My dear sweet babies,
I am sitting here thinking about you and imagining your futures. My heart feels like it could explode right out of my chest. You have no idea how much I love you. More times in a day than I can count, I'll look at you and really see you and love punches me right in the gut. There's this knot that forms in my stomach that slowly travels up to my heart, into my throat, and ends up in my eyes where the tears spill over. It sounds awful, doesn't it? But, it's actually pretty amazing. To be able to love someone so much that sometimes it hurts.
As your mother, the very last thing I want is for you ever to feel pain. I want to protect you from everything and keep you safe and innocent and happy. Unfortunately, that's not how life works. It's full of millions of happy moments, and life is easy in the happy moments. It's easy to love those around you, to be kind and compassionate, to sail right through your days without stopping to think about the blessings you have. Because when it's easy, you feel fine. You feel whole. You feel complete.
And then something is going to happen that punches you in the gut in a completely different way. You are going to get hurt. It will start in your gut and travel up to your heart hardening it, shooting up through your throat and into your eyes and it's going to not only cause you tears, but it will change the way you see the world.
You will get hurt by all kinds of different things. By people. By your own choices. By situations that life throws at you that you never saw coming. You will hurt physically and emotionally. The physical pain will be a little easier to forget. The emotional pain will stick with you, though. When life throws an emotional punch at your gut, you will never be the same.
You have a few choices when things get hard. You can, ideally, sit down, embrace the pain, and climb out the other side. Or you can quit, which always seems a whole lot easier. You can run away. You can find a way to ease the pain and make you temporarily forget about it. Some people turn to food, some to alcohol and/or drugs, some to spending money that they don't have, some put on an invisible armor that no one can get through. It is not fun to hurt. You will probably try all or some or maybe more of these things as a way of shielding yourself from that pain.
I want you to hear me right now, though, my precious babies. Shielding yourself with these things is only going to end up causing you more pain. They will cause you to turn into yourself and away from those who love you. You will feel completely alone. Some of them will destroy your health. They will all cause you unending amounts of stress. Please hear me, my babies. Do not choose a band-aid for your pain. That's much easier said than done. You have to learn on your own, so I'm guessing that at some point, one of these band-aids will seem like the easier choice.
Eventually, though, you will have to face the pain. The longer you wait, the harder it will be. The more of yourself you will lose along the way. The harder it will be to get back to your beautiful, loving, open, amazing self. I want you to always know that when you are ready to rip that band-aid off, Daddy and I will be here waiting with arms wide open. We will gather you in and do our very best to hold you together when the pain hits and makes you think you might shatter into a thousand pieces. We will do our best not to let that happen. If it does, we will help you glue it all back together.
We will help you battle through the pain and you will come out wiser, more solid, and with more love in your heart for all that life holds. Because it takes feeling the pain to truly understand love. To truly appreciate all of the beautiful things that your life holds.
The most important thing I want you to remember is that when life gets hard, God is not abandoning you. He is crying with you and carrying you. It's going to be hard to remember that. Your faith will be shaken. You will feel like God has forgotten about you. You will feel like He cannot possibly love you if He would allow you to feel such pain. He knows exactly how you feel. Don't ever forget that He walked through this life, as well, and His earthly life ended when He was broken and bloody and battered and hanging from a cross.
As much as Dad and I will be here for you, God is the real healer. He is true love. He is the one you need to hit your knees, bow your head, and pray to so that you can finally find yourself.
Mom and Dad have been on their knees since the day you were born praying for everything that is happening now and will happen in the future. God has been holding you since before you were born. He loves you in a way no one here on Earth can love you. You are surrounded always. Remember to let that love and light in.
You are not alone, babies. You are never alone. Remember that. Use that. Find strength and truth and love in that. There is always someone out there loving you with all that they have. Find peace in that. Find courage in that. Find everything in that.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Friday, May 15, 2015
Here's Some Truth About Shit Covering Your Face.
In the wise words of Elsa, "Let it go, let it go, can't hold me back anymore." I hate that song. My kids have listened to it so many times that the whole scene is forever ingrained in my mind. Take a step back, though, and just read the words. For all that's sane and holy, DO NOT SING THEM. Read them in your best non-Elsa voice and let it sink in for a minute.
You guys, life throws shit. All the time. It might have hit you right in the face. There's a good chance it landed in your eyes, blinding you to anything but the shit. It may have stuck in your nose and mouth flavoring the air you breathe and the food you taste. It's a nasty, bitter, ugly thing. It might take some time to sort through. I am not taking that away from you. It might take you a year, it might take you 2 years, it might take you 10 years. At some point, though, you have to tell that shit to get the heck off of your face. Tell it that there is no way it's taking any more of your time and your precious happiness.
