that were better than others, I have pictures where I can see real and genuine smiles, but there's a lot where you can also see a smile that isn't really there. 

Gavin's first laugh.  This I remember.

Thank God I was with it enough to plan this.  I mean, how cute are they?

Gavin's first Christmas.  More real smiles from both of us.

This picture made me sad.  This is an example of the blur of this time.  I cannot remember Brennon's room ever being arranged this way.  I just kept staring at it and wondering if I had a hand in it. 

I have started praying in the last year or so that God would give me back the memories without showing me the darkness that I was living in during that time.  It's the kind of darkness that if light was shined on it, the light wouldn't make the darkness disappear, it would just illuminate all of the ugliness that the darkness had caused.  Thank God that I had a friend who cared about me enough to resist the way I was pushing her [everyone] away, and suggest that I consider my options as far as medication*.  I couldn't go back though, and by the time that cracks of light began to shine through, I had missed a lot.  I pray that I am a natural enough mother that I was as good to him during that time as I should have been. 

When Gavin was 10 months old, I was rocking him and I remember I started singing to him.  It was such a breakthrough and I was crying because I felt like I really wanted to sing.  It wasn't a halfhearted rendition of Twinkle, Twinkle anymore.  I wanted to sing to my boy in a way that he would know that his momma loved him.  We picked up from there.  I couldn't think about everything I had missed. 

My husband was amazing with Gavin.  He must have just known exactly what he needed and gave it to him.  They were a natural fit.  My little boy who shared my looks had a heart that belonged to his one and only, his daddy.  I am so glad they have that bond, and it's hardly fair for me to be jealous of it, because the connection I have always had with Brennon (Ryan's mini-me) has been strong.  At this time, Ryan was also staying home with the boys during the day while I worked.  (And then he worked at night....go, husband!  I mean, I can't imagine working and then working some more.  He's a champion!)  So it seemed natural that Gavin would be close with him, but it still hurt my feelings that every time he got hurt or scared, he never wanted me.  He wanted his daddy.  But that day in the park, I said what I was really afraid of, and it just made me more scared.

Although I'm going to stop here, please don't be sad for me.  I want you to understand my story, my journey, where and how far I've come.  Because the story is far from over, and I think you needed to see this part, because this part has shaped me, so that when I talk to you about what happens next, you will smile along with me too.


*I am in no way suggesting that medication is the necessary treatment for everyone who experiences postpartum depression.  I am simply stating that it is a very real medical condition and ignoring it or pretending it is not there will not make it go away. 

The Fight that Gets Us Fired Up, Conclusion

It's been three weeks since I told you to come back tomorrow.  For three weeks I've been sitting on that lovely stump called writer's block, but the truth of the matter is that sometimes the best way to get past it is just to write anyway.  It's not always pretty and polished, and sometimes it's just downright ugly, but I have to forge ahead.  (Also, I'm going on nine months without a good night's sleep, so if you think it's terrible, I'll allow you to say, "Bless her heart, she must be tired.")  When I started the series about stay-at-home vs. working moms, I had a million thoughts swimming through my brain, but I just can't quite seem to really get a grip on a single one.  So, I'm going to be a truth-teller, and I can't worry any more about who I'm going to offend or who is going to look at me differently.  For me, it all boils down to this....I'm scared.

I did them both, and I did the best I could at it.  Well, most of the time I did.  For me, the choice is clear that I would love to be at home for as long as I could, but the fact of the matter is that it's just not feasible for our family.  I wish it was, but it's not.  I'm not resentful of the fact that I'll be going back to work, but that doesn't mean that I won't cry sometimes.  I know that so much is going to change as I do return to the world of working moms.  I'd like to say that I will cherish each moment with them and make every moment count, but I won't.  I'll do my best, but sometimes I'll be tired.  Sometimes the best that I'll be able to do is sit on the couch at the end of the day and watch four episodes of Peppa Pig.  I don't judge other moms for doing it, so I'll try to forgive myself as well.  I'll look for those Kairos moments when time stands still and things are perfect, and I will cherish that moment and hold it in my heart with a death grip while I go through my work days until the next time one presents itself.

More than anything I am scared because I don't want my friendships to change.  I have been on the mountains and in the trenches of stay-at-home mommyhood this year, and I know that sometimes moms need an outlet, and soon I'll have work for that while my friends who stay-at-home will be desperately seeking time with other adults and conversations that do not include words like potty or boo-boo.  And although I love teaching and I'm thankful for my career, my heart will ache to be at home, so I'm afraid.  I'm afraid, because I know that sometimes I hear SAHMS complaining about how they feel like they are going to go crazy being home.  Believe me, I've had my days, but I try so hard to keep my complaints to those few friends who have seen me at my best and worst, because I know that broadcasting my "poor me, I have to spend all my time with my children" rants on the Internet is only going to twist the knife of jealousy into the wound of those who desire with everything in them to be at home.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not going to try to make my life seem perfect....it's not.  Being a mom is HARD, and being a wife is HARD, and sometimes being a friend is HARD, but pretending to be a perfect mom, wife, or friend is harder.   And the hard work of being any and all of those is what makes life so beautiful.  So, whether you love it or hate it, remember that your words effect those in your circle.  Don't judge others for whatever motherhood choices they are making, because you never know their reasons, their stories, or their journeys unless you're willing to really listen.