At some point, having the shit covering your face goes from completely out of your control to a choice you make every day...to be a victim...to be miserable...to wallow in something you don't have to wallow in anymore. This may sound harsh, but it's really up to you. Are you going to let the shit blind you, suffocate you, gag you again today? Or. Are you ready to take a rag, wash it off, and throw it in the trash for good?
I'm a firm believer that life is a choice. Happiness is a choice. Love is a choice. Laughter is a choice. If you wake up every day expecting the worst, waiting for your kids to suck up all of your time and patience, expecting your spouse to fail you yet again, waiting for someone at work to frustrate you beyond human capacity, ignoring all of the funny little blessings happening around you, you are setting yourself up for a really bad day...bad week...bad life.
I've been through some shit. I've seen some people who have to use every ounce of strength in their body to get through the lake of shit they are submerged in. An ocean of shit I can't even begin to understand. But they do it. These are my heroes in life. I've seen them come out, heads held high, full of love, ready to take on life again. If I can do it. If they can do it. So can you.
So, please, if you are stuck in place where you can't see, can't breathe, can't taste the beauty in life, LET. IT. GO. So much easier said than done. No one has a magic cure. A magic answer. A step by step program to follow. It all comes down to you. Just remember you aren't alone. If you are ready to let the shit go and feel like no one will understand, don't hesitant to send me a FB message, an email, or call me. My shit can't be that much worse than yours. Let's stink together for a minute and find a way to throw it out and make things smell pretty again. I might not have the all the answers (or any), but if you are ready to change, I will be here every step of the way as you shake all of that shit off and start a happier life.
You guys, life throws shit. All the time. It might have hit you right in the face. There's a good chance it landed in your eyes, blinding you to anything but the shit. It may have stuck in your nose and mouth flavoring the air you breathe and the food you taste. It's a nasty, bitter, ugly thing. It might take some time to sort through. I am not taking that away from you. It might take you a year, it might take you 2 years, it might take you 10 years. At some point, though, you have to tell that shit to get the heck off of your face. Tell it that there is no way it's taking any more of your time and your precious happiness.
At some point, having the shit covering your face goes from completely out of your control to a choice you make every day...to be a victim...to be miserable...to wallow in something you don't have to wallow in anymore. This may sound harsh, but it's really up to you. Are you going to let the shit blind you, suffocate you, gag you again today? Or. Are you ready to take a rag, wash it off, and throw it in the trash for good?
I'm a firm believer that life is a choice. Happiness is a choice. Love is a choice. Laughter is a choice. If you wake up every day expecting the worst, waiting for your kids to suck up all of your time and patience, expecting your spouse to fail you yet again, waiting for someone at work to frustrate you beyond human capacity, ignoring all of the funny little blessings happening around you, you are setting yourself up for a really bad day...bad week...bad life.
I've been through some shit. I've seen some people who have to use every ounce of strength in their body to get through the lake of shit they are submerged in. An ocean of shit I can't even begin to understand. But they do it. These are my heroes in life. I've seen them come out, heads held high, full of love, ready to take on life again. If I can do it. If they can do it. So can you.
So, please, if you are stuck in place where you can't see, can't breathe, can't taste the beauty in life, LET. IT. GO. So much easier said than done. No one has a magic cure. A magic answer. A step by step program to follow. It all comes down to you. Just remember you aren't alone. If you are ready to let the shit go and feel like no one will understand, don't hesitant to send me a FB message, an email, or call me. My shit can't be that much worse than yours. Let's stink together for a minute and find a way to throw it out and make things smell pretty again. I might not have the all the answers (or any), but if you are ready to change, I will be here every step of the way as you shake all of that shit off and start a happier life.
Friday, April 3, 2015
Let's Just Hold Hands and Take a Walk
Good Friday. What a horribly, wonderful day. I spend every Good Friday thinking about Jesus and my walk with him. Am I doing it right? Am I on the right path? Am I loving enough? Forgiving enough? Working hard enough not to break His commandments? I wonder about every little decision I make. Is this what God wants or am I doing what I want? It's harder to think about today when I'm imagining Him hanging on a cross after being beaten and knocked down and tortured. All for me. He did this all for me. And you. For all of us. Out of love. Can you imagine a love like that?
I've been spending a lot of time praying today. I've thanked God for His sacrifice. I've prayed that my life is following His plan. I was in the middle of taking a break from all of that thinking and praying to check my email when a little hand tapped me on the arm.
I looked down and saw a grinning Logan reaching his hand toward mine. I took his hand, stood up, and let him lead me to whatever it was that he wanted me to see. Usually, he takes me straight to the playroom and demands that I build something, play with something, watch him play with something, read a book, the list goes on.
This time, we walked right past the playroom. I followed his slow, careful steps into my bedroom. He looked at me for reassurance, I smiled, and we continued into the bathroom. He led me right in front of the full length mirror, sat down, pulled me down, and looked at me in the mirror. He pointed at both of us, smiled his irresistible dimple-filled smile, stood up, and we continued out of the bathroom. We hadn't spoken a single word to each other through this process.
He took me to the living room, pointed to the couch and then to me. I sat down and he crawled right up in my lap and snuggled into me. He let out a sigh, and looked up at me with one more smile.
I'm still not sure there was a point to the whole thing. He just wanted me to smile and follow him and offer my presence and love.
That's when it hit me. Maybe that IS the point. The whole point to all of this. Maybe if I calm down and just take God's hand, that's really all that He wants. Maybe I'm spending way too much time demanding things of myself, wondering about the how, the why, the what next of things, instead of just grabbing His hand walking through life holding on tight to that love and reassurance.
So, for today, I'm going to stop worrying and wondering. I'm going to grab the hand of Jesus and walk through my day smiling with eyes full of love.
I've been spending a lot of time praying today. I've thanked God for His sacrifice. I've prayed that my life is following His plan. I was in the middle of taking a break from all of that thinking and praying to check my email when a little hand tapped me on the arm.
I looked down and saw a grinning Logan reaching his hand toward mine. I took his hand, stood up, and let him lead me to whatever it was that he wanted me to see. Usually, he takes me straight to the playroom and demands that I build something, play with something, watch him play with something, read a book, the list goes on.
This time, we walked right past the playroom. I followed his slow, careful steps into my bedroom. He looked at me for reassurance, I smiled, and we continued into the bathroom. He led me right in front of the full length mirror, sat down, pulled me down, and looked at me in the mirror. He pointed at both of us, smiled his irresistible dimple-filled smile, stood up, and we continued out of the bathroom. We hadn't spoken a single word to each other through this process.
He took me to the living room, pointed to the couch and then to me. I sat down and he crawled right up in my lap and snuggled into me. He let out a sigh, and looked up at me with one more smile.
I'm still not sure there was a point to the whole thing. He just wanted me to smile and follow him and offer my presence and love.
That's when it hit me. Maybe that IS the point. The whole point to all of this. Maybe if I calm down and just take God's hand, that's really all that He wants. Maybe I'm spending way too much time demanding things of myself, wondering about the how, the why, the what next of things, instead of just grabbing His hand walking through life holding on tight to that love and reassurance.
So, for today, I'm going to stop worrying and wondering. I'm going to grab the hand of Jesus and walk through my day smiling with eyes full of love.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
On Grace
We were having one of those mornings. One of those nothing at all is going right or happening easily mornings. And you know who started it? Me. I let the morning get the best of me from the moment I grumpily stepped out of bed.
I woke up with a frown on my face. I stubbed my toe as I stumbled through the dark house on the way to get that first cup of life-giving coffee.
I snapped at my husband for trying to help me when I didn't want help.
I rolled my eyes and felt the tension build when both girls walked into my room at 5:45 in the morning. I told them they had to go sit down and keep themselves entertained for the next 45 minutes because they were interrupting my quiet morning routine. I didn't have the patience to deal with their never-ending needs that early this morning.
I broke up a fight about a doll that one daughter claimed as her own when it really belongs to the other by taking the doll and throwing it on top of the fridge so no one could have it. I told the same daughter (who is only 4...still a baby really) to GET. OUT. when she continued to cry about the damn doll. That's a lie, guys. I didn't "tell" her. I yelled in my best mad mom voice.
Because I WAS mad and I felt mean and ugly inside and horrible and I didn't get a grip on it. I let it take over this morning. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by kids. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by a house that needs cleaned...desperately. I woke up feeling selfish and unwilling to take care of anyone's feelings except my own.
When it was time to get coats and backpacks on, I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to drop the girls off at school, put Logan in front of the TV, and sit in the quiet and let myself wallow in my bad place. I was getting ready to less than calmly tell Camden for the fourth time in 3 minutes to get her coat on when it happened.
Hannah came up and hugged my waist and with the complete honesty and love that only a child can give said, "You're the best Mom EVER." Camden, as she danced around still not doing a single thing I asked of her, but being completely and unapologetically and perfectly Camden, piped up, "You are Mom! Even when you're mad!" Logan, who had just been screaming about not wanting his coat on, started laughing and jumping up and down yelling "Yeah! Yeah! Mommy!"
My heart cracked and shifted. The ugly was gone and I hit my knees and hugged them all tight and let their grace wash over us all. Even when I was at my worst, they found a way to only see my best. They gave me grace when I needed it most, without really even knowing they were doing it.
I came home from dropping the girls off and sat down for a minute to think about the morning. I released a lot of stress with a good cry and realized what I forgot to do this morning. I forgot to take a minute to breathe and pray and be calm and to love these kids, this house, this life, myself just as they all were at that moment. Because even when it's dirty, the house is wonderful. Because even when they are fighting and crying and screaming, these children are more precious than anything in this world. Because even at my worst, I am a good person with a great life.