The Fight That Gets Us Fired Up, Part Two

This is the second part in a three part series about working moms vs. stay-at-home moms.  To be clear, I do not think that one is better than the other, I think that it is a personal choice that every mom must make, taking into account every aspect of their family life.  This is just my thoughts on the positive and negatives that I experienced into my foray into both sides of motherhood.  To get caught up, go back one post and read part one, because you'll be really lost and won't understand a thing if you don't.  No, I'm kidding.  But, here we are now in 2008, and after a year of being home with my firstborn son, I was about to enter the world of the working mom.

As I said, before, I was not happy, but I was doing what I knew I needed to do for our family.  I went into a new district with a nontraditional, high stress classroom setting, and that did not help matters.  The first few weeks, I would cry every time I would think about my son, Brennon, being away from me for so long, but once school actually started, I didn't have time for that.  What I know is this:  I.  Was.  Tired.  Sure, I was pregnant and had a 14 month old, but really I felt stretched thin.  Maybe all working moms don't feel that, but I did.  Thankfully, I had a job that I liked to go to, but I would often think of all those moms that didn't enjoy their jobs.  Moms who were working one and sometimes two jobs out of necessity.  Moms who would spend their time away from their children unhappy.  Moms who (like most working moms) end up spending a lot of their paycheck on childcare.  I realized how precious my time when I was not at work was, and I felt bad.  My poor one friend that I talked about in the last post.  She had been working full-time the whole time and never once complained when I asked her to take time on one of her sacred days off to take care of my child so that I could have a break.  Staying at home, most mothers feel like they need a break like an occasional night out with friends, but as a working mom, my only break was work.  I made a few more friends now that I was outside of the house more, and sometimes they would ask me to go do something with them on a weekend, and I would think, "I already spend so much time away from my kid, why would I want to take even more time away from him?"  It was a completely different dynamic.

New curriculum = More boxes = More forts!  Score one for the working mom!

I worked for four years before taking another year off.  The first year was an adjustment, the second year was my first year working while having two kids.  That year, I was in a dark place.  It wasn't just because I was working.  I struggled with a major bout of postpartum depression.  I had the hardest class of my career.  I wanted to move back home to Springfield.  My husband's career took unexpected turns.  It was a tough year.  This is a time that I feel deserves its own blog post, but frankly, I'm not ready to be as honest about it as I feel I need to be.  The time will come, but not now.  The deal was, I think that it was working at that time that saved me.  I would cry and cry about how much I wanted to be at home with my kids, but sometimes God has you somewhere because he knows what's best for you better than you do.  The routine of having to get up and look decent, going to work, teaching a class, seeing other adults, and trying to make the most of my time with my kids was ultimately a large part of me getting through that time.  I won't ever try to make a working mom feel like I judge her for being away from her kids, because sometimes that's the thing that saves her.

After the darkness was gone, I worked for two more years in a wonderful setting.  It was pretty ideal as far as teaching goes...good school, wonderful team, kids were in good childcare, and we didn't have a lot of unnecessary after-school activities that kept me from going home to my children.  I was good at my job and I loved the children I taught, but because of who I am (not anybody else, just me), my heart still ached to be at home with my kids.  I wouldn't stay after school late to get work done and I wouldn't do any work at home until my kids were in bed asleep.  Because of this, I had a hard time finding balance.  I'm sure that there are working women who rock at this, but it wasn't me.  If you need to grade papers from the time the kids go to sleep until 10:30, you aren't paying much attention to your husband either.  When you have to spend one of your precious weekend days cleaning your house, because the laundry can't do itself during the day, it can be frustrating.  If you come home from work and want to play on the kitchen floor, but have to go make dinner, it can be frustrating, but as a working mom, you make it work.  As a mom who worked, I was always a better manager of my time, because it was such a precious commodity. 

To me, balance was the struggle of the working mother more than anything else.  For this reason, I try my best as a stay at home to honor those women who are trying to do it all, because in my world, it made me weary.  Maybe it's because I live in a real world, where working to me wasn't about trying to show my boys that women can work and be mom, working for me was about trying to contribute to our family financially, and I am thankful that I could do it with a job that I was good at and that I enjoyed.    Thankfully, I feel like I'm a little bit of a natural teacher, because if my job was something that I wasn't too great at on my own, I probably would've cried some more.  My experience as a working mom taught me that your circle of people are there for a reason.  So, if all of your friends are stay at home moms or all of your friends are working moms, why not cross the fence and realize that we all bring something amazing to the table.  We are all moms, and that is magical.

Come back for part three tomorrow....what I've learned now that I've been both.

The Fight That Gets Us Fired Up, Part One.

Working mom vs. Stay-at-home mom.  I don't understand why we need to fight about it.  I really don't.  I think that our world works better with both of us in it, and we should be discussing instead of talking at each other.  Here's the deal, I've done them both.  Mommy guilt is a part of both, and maybe that's what motivates moms to bash the other side, to help them feel better about their own decisions.  I don't know, but I have some thoughts about both that I believe are worth sharing, so that's what I'm here to do.  This post is part one, the stay at home mom of one.

When I was pregnant with Brennon, the hubs and I made plans to move to Kansas.  I'm not going to go into all the details, but the fact was the reason that we were moving was to better our family financially and to make it possible for me to be home with our child(ren in the future).  I was willing to give up my highly desired teaching position at a prominent district in order to be home with my baby.  It was in my heart to do it.  Did I work hard to start my career?  Absolutely.  Did I love teaching?  Of course.  Did I feel like I was taking one in the gut for feminists everywhere?  Um, no.  I also didn't feel like I was persuaded by some secret army of housewives to become one of them.  It was a decision that Ryan and I made together.  It was personal.  I wanted to take the time to savor each and every moment with my son for whom we had waited and waited and waited. 