Offer grace, you guys. You never know when you may be giving it to someone who needs it the most.
I woke up with a frown on my face. I stubbed my toe as I stumbled through the dark house on the way to get that first cup of life-giving coffee.
I snapped at my husband for trying to help me when I didn't want help.
I rolled my eyes and felt the tension build when both girls walked into my room at 5:45 in the morning. I told them they had to go sit down and keep themselves entertained for the next 45 minutes because they were interrupting my quiet morning routine. I didn't have the patience to deal with their never-ending needs that early this morning.
I broke up a fight about a doll that one daughter claimed as her own when it really belongs to the other by taking the doll and throwing it on top of the fridge so no one could have it. I told the same daughter (who is only 4...still a baby really) to GET. OUT. when she continued to cry about the damn doll. That's a lie, guys. I didn't "tell" her. I yelled in my best mad mom voice.
Because I WAS mad and I felt mean and ugly inside and horrible and I didn't get a grip on it. I let it take over this morning. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by kids. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by a house that needs cleaned...desperately. I woke up feeling selfish and unwilling to take care of anyone's feelings except my own.
When it was time to get coats and backpacks on, I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to drop the girls off at school, put Logan in front of the TV, and sit in the quiet and let myself wallow in my bad place. I was getting ready to less than calmly tell Camden for the fourth time in 3 minutes to get her coat on when it happened.
Hannah came up and hugged my waist and with the complete honesty and love that only a child can give said, "You're the best Mom EVER." Camden, as she danced around still not doing a single thing I asked of her, but being completely and unapologetically and perfectly Camden, piped up, "You are Mom! Even when you're mad!" Logan, who had just been screaming about not wanting his coat on, started laughing and jumping up and down yelling "Yeah! Yeah! Mommy!"
My heart cracked and shifted. The ugly was gone and I hit my knees and hugged them all tight and let their grace wash over us all. Even when I was at my worst, they found a way to only see my best. They gave me grace when I needed it most, without really even knowing they were doing it.
I came home from dropping the girls off and sat down for a minute to think about the morning. I released a lot of stress with a good cry and realized what I forgot to do this morning. I forgot to take a minute to breathe and pray and be calm and to love these kids, this house, this life, myself just as they all were at that moment. Because even when it's dirty, the house is wonderful. Because even when they are fighting and crying and screaming, these children are more precious than anything in this world. Because even at my worst, I am a good person with a great life.
Offer grace, you guys. You never know when you may be giving it to someone who needs it the most.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
On That Creepy Little Elf on the Shelf
It's that time of year again. Time to get out that weird little elf that creepily watches over everything my kids do in a day so that she can head back to the North Pole and report everything to Santa while he makes his naughty and nice list. She stares at them from various places in the house...from the mantle, from above their beds, from the light fixture in the living room that gives her a good view of everything going on in the house. I tell my kids that she also knows every single thing they are doing when they are away from home at school because she's MAGIC. It doesn't matter if she's there physically or not. She's our elf and knows all that we do. Magic, guys, it gets your kids in line and terrifies them into behaving. We make sure our kids are equal parts in love with the elf and also petrified of what she's going to tell Santa about them. Because that's what Christmas is about...scaring your kids straight so they gets lots of presents.
Just kidding, you guys. I am blown away by how this silly little elf has become such a polarizing topic in our world. I've seen so many opinions on this that I just have to shake my head and turn off my computer. And then turn it back on and give my two cents.
Let's get a few things straight.
Number 1. My children know what Christmas is all about. It's not about being greedy little stinkers and only behaving for one month out of the year to get lots and lots of toys. It's about the birth of the man that came to this world to save all of our souls. It's about a man who loves us more than anything, even if we completely ignore Him. CHRISTmas, guys. The birth of Jesus. The totally encompassing, unfathomable, unending love that is Christ the King. That's just how we roll in this house.
Number 2. We also believe in Santa. Why not give your kids a little taste of magic? What's wrong with letting them know that Santa comes and gives us gifts in celebration of Jesus? I've heard over the years that there are people out there who are super bitter about being "lied" to about Santa all of those years. I feel that like stems from a deeper place that I don't want to get into. When I was a kid, Santa was a happy, joyful, magical thing to think about once a year. When I found out he wasn't "real", I didn't cry into my pillow for weeks and disown my parents. I loved Santa as a kid, and even now knowing he isn't a physical person I can touch, I still love him. I still believe in Santa, ya'll. Not as a fat, jolly man with an impressive white beard, but as a feeling, a peace and joy that you don't get any other time of year. An abundance of love and giving. I plan on telling my kids that the magic of Santa is what you make it. Even if you are the one wrapping the gifts and sticking them in stockings, the look on the faces of those precious little ones Christmas morning....THAT IS SANTA!!!! What's so wrong with that?