So, with a three and half week old baby, we moved and got settled and I enjoyed my time at home.  I spent time having fun with my boy.  I didn't make mommy friends, I wasn't as productive as I should have been, and I didn't really think about how my staying at home effected anyone else inside or outside my circle.  I had a much harder time being away from my family than I ever thought I would.  I would second guess my decisions sometimes and wonder if I was doing things wrong.  I probably watched much more television than I should have.  I would ask my one friend to watch him sometimes on the weekend for a few hours, because he was easy and I wanted to have time to just be a couple.  She was great and told me she didn't care, because she had a son who loved Brennon.  I was not a perfect mom at all, but I know I was a good mom, and I loved my boy more than life itself. 

I remember so much about that year with my Brennon.  I remember rocking him, singing to him, watching Baby Einstein and talking about what was on the screen, reading, reading, reading, and more reading.  I remember details about that year, because I'm that crazy lady who feels like I cannot forget anything, because life just won't be as important if there aren't 15,000 pictures to document each year (I'm still working on this!)  I did things like take him to the pumpkin patch and the Christmas parade, because he was sure to remember it all, right?  It wasn't perfect, and I remember thinking that life with a baby was really hard sometimes, but it was my life and I didn't want to change it.  B was such a good baby, and at some point during that year, I remember Ryan's uncle saying, "Oh, he's an easy baby.  She's going to want another one soon." 

See, I told you he'd remember it....and he looks thrilled, right?  His friend, Drake, is the son of my one and only friend that I mentioned.  They are still good friends to this day!

I didn't want to go back to work, but I knew I had to for the financial well-being of our family.  I was sad.  Really, really sad.  I cried a lot.  I cried some more and told that one friend that I was going to miss everything.  I found a great sitter, and I felt a little better.  I told myself it would be okay, because I had the perfect schedule if I did have to work, and then a few days before I went back to work, I found out we were pregnant again.  So, I cried some more.  Not about having another baby.  I wanted that (as predicted by Uncle Right-on-the-Nose).  But I cried because I was hormonal and leaving my baby and probably also because of things like the cankles were coming back or worrying about if my new teacher friends would like me or my hair looked funny today or that pizza didn't have enough sauce.  All valid concerns during pregnancy, but still, what kind of mom would I be leaving my son everyday? 

Now, I'm not judging, remember this was called part one.  Guess what?  There's more.  In fact, there are two more parts to this.  That may seem like too much, but I am certain that every mom out there has either felt or fought from feeling many of the emotions that I will address, and in the next one, it gets real.  I'm going to be completely honest about more than what I'm comfortable with, but what I know needs to be put out there.  Stay tuned...

What I Know

As a woman who has had three children in five years, I've learned a lot.  I have all the answers.  No, I'm totally kidding.  There is a lot of stuff I do not know, such as why I can cook almost anything except for fried eggs, why nap times are never when you need them to be (it's like they don't even care that you would like to go somewhere), or why boys of all ages have really terrible aim (yuck!).  However, I have had a lot of experiences that I feel give me a bit of wisdom that I can pass on.  I have a lot of friends with babies right now, so I thought I'd pass on what little bit of knowledge I have to you. 

First of all, you are going to get bombarded with stuff that you "have to have" for your baby that you and your baby don't really need at all.  For example, wipes warmers.  Would you like your booty wiped with a warm wipe?  Sure, but guess what, you don't need it.  My firstborn had this luxury, and it was wonderful....until you were out in public somewhere and he screamed like you were a monster when you wiped him with a cool wipe.  Oh the horror...somebody call social services, I can't believe she just wiped him with a non-warmed wipe.  Yeah, it broke a few weeks after that, and by broke I mean, started smelling like it was burning and this momma didn't want my house to be burnt down so my baby's booty could be warm.

There are a few things that you really should get too, and although everybody has a different opinion, I'm just going to give you mine (the most important one on this blog).  I'm totally kidding...please don't think I'm a jerk...keep reading...please.  I'm just going to tell you about a few things that have made my life as a mom to a baby easier...and then I'm going to post another post tomorrow that talks about the real stuff, so come back then, but still pass this on to the new mommies you know!

Ok, here we go.  My dear friend, Kathy, gave me the book The Happiest Baby On The Block when I was pregnant with Brennon.  I read it, and listened to the main points, but the deal was that Brennon was probably the easiest baby in the world, so it didn't really matter.  Then came the next one, and Gavin was, well, not the easiest baby in the world.  This book became my lifesaver, and by the time boy #3 came along, the book's main points had become second nature to me.  Seriously so helpful.

Invest in some good teethers.  They make your life so much easier.  The best one ever is hard to find in stores, but you can get it on Amazon, and it's called The Wimmer.  I seriously bought an extra one when I was afraid I lost it once.  It's so easy to clean too, so woo hoo!  The other teether you need is Sophie the Giraffe.  I know you're thinking, $20 for a teether, what a rip!  (Or at least I was!)  But really, it is so great and all my boys love it as a toy beyond the teether.  Also, the hubs calls it their dog toy, because it squeaks, so maybe don't take that one to church.

The not most fun, but necessary item you need to know about is called Calmoseptine.  It's a diaper cream (and used for a whole slew of other things mentioned on the package that are too gross to talk about here).  Now, you don't need this if your baby's bottom gets a little red, but if you have a serious diaper rash you're dealing with, it is the only thing that will clear it up on even the most sensitive skin in no time.  Most pharmacies keep it behind the counter, so don't spend forever looking for it, just ask.  It's like that little gem you've never heard of, but once you use it, you can't believe people aren't shouting it from the rooftops. 

Finally, once your baby is sitting up and starting to crawl, you're going to want one awesome toy that you'll totally get your money's worth on, and the best one ever is this house.  My boys have all loved it, and still do.  Even my oldest will play with it with his baby brother, Fletcher.  The other great thing about it is that it doesn't waste batteries.  As much as this thing is played with, the batteries last forever.  (Oh, and go ahead and buy stock in AA batteries now, trust me, in the future, you'll be happy you did!) 

Ok, I know this didn't pertain to everyone, but I remember what it was like to be a new mommy and be overwhelmed by everything available for babies.  If I helped even one of you, I did my job.  Now, go kiss your babies and don't feel bad about rocking them, it's not time wasted.  You will never, ever regret taking the time to do it.  And remember these two things, 1.  You are doing a good job.  You are tired and hormonal and maybe losing your hair, but you are doing a great job!  and 2.  You are the expert on your baby.   Hope I helped, and remember to come back tomorrow and get a good talking to!

High Five For Friday!

I love the idea of High Five For Friday (H54F)...looking back on the week and seeing the highlights of where you've been and what you've done.  I've read a lot of blogs that participate, but I never had.  So I decided with a week as packed full as ours was, it was the perfect time for me to do it, so here we go...

1. We started the week in Springfield for Easter.   We sure missed having Ryan there with us on Easter morning, but it was still fun and special as we celebrated our risen Lord with Gramma and Poppo!

2. On Tuesday, my baby Fletcher turned 8 months old!  I hate it!  No, I don't, but it's just that delicate balance between wanting my baby to stay tiny forever and enjoying seeing him grow.  But seriously, I do not like the fact that he's getting past the part where he lets me hold him forever, because he wants to be down and exploring the world around him.  8 months...how can this be?

3. Wednesday was my birthday! Woo hoo! It was actually really super.  The hubs actually stayed home on his day off, took care of all the laundry and dishes, brought me flowers and a gift certificate to a massage (who doesn't love that!?!) and we went to lunch in Bartlesville at my favorite restaurant, Frank & Lola's...YUM!  Also, that night my father-in-law and dear friend, Jenifer came over to join us for carrot cake!  It was such a nice, special day...I really loved it!  And also, who doesn't love birthdays on Facebook? You can't help but feel special!

4. Yesterday was Elegant Day in kindergarten. The kids dressed elegantly, ate elegantly, read and sang elegantly, and ballroom danced together. It was probably the sweetest thing ever, and this mama got a little teary at the sight of Brennon dancing with his sweet friend, Kenedi. It was like a glimpse into his future as I know someday he'll be dancing with a girl (other than me...boo hoo!) at his prom and even his wedding. On those days, I'm sure it will seem like just a whisper away from this day. My son is so handsome, just like his daddy. Be still my heart...

5. Yesterday, Gavin also had an Easter party at preschool. It was so cute. The kids had made fruit kabobs with marshmallows, there was a chocolate fountain, a lemonade fountain, cookies, and an Easter egg hunt. They even told us their Bible verse, all with cute little actions. We love Gavy's school, and he does too!

 

  

Hope y'all have a fab Friday & a great weekend. I sure plan to!
If you want to do your own H54F, you can link up over here!

My Gift of Remembrance

It always rains on April 2nd. Or at least it has for the last ten years. I know you probably think that's some crazy statistic that I made up, but I promise that it is not. I know this because the rain is a gift to me. A gift of remembrance as my firstborn son celebrates another birthday with Jesus. When you lose a child, it goes against the natural order of things. It's a make or break time in your life in so many ways...in your faith, your relationships, your hope. At first it was unbearable, and Ryan and I were starting our married life together and clinging to each other with absolute desperation as we endured the horribleness of the situation. We went back and forth with being mad at God, having questions, and feeling like we just wanted Him to hold us in the palm of his hand. And he did. Through it all, he did. And now, all this time has passed and while the hurt has faded, we still have Connor Patrick Wall engraved on our hearts, just as He has us engraved in his hand. The rain is mine though, and I welcome it. When we were finally blessed with our other children, it seemed as if the rest of the world breathed a sigh of relief. Oh good, now they have children, now we don't have to bring up the uncomfortable situation of the son that they lost. The elephant was out of the room, left the building, and had pretty much traveled out of this country. I'm so blessed with Brennon, Gavin, and Fletcher. Don't get me wrong, I have accepted the situation, and I know that someday we will be reunited and my children here will meet their older brother. But on this day, I want to remember, I don't want to forget. And so on this day, Jesus reminds me that it is okay to cry for him, but only for a time, because he is so busy having another amazing birthday celebration which would put all my perfectly planned parties to shame. And on earth a party better than one of mine might irk me, but for my boy, it brings me hope and a perfect peace. Mommy loves you. XO

Life with 3

10 months later, and I'm still here. I cannot believe how much my life has changed since I last blogged. There are about a million things that I can list, but the most important thing is that way back then I was the mom of two precious boys, and now I have three. I heard so many things from my friends who had three or more kids about how much it changes when you have more than two, and as much as they all sounded like cliches, it is so true. We pretty much had it down as parents of two. Oh, not that we were perfect; far from it. Juggling two of anything is really doable: apples, bowling pins, children...believe me, you can do it with some practice. Three is a whole new game.