Number 3. Our kids LOVE our elf. If I would have tried this little experiment and been met with terrified cries and horrible dreams of a creepy elf watching them at all times, that elf would have been out of here.
But.
Our kids LOVE Mrs. Jingles! She moves to a silly new place every day and brings them fun little treats during the few weeks a year that she is in our house.
For me, it's just one more tradition that my kids will cherish far into adulthood. A little piece of the home, the love, the care that I am giving them right now.
Do I wish the elf was a little less psycho looking? Sure! Who wouldn't? Do I think it's a terrible, evil trick to pull on your kids? Absolutely not! Do I think all of you should adopt this tradition? NOPE! It's a family by family thing.
I find it sad that I even felt the need to write this and "defend" my position. There are so many things in this world that people get uptight about that make absolutely no sense to me. Not everything is for everyone. Why can't we just let those who want to invite that weird little elf into their house every year be? Why can't we nod our heads and say, "Yup, I get why you aren't doing the elf in your house" to those who aren't doing it?
I'll say this once....IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL!!!! Get the heck over it.
For us, in our house, Mrs. Jingles, our creepy little elf, is a win. She brings donuts and a new ornament every year. She hangs upside down from lights. She makes my kids jump out of bed in the morning. She makes those sweet little babies giggle when they find her. They tell her goodnight at bedtime. Please tell me, those who disagree with the idea of the elf, where is the harm in that? If you give me a good enough argument, it will be adios Mrs. Jingles. But for now, our Elf on the Shelf is a HUGE win.
Just kidding, you guys. I am blown away by how this silly little elf has become such a polarizing topic in our world. I've seen so many opinions on this that I just have to shake my head and turn off my computer. And then turn it back on and give my two cents.
Let's get a few things straight.
Number 1. My children know what Christmas is all about. It's not about being greedy little stinkers and only behaving for one month out of the year to get lots and lots of toys. It's about the birth of the man that came to this world to save all of our souls. It's about a man who loves us more than anything, even if we completely ignore Him. CHRISTmas, guys. The birth of Jesus. The totally encompassing, unfathomable, unending love that is Christ the King. That's just how we roll in this house.
Number 2. We also believe in Santa. Why not give your kids a little taste of magic? What's wrong with letting them know that Santa comes and gives us gifts in celebration of Jesus? I've heard over the years that there are people out there who are super bitter about being "lied" to about Santa all of those years. I feel that like stems from a deeper place that I don't want to get into. When I was a kid, Santa was a happy, joyful, magical thing to think about once a year. When I found out he wasn't "real", I didn't cry into my pillow for weeks and disown my parents. I loved Santa as a kid, and even now knowing he isn't a physical person I can touch, I still love him. I still believe in Santa, ya'll. Not as a fat, jolly man with an impressive white beard, but as a feeling, a peace and joy that you don't get any other time of year. An abundance of love and giving. I plan on telling my kids that the magic of Santa is what you make it. Even if you are the one wrapping the gifts and sticking them in stockings, the look on the faces of those precious little ones Christmas morning....THAT IS SANTA!!!! What's so wrong with that?
Number 3. Our kids LOVE our elf. If I would have tried this little experiment and been met with terrified cries and horrible dreams of a creepy elf watching them at all times, that elf would have been out of here.
But.
Our kids LOVE Mrs. Jingles! She moves to a silly new place every day and brings them fun little treats during the few weeks a year that she is in our house.
OH, NO!!! She brought donuts, you guys!
For me, it's just one more tradition that my kids will cherish far into adulthood. A little piece of the home, the love, the care that I am giving them right now.
Happy faces, guys, happy adorable faces.
Do I wish the elf was a little less psycho looking? Sure! Who wouldn't? Do I think it's a terrible, evil trick to pull on your kids? Absolutely not! Do I think all of you should adopt this tradition? NOPE! It's a family by family thing.
I find it sad that I even felt the need to write this and "defend" my position. There are so many things in this world that people get uptight about that make absolutely no sense to me. Not everything is for everyone. Why can't we just let those who want to invite that weird little elf into their house every year be? Why can't we nod our heads and say, "Yup, I get why you aren't doing the elf in your house" to those who aren't doing it?
I'll say this once....IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL!!!! Get the heck over it.
For us, in our house, Mrs. Jingles, our creepy little elf, is a win. She brings donuts and a new ornament every year. She hangs upside down from lights. She makes my kids jump out of bed in the morning. She makes those sweet little babies giggle when they find her. They tell her goodnight at bedtime. Please tell me, those who disagree with the idea of the elf, where is the harm in that? If you give me a good enough argument, it will be adios Mrs. Jingles. But for now, our Elf on the Shelf is a HUGE win.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
On The Best Potato Soup EVER!