I'm not at all saying that I don't enjoy having three kids. I do. Really (yes, some days I have to convince myself). It brings me great joy. Yes, joy, frustration, elation, exhaustion, sadness, fun, pride, laughter, and fulfillment all rolled into each and every day. Even now that my baby is seven months old, sometimes I feel like a hormonal, emotional basket case. For a long time I would say that it's just postpartum hormones, but now I think it is just part of being a mom. How could I not feel that every day? My heart is constantly in three pieces, and I'm wearing it on the outside of my body. It's tender, and it gets bounced around and stretched and thrown back together a million times a day.

Staying home with my kids may just add to the mix. I love being home. When I think about going back to work, it makes my heartache. I know that it will come in just a few short months, but for now I'm cherishing my time here. Don't get me wrong, I'm not spending my whole day making lovey eyes at my children. Sometimes cherishing my time at home looks like me pulling my hair out. I have moments every day when I want to freeze time and take a mental picture of how perfect my kids are at this exact moment, and then ten minutes later I am desperately trying to recall that special moment as I put one of them in time-out (for the gazillionth time). I love to hear my kids laugh together. Each bit of laughter is adding to my mom life meter (I have a five year old who is obsessed with video games, it's the best analogy I could come up with) and I try to bank as much of that laughter as I can, because I have no doubt that right around the corner comes the fighting or crying or heaven help me, stepping on a Lego that rapidly depletes it.

Having three makes you more aware that sometimes you are that mom that you've been judging all this time. Yes, I will bribe my kids with the promise of McD's to make it through a trip to Walmart with all three of them. Yes, I will tell them that it's too cold to go to the park when really I don't feel like getting out of the house that day. Yes, I will have nights when I realize that we barely got in five minutes of reading, let alone the recommended 30. Yes, I whisper threats to them in the restaurant to try to get them to quit acting like the kids that they are. Yes, I put off playing with them sometimes to do things like organize a cabinet. Yes, I'll love them with ever fiber of my being, but Lord help me, I'm not about to let them turn out like jerks. Yes, I put them to bed at night and then wonder if I'm doing a good enough job. But I am. I know that I am, because I know that they are my little blessings. I may have to ask my Jesus twenty times a day to give me the strength to not be the worst version of myself, but that's why I know that I am doing a good enough job. Because I know that I care enough about these three precious hearts to be a real and honest mom, even if it's not the pretty, polished version.

Lessons I Learned in Pre-K

Tomorrow is my son, Brennon's, last day in pre-K.  Or maybe not.  I don't know for sure.  See, my boy is a summer baby, and I know that by now we should have decided what's going to be in his future, but we haven't.  Even so, whether or not we decide to put Brennon in kindergarten or another year of pre-K in the fall, he's still ending his first year of school tomorrow.  That's a milestone no matter how you look at it.  During this year, Brennon has learned so much more than I could have imagined, but I've learned quite a bit as well. 

First of all, I've learned or rather, had confirmed that time flies by.  This sounds so ridiculous, because there isn't a parent out there that doesn't say this at some time, but really, it's unbelievable to me that the boy for whom we waited and waited to join our family, is almost five years old.  He speaks like a little man and he is a little man.  I love this little man with all my heart, and I just hope that he knows that I treasure the time that I have with him.  I'm so thankful that he's been trusted to me.

I've learned sometimes God sends people into your life through your children.  My friend, Jenifer and I knew each other before the beginning of the school year.  We were happy that our kids were in the same class, and we even made small talk on the first day of class while they played puzzles at the same table. We hoped they would become good friends, but we had no idea that the two of us would become the best of friends. As Brennon & Serenity became "boyfriend and girlfriend", we found that we loved spending time together as friends with our kiddos more than we could've known.

I learned that he's not going to learn everything from me or from the classroom. Sometimes I'll ask Brennon where he learned something, and he'll tell me from Peppa Pig or from hearing you. The other day, he told me he learned the right way to hug from watching daddy and I hug in the kitchen. This obviously wasn't something we set about to teach him, it was just something he learned from our day to day life. The opportunity for him to learn something is always there, even if I am not always ready to take it. From teaching, I've always heard children are like sponges and may soak everything up, and it is so so true

I learned that relationships formed at an early age, even those outside of the family, are so very important. Tonight, I tried to hold back tears as Brennon told me at bedtime that he did not want to leave his friends and his class. He wanted to go to pre-K with them forever. He didn't want to think about having a new teacher next year, because Miss Kelly and Miss Connie are supposed to be his teachers...forever. He had an amazing first experience in school, and for that I will always be thankful.

3 Years Have Flown By....

Almost two weeks ago now, my little baby turned three.  I know, I know, he isn't my little baby anymore, but he still so is.  Gavin is the boy who helps me see more and more that personality can be strong from the beginning, that children certainly do inherit both the best and worse from their parents, and that humor is undoubtedly necessary in everyday life.  There is so much to say about my Gavs, that I just had to take the time to think back about how we got to this point.  Just a warning, I love this little boy more than life itself, so if I get mushy, well, you've been warned.

My pregnancy with Gavin was so different than that of Brennon.  He gave us scares.  He made sure his entrance was unforgettable:  2 weeks early, the cord wrapped around his neck two times, and wrapped around his big toe once (so that every time that he was kicking, he was pulling the cord), and then we dealt with jaundice for the first week of his life.  His first few months were hard:  colic, a snowstorm the day he came home, postpartum depression, and colic....oh and colic.  Ugh!  But even from the beginning, he was my little cuddle bug.  He would pull his legs up under his tummy and he would snuggle his face into my neck and just cuddle.  He would happily stay in my baby sling, so close to my heart for an hour at a time.  He brought me so much agony (did I mention that he was colicky), and so much joy from the moment he entered our world. 

I'm sure I'm not the only mom to ever compare her children, but I found that having two kids so close together made it especially hard.  During his first year, Gavin ate food sooner (which at the time I thought was from me loosening up as a mom, but now that I see what a foodie Gavin is, it doesn't surprise me at all), he laughed sooner and much more often (still no shocker), and although he became mobile later, once he started, he didn't care so much about walking as he did climbing!   Brennon was so neat and clean, and Gavin was just all over the place.  He didn't care if the spaghetti ended up just as much in his hair or the wall as it did in his mouth.  Brennon was quiet, and Gavin was loud.  He didn't really care as much about television, which is still the case, and he LOVED music.  Gavin loves to sing, be sung to, and dance, dance, dance!  I remember a time when he was probably only about a year and half that the Sunday school teacher said to me that she was shocked about what rhythm Gavin had. 

As Gavin continued to grow, I would see the best (expressive, loving) and worst of me (temper....uh, yes) demonstrated in him.  I love that he looks like me, but I think that's just because my handsome Brennon looks like Ryan's mini-me.  My mom showed my brother, Kyle, a picture of me when I was about 5 months old, and Kyle asked why we put Gavin in a dress.  I love it!  He is my mini-me, only with less hair bows!



At age 2, he started sticking out his tongue and making funny faces in pictures....

Gavin is now three years old, and I see personality, personality, personality!  He loves his family, his friends, and animals.  He goes from talking about how much he loves them and being charming in general to teasing in no time flat.  He will tell Brennon that he loves him and that he is his best friend and then bring sibling rivalry to new levels within a span of two minutes.  He loves to tease, especially because he is able to get to Brennon.  I was shocked when Gavin was only two and a half and he was taunting his older brother saying that he bought him "girly princess stuff" for Christmas.  He loves to make silly faces when you take his picture, have his "neck meat" tickled, and use his wild imagination.  He is still my cuddle bug, only now it happens when the mood strikes, and he is uber-competitive (I do not know where he gets that, ahem!)  He loves to feel like he's done something, and I love when he says, "I can do it by by my myself!"  Although I sometimes do worry about his pronunciation, I have to admit that I will absolutely miss the way that he says somethings when he grows out of it.  I mean, will I even know who he's talking about when he calls him "Brennon" instead of "Bwennon"?  He tries my patience almost daily, but he also has me (and many of my friends) wrapped around his finger.  I am so happy that is a part of my life, and that God gave us someone to make us laugh through every situation.  And on a side note, I apologize future teachers, because I know what it is like to have a class clown on your hands, but please know, I kid you not when I say that he will keep a smile on your face and laughter in your heart each and every day!  I love you, my Gavy, you are my sweet, silly boy, and Mommy loves all that you are...I always will!

I Don't Know How She Doesn't Do It

I'm never going to be that woman.  The woman who everyone looks at and says "I don't know how she does it!"  I don't think this ever really bothered me before, but now that I'm pregnant with our third child, I've been kind of boxing myself daily about why I'm not getting everything done each day.  Maybe it's that little bit of freaking out about if I can't get everything done now, how in the world will I get it done with THREE???  I mean, why am I not finished with a completed to-do list including dinner, papers graded, baths, bedtime, shopping, bills paid, lunches planned, laundry folded, dishes done, doctor's appointments, toys away, and cookies baking in the oven, and blog updated?  (Which is incidentally, why this blog hasn't been updated near as much as I'd like!  I mean, I think about it all the time.  I'll think of something and think, I'm going to blog about that, and well, it just doesn't always happen.)

Besides having the recent revelation that NOBODY does it all, I also realized that I don't want to.  If I am able to do all that I need to do each day completely on my own, what part shall God's grace play in my life?  Due to the fact that I know I cannot in any way get everything done that I would like to get done in my many roles, I know that I have to begin every day by asking God to please help me have strength, wisdom, discernment, and peace. 

Acknowledging my need for God's help doesn't mean I am a flawless mother, wife, or teacher.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  It means that I know my flaws, I know what I'm going to struggle with, including mommy guilt.  That alone, could crush me daily.  The reason it doesn't crush me is because I am aware that most moms deal with mommy guilt.  It can surface in any number of ways.  Maybe today I feel guilty for not getting as much done around the house.  Maybe tomorrow I'll feel guilty for doing too much around the house and not spending enough "quality time" with kids.  A week from now, I could feel guilty about being too harsh with my sons when I know they're only 2 and 4.  Next Wednesday, I can beat myself up for being too tired to make dinner and feeding my kids junkie fast food for dinner.  And a month from now, maybe I'll even feel guilty for making a hair appointment in the evening when I'm already away from my kids all day while I teach.  But the fact of the matter is, mommy guilt is a chameleon.  It can take on whatever form it needs to get its point across.  It is almost certainly the most efficient way that women attack themselves in their daily lives. 