Baby, it's cold outside! We actually had snow flurries coming down this morning. The temperature almost hit 30 yesterday. BRRRRRRR!!! Obviously, that calls for soup. Lots and lots of delicious soup.
Quick confession. I do not love cooking. I don't hate it, either. It's just one of those things that I have to do so that this family can survive. Guess what, though?! I have recently learned that I LOVE to cook soup. I don't care if it takes an hour to get it done (usually I go for 30 minute or less recipes). I just really enjoy it.
Last week, I found and made the recipe I'm about to share. I googled Panera potato soup because let's be honest, their soup is the bomb. Yes, I said it....THE BOMB! I found one that looked pretty good and pretty easy. Added a little of my own flair to it (very little of my own flair. I'm not one to mess with recipes) and served it up. Everyone LOVED it. Except Hannah. It was a little spicy. Next time, I'll cut back on the red pepper, and I bet she downs it like the rest of us!
So here you go. You can thank me later! (I don't have pictures of this process. My bad).
POTATO SOUP
Ingredients:
4 cups chicken broth
4 cups peeled and cubed potatoes
1/2 cup of half-and-half (I might have used more. I didn't measure, just dumped).
1/4 cup minced onions
1/2 tsp seasoning salt
1/4 tsp white pepper
1/4 tsp ground red pepper (Cut back if you are sensitive to spicy foods like Hannah)
1 - 8 oz package cream cheese cut into chunks
Directions:
1. Combine broth, potatoes, onion and spices
2. Boil on medium heat until potatoes are tender. Mash a few to release their starch to thicken the soup.
3. Add half-and-half and reduce to low heat.
4. Add cream cheese, stir until cheese melts
5. If you want, top it with some yummy stuff like bacon pieces, green onions, shredded cheese. MMMMmmmm....bacon!
We ate this whole pot in one sitting. Next time, I will double it.
Stay tuned for more soup recipes because that's what I'm feeling these days.
Mommy win on making a soup that (almost) the whole family loves!
Quick confession. I do not love cooking. I don't hate it, either. It's just one of those things that I have to do so that this family can survive. Guess what, though?! I have recently learned that I LOVE to cook soup. I don't care if it takes an hour to get it done (usually I go for 30 minute or less recipes). I just really enjoy it.
Last week, I found and made the recipe I'm about to share. I googled Panera potato soup because let's be honest, their soup is the bomb. Yes, I said it....THE BOMB! I found one that looked pretty good and pretty easy. Added a little of my own flair to it (very little of my own flair. I'm not one to mess with recipes) and served it up. Everyone LOVED it. Except Hannah. It was a little spicy. Next time, I'll cut back on the red pepper, and I bet she downs it like the rest of us!
So here you go. You can thank me later! (I don't have pictures of this process. My bad).
POTATO SOUP
Ingredients:
4 cups chicken broth
4 cups peeled and cubed potatoes
1/2 cup of half-and-half (I might have used more. I didn't measure, just dumped).
1/4 cup minced onions
1/2 tsp seasoning salt
1/4 tsp white pepper
1/4 tsp ground red pepper (Cut back if you are sensitive to spicy foods like Hannah)
1 - 8 oz package cream cheese cut into chunks
Directions:
1. Combine broth, potatoes, onion and spices
2. Boil on medium heat until potatoes are tender. Mash a few to release their starch to thicken the soup.
3. Add half-and-half and reduce to low heat.
4. Add cream cheese, stir until cheese melts
5. If you want, top it with some yummy stuff like bacon pieces, green onions, shredded cheese. MMMMmmmm....bacon!
We ate this whole pot in one sitting. Next time, I will double it.
Stay tuned for more soup recipes because that's what I'm feeling these days.
Mommy win on making a soup that (almost) the whole family loves!
Monday, October 13, 2014
On Receiving My First Hate Letter
Last Wednesday went like most days go. School, crying, naps, Target, more crying, eating, playing, homework, more crying, etc. We did have a nice little highlight that hasn't happened in far too long. We had a skype date with our Rachel.
Quick catch up for those of you thinking, "who the heck is Rachel?" Rachel is my first-cousin. She graduated high school, didn't like her immediate option for college, so she moved from Ohio to Texas to live with us for a year and go to Midland Community College until she figured out what she wanted to do and where she wanted to be. It was a great year. She covered our house in hair (seriously, this girl sheds like no other) and ate all of our food. When she left, she took a little piece of all of our hearts with her. She's forever part of our immediate family.
Rachel is back in Ohio now. She found a college that she loves, friends she can't live without, and is working hard to reach her dreams. We are so proud. We miss her like crazy.
We don't talk to her nearly enough. Last week, we decided to fix that and set a Skype date. After school, when things settled down and homework was done, we called. The kids were SO excited. They were jumping up and down and dancing to the ring tone as we were calling through. The minute Rachel picked up, they all got stage fright and got super quiet.
Hannah was the first to decide she wanted to speak up. Right about that time, Logan decided he wanted to yell in Rachel's face and see what she was all about (he was a month old when she moved out, his memory was a little fuzzy). In true drama queen fashion, Hannah got upset that he stole the spotlight, threw herself on the ground and refused to look at anyone.
We left her like that and went on about our business. The other two Lynch kids charmed Rachel's socks off. Logan ran around, said all of his new words, and did all of his tricks. Camden caught her up on preschool life and drew pictures for her on the magna-doodle. When it was just about time to hang up, I saw Hannah at our dining room table making a drawing.
Thinking she was over it, I walked over to see if she was ready for her turn to Skype with Rachel. I got an evil look, looked down and saw a paper covered in x's. I asked what she was drawing and she meanly said, "X's. They are for you."
OOOOOOoooookay. I was clearly on her s*@t list. Without taking her eyes off of me, she wrote "MOM" and angrily drew a line through my name. I burst out laughing. It was hilarious. She was mad and so mean about it, but seeing that adorable little face be so horrible was more than I could take. I saw her eyes narrow and knew I was really going to have a devil on my hands if I didn't think of something fast.
"Hannah! I'm only laughing to keep myself from crying. Does that mean you don't want me to be your mom anymore?"
"Yes. I don't want any of you. I want a new family." By now, she had drawn all of our names with an angry line through them and a huge X over the whole bunch.
Obviously, I lost my mind and started laughing again. It was HILARIOUS!
"I'm going to live with Rachel!"
I told her that I was very sad and sorry that she was so upset that she didn't want to be part of our family anymore. I also told her that it wasn't an option to move away because we love her way too much to let her go. I gave her body, still rigid with anger, a huge hug, whispered that I love her, told her I understand getting so mad you want to leave, but that I hope she changes her mind because of how much she means to us.
Ten minutes later, I got this....
Hopefully, she always gets over her mad so quickly. And hopefully, I can learn to control my laugh impulse when my kids are working through a mad.
Quick catch up for those of you thinking, "who the heck is Rachel?" Rachel is my first-cousin. She graduated high school, didn't like her immediate option for college, so she moved from Ohio to Texas to live with us for a year and go to Midland Community College until she figured out what she wanted to do and where she wanted to be. It was a great year. She covered our house in hair (seriously, this girl sheds like no other) and ate all of our food. When she left, she took a little piece of all of our hearts with her. She's forever part of our immediate family.
Rachel is back in Ohio now. She found a college that she loves, friends she can't live without, and is working hard to reach her dreams. We are so proud. We miss her like crazy.
We don't talk to her nearly enough. Last week, we decided to fix that and set a Skype date. After school, when things settled down and homework was done, we called. The kids were SO excited. They were jumping up and down and dancing to the ring tone as we were calling through. The minute Rachel picked up, they all got stage fright and got super quiet.
Hannah was the first to decide she wanted to speak up. Right about that time, Logan decided he wanted to yell in Rachel's face and see what she was all about (he was a month old when she moved out, his memory was a little fuzzy). In true drama queen fashion, Hannah got upset that he stole the spotlight, threw herself on the ground and refused to look at anyone.
We left her like that and went on about our business. The other two Lynch kids charmed Rachel's socks off. Logan ran around, said all of his new words, and did all of his tricks. Camden caught her up on preschool life and drew pictures for her on the magna-doodle. When it was just about time to hang up, I saw Hannah at our dining room table making a drawing.
Thinking she was over it, I walked over to see if she was ready for her turn to Skype with Rachel. I got an evil look, looked down and saw a paper covered in x's. I asked what she was drawing and she meanly said, "X's. They are for you."
OOOOOOoooookay. I was clearly on her s*@t list. Without taking her eyes off of me, she wrote "MOM" and angrily drew a line through my name. I burst out laughing. It was hilarious. She was mad and so mean about it, but seeing that adorable little face be so horrible was more than I could take. I saw her eyes narrow and knew I was really going to have a devil on my hands if I didn't think of something fast.
"Hannah! I'm only laughing to keep myself from crying. Does that mean you don't want me to be your mom anymore?"
"Yes. I don't want any of you. I want a new family." By now, she had drawn all of our names with an angry line through them and a huge X over the whole bunch.
Obviously, I lost my mind and started laughing again. It was HILARIOUS!
"I'm going to live with Rachel!"