You can think to yourself, "Why can't I get it all done like Sally?"  or "Why can't we have a normal day of errands without meltdowns like Mary and her kids?"  Well, Sally and Mary may look like they've got it all together, but I promise something's not done or at least not done in the right way.  Maybe Sally's a hoarder and Mary's taking little Billy's ADD meds.  Okay, so maybe it's nothing that drastic, but I like to make it really crazy in my head so I seem a little less crazy myself.  Well, that, and I have a really huge need for humor in my life.  So, I ask God to help me remember that he called me to live my life, and nobody else's.  How could I have guilt over not getting everything done when only Sally's called to that anyway?  And so, if my blogs appear few and far between and only the front of my shirt is ironed, I'll still hold my head high and know that I'm getting done with everything God helped me do that day.  After all, I'd rather cross off half my to-do list with his help than the whole thing on my own.  It will help me down the line to teach my children to rely on God's grace.  It will help me keep my sense of humor as a mom, and most of all, it will help me remember that NOBODY really does it all!

10 Years Later....

Tonight is the ten year anniversary of the night that Ryan proposed to me.  Our story doesn't begin there of course, and maybe I'll cover the beginning another time, but for now, I would like to reminisce about the moment I became Mrs. Wall-to-be.  Ryan and I had been dating for about a year and a half (minus a few months where "we were on a break"--no copy girl involved for you Friends fans).  I had a feeling that it was coming for a while.  I knew that it wouldn't happen at Christmas, because we spent it with family, both his and mine, and proposing around a lot of people we know just isn't Ryan's style.  So, New Year's seemed like the perfect time.  New beginnings, romantic dinner, perfect...right?  Well, so I thought. 

Aren't we fancy?  We look so young!!!

We went to dinner at Top of the Rock in Branson (Remember it?  It was great!)  We were all dressed up and feeling like we were such mature adults, as we were at 21 and 22.  (HA!)  The restaurant already had an intimate feel, but Ryan also had us seated at a table with an excellent view of the lake.  Gorgeous view, semi-private location, seemed like a good spot to me.  I don't remember what we ate, but I do remember we had creme brulee for dessert.  Not surprising that I remember dessert, I know.  Dessert would have been a nice time to propose, no?  No.    I remember we even walked out onto the balcony after we ate even though it was ridiculously freezing!  Perfect opportunity, so I thought.  Nope.  I was starting to get mildly annoyed, but didn't want my future husband to see that, because frankly until I got the ring on my finger, I was a little bit afraid of letting him see my crazy side.  Not that he hadn't seen hints, but really what girl wants to go all crazypants pre-engagement.  So, I kept my cool, because that feeling in my gut told me to just be patient, it was coming.  We walked back inside the restaurant before the frostbite kicked in and enjoyed the view a few more moments so that he could pull at that ring and pop the question.  Or not.  So we finished up got in the car and drove back to Springfield to Ryan's apartment. 

"Mind if we just hang out at home and watch the ball drop?", he says.  "No, of course not" (you big jerkface), I reply,  I know he hadn't done anything wrong, I was just so sure of the fact that it was the night.  So sure that when my cousin Kristi offered to pay me double to babysit on New Year's Eve, I had told her no, because I knew that it would have been worth it.  I thought it would have anyway.  We get back to Ryan's apartment, and I'm thinking "Hey, forget this, I'm not staying all fancy to sit on the couch for the next three hours and watch some old geezer count down to the new year."  So, I followed Ryan's lead and changed into sweats and threw my hair up in a ponytail (just to be clear, he didn't have a ponytail, if he had, I wouldn't have been hoping for a proposal from him).  It was a fine evening once we got there and got comfy, just not anything fabulous.  We sat and cuddled on the same couches that sit on our living room now (four moves later).  We drank hot chocolate, and we watched Dick Clark.  Let's see it was 2001, so who was on?  Probably Jessica Simpson or Pink or some other artist that was not too memorable, but then again, I may have been thinking about something else. 

About 10 minutes to midnight, Ryan says that he has to go to the bathroom really bad.  Wow, can this night get any more romantic?  He's back in the bathroom forever, and pretty soon I'm thinking that he better at least hurry up enough to get out here and kiss me as we ring in 2002.  So, I tell him to hurry up, they're already counting.  Could I get more annoyed at this point?  Well, I hear the door open and there are only 3 seconds left as he walks down the hallway and comes around the corner in his white Saturday Night Fever tuxedo holding a dozen roses and drops to his knee as the clock strikes midnight, and I hear the best words I had ever heard in my life, "Marry me, please, be my wife."  YES!!!!  The fireworks blasting across the television had nothing on the ones that were going off in my heart.  He asked me!  I knew he would!  It couldn't have been more like him in any other way.  It was just for us, it was special, and it is our story forever.  I could never have foreseen the ups and downs that would follow, but the answer I gave him was the most certain answer I've ever given, and I would say yes again a million times over.  I am a very lucky girl!

Merry Christmas, Darlings

For all those friends and family who don't make the "cut" to have me spend money on stamps, I thought I wanted to post our Christmas letter for this year so that you can also read my end-of-the-year wrap-up. 

Christmas 2011

Dear Family & Friends,

          Merry Christmas!  We hope this letter finds you happy, peaceful, and ready for Christmas!  It seems like each year we think we’ll be done with everything by this time, but it just doesn’t quite happen that way.  That doesn’t mean we aren’t enjoying every minute of this season, just that we have learned to savor the season, even with a handful of craziness mixed in. 

          This year has flown by!  Brennon is 4½ & Gavin is 2½, and they are on the go all the time!  In the fall, Brennon started going to pre-k three days a week at Grace Academy Preschool.  He has made some great friends there, and we are so proud of his hard work.  He also played soccer for the first time, which may have been even more fun for us to watch than it was for him to play!  Brennon loves Batman, Legos, doing art projects, and playing Wii.  Gavin loves Disney Cars, singing and dancing, and playing outside.  Gavin also likes to spend most of this time going from Brennon’s best friend to worst enemy and back again about one thousand times a day.  I guess that’s brothers being brothers. 