I told her that I was very sad and sorry that she was so upset that she didn't want to be part of our family anymore. I also told her that it wasn't an option to move away because we love her way too much to let her go. I gave her body, still rigid with anger, a huge hug, whispered that I love her, told her I understand getting so mad you want to leave, but that I hope she changes her mind because of how much she means to us.
Ten minutes later, I got this....
Front
Back
Hopefully, she always gets over her mad so quickly. And hopefully, I can learn to control my laugh impulse when my kids are working through a mad.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
On School Mornings...UGH!
School mornings sometimes make me want to just throw my hands up in the air and head to my closet with a huge cake (not piece...the whole darn cake) and a fork. I feel like after the cake was gone, I could walk out, head held high (with crumbs and icing all over my face), and take on the disaster that is sometimes our morning. Don't worry Gramma and Grampa! I'm sure they'll be perfect little angels for you on school mornings in a few weeks when Heath and I are out of town. Don't be scared.
They have been much better this school year so far than last. I can let them sleep for an extra 20 minutes this year because the fight doesn't last nearly as long. Well, until this morning. I'm officially nervous about how the rest of the year might go. Hopefully this morning was a fluke.
They both assured me at bedtime last night that they were ready for school and were going to hop right out of bed in the morning. HA! LIARS!
Camden is normally my morning person. If she isn't up by the time I head in to wake them up, she'll quickly sit up, smile at me and get on with the morning tasks. Hannah, on the other hand, is most decidedly NOT a morning person. I always know it's going to be touch and go with that one. This morning, I had two Hannahs on my hands.
I managed to get them both in an upright position and dressed. Camden had her eyes shut the whole time. Hannah refused to even lift an arm to help me out and kept toppling backwards onto her bed with some "I'm done with this bull crap" sighs and grunts. Me too, Hannah, me too.
Breathe, Mom, breathe! This will all be over in about 40 minutes.
I ushered them both, still blinking like newborns who aren't quite sure what to do with all of the light, to the bathroom. We got their hair fixed and their morning bathroom needs taken care of without too much issue.
Right about now, Logan starts yelling from his crib and kicking the wall with both feet to let me know he's awake. Awesome. Let me just get the girls' breakfast started first, little man, then it's your turn.
Out to the kitchen we go. Hannah (usually) is fully awake by now and makes a quick breakfast decision. Camden, on the other hand, chooses this moment to get indecisive, uncooperative, and to start whining that we don't have what she wants for breakfast. I'm starting to get impatient and more than a little irritated because of the very unhappy noises coming out of the baby boy room, and I just want her to make a decision so I can go get the baby situation taken care of. We all know what you are going to pick, Camden, so just pick it! That's what my head is screaming. My outer mother is very calmly giving her options, even though I could already have what I know she is going to pick ready and on the table. Give her time, Mom, she's still very little (I have to constantly talk myself off of freak out ledges in the morning). Almost every morning Hannah wants a bagel with butter and Camden wants a bagel with cream cheese. Hannah's breakfast is taken care of when Camden finally decides on her (surprise) cream cheese bagel. Done!
As soon as they are at the table eating, it's off to get little man. I catch him mid-scream. The minute he hears the door creak open, he stops, giggles, jumps on his mattress a few times, and raises his arms so I can get him out of the crib. The easy part is over, though, because now it's time to change that diaper and dress him. Changing his morning diaper should be an Olympic event. He laughs through me getting his sleeper off, but the minute that diaper comes off, he goes stiff as a board and starts crying like I have him chained to the wall and am beating him with a 2 by 4 full of rusty old nails. I thought the girls were the dramatic ones! Once the clean diaper is on, he spends his getting dressed time throwing every article of clothing he possibly can onto the floor. He thinks he's hilarious!
Mid-diaper change, it never fails that Camden will come in fussing that she changed her mind and doesn't want her cream cheese bagel afterall. Can she have chex mix? Goldfish? Cookies? Spaghetti for breakfast instead? Yes, Camden you can have all of those things. When you are an adult living on your own and I'm not there to force you to eat something a little more breakfast worthy. NO! Get back to the table and eat your bagel. That was your choice, now you need to eat it or go to school hungry. I'm elbows deep in changing a diaper and I. CANNOT. HELP. YOU. for at least another 5 minutes. Just go eat!!!! Please!!!
By the time teeth are brushed, shoes and coats are on, and we are packed up ready to go, I'm thankful that I'm giving them to someone else for the day. That morning 40 minutes is the longest 40 minutes of my day.
Want to know how I know I'm insane? I start missing those little stink pots the minute I pull out of the school parking lot. I have cried pulling away from the school more times this year than ever before because the minute I get in the car, do a little happy to be free dance, and breathe a sigh of relief, I start missing them with an ache that goes all the way to my toes. Yes, I still get Logan all day, but he misses them, too! He wanders the house looking for them, which makes me miss them even more.
They are growing