         

         Ryan and I have been very blessed to be able to be the ones raising our kids full-time this year.  I’m still teaching second grade here in Coffeyville, but what I mean by that is that our sons very rarely have to go to a sitter.  We have been able to coordinate our schedules so that Brennon and Gavin are home with us most days, except when Brennon is at school.  Ryan is Super-Dad, and he stays home with the boys during the day, and then he is able to work in the evenings so that I can be home with them.  This has been quite a transition for us, but we are so thankful that we are not only saving money, but raising our children ourselves.  We get to enjoy all the little joys and make use of all the teachable moments that crop up day to day. 

As I said earlier, we are enjoying our life, albeit a little crazy.  After all, the craziness doesn’t matter.  It’s all about living in the moment.  I’m not trying to be profound, and I’m certainly not saying anything new.  In fact, we see the same thing in the Bible when Jesus visits Mary and Martha.  Mary sits with Jesus and takes in the moment, while Martha is the Type A hostess who is making sure that the ornaments are spaced correctly on the tree or that the wreath is hanging straight on the door.  I’m comfortable saying this, because I am a Martha.  I work on it constantly, but it’s true, I have to remind myself to be more like Mary.  She wasn’t stressed.  I think that if she was here today, she would be having a very merry Christmas, and as the song says, she would ‘let her heart be light’.  She didn’t miss the blessing that came from stopping everything to sit and take in the presence of her Savior.  Isn’t that truly what this season is all about, after all?  May you get all you wish for in this season of miracles.  We pray peace and blessings for all of you in the New Year.  Merry Christmas!

Christmas Traditions

Merry Christmas!

When I was growing up, we had a lot of special Christmas traditions in our home, and even now that I haven't lived at home in well over a decade, I still think of them this time of year. I love that these traditions were so important and unique to our life and they weren't about anything other than our family being together, enjoying the season, and making memories.

Here's my dad and I before we moved from Pennsylvania (and before he lost all his hair...notice when I was the only child, he had plenty of hair.  I blame it all on my siblings!)

 I was so excited to get my first kitchen! 

My cousins Karri and Krista only made it more fun to play with!

This is my first Christmas as a big sister.  Check out that awesome boombox!

One of those traditions was that my brother, Kyle, sister, Shannon, and I used to cut out snowflakes to decorate the large picture window in the living room of our parents' home. We would try to create the most intricate snowflake and were so happy to have them hanging up, they may not have been fancy, but we made them and when it really did snow, it looked magical as the light hit our magnified slowflakes.

Yes, my eyes are closed, but other than that it's a picture of Christmas morning....and you can see our snowflakes hanging in the background!

I always loved decorating our tree. My parents made us feel as if the decorating we did was just as important as the decorating they did. I love that it was always a family affair, although it usually ended up being my mom and us kids, because after becoming thoroughly disgusted with trying to find that one lightbulb that was causing the whole strand of lights problems, he would mumble about the ridiculousness of the situation and then retire to the family room to watch.....wait for it.....football. (Shocker!) I still have my favorite ornaments on my parents tree. My parents gave many of the ornaments from their tree to myself and my siblings to hang on our own trees now, but there are a few that are still on the tree at my mom & dad's house that I just love. I don't know what it is about them, but they make me smile. There's one that is a pink and white crocheted mailbox that is so cute--I just love it! Then there's the one made by my grandmother, Esther, who I will not have the chance to meet until I meet her in heaven. I love the intricacy of the beads and knowing that her hands made it. I can tell it was made with love, just as I can see from the lives of her four children that she poured love into all she did in her too-brief life her on earth. I love that the traditions of the tree have carried into my own home, as the Christmas music plays and I allow my boys to hang the ornaments wherever they choose. You want to put a candy cane on that branch that already has six ornaments? Sure, go ahead! Great job, sweetie! And somehow magically, those ornaments are spaced out the next morning.....must be those mischevious elves!

I loved Christmas Eve. We would have an amazing meal, and then do the most important thing of the season. We would sit in front of the fire and read the Christmas story. We would say a prayer afterwards, and then we would each open one gift. A little precursor of the joy to come in the morning. Then Kyle and Shannon would always have a sleepover in my room and we would watch Home Alone and drink hot chocolate. I think of them every time I see the movie now, and I cannot let a Christmas season goes by without watching it. I remember waking up early, so, so early in the morning and begging our parents to get out of bed because SANTA CAME!!!! Even when I was in high school, I still remember feeling so excited to wake up on Christmas morning. I think I might have been too cool to act like it, so I probably pretended to have an attitude and be annoyed by my siblings waking up early, but inside I was doing cartwheels and singing "Joy To The World" at the top of my lungs. We would always open presents and then have a good breakfast together. It was magical.



My dad used to dress up as Santa for the younger cousins.  Have you been naughty or nice?

The best thing about these traditions are that they are all focused on our single family unit. Although I love seeing my aunts, uncles, and cousins, these traditions were centered around our family. They may seem silly or trivial to an outsider, but as someone who lived it, these are memories that I wouldn't trade for the world. As much joy as I feel in my heart as I recount these traditions, it makes me so excited for Christmas with my own family. We have started traditions ourselves already, but I wonder what kind of traditions we will have in the years to come. I can only imagine how the two most special little boys I know will choose to make the most important day of the year even more special to me. Whatever it is, I know there will be smiles, laughter, love, and plenty of hot chocolate for us all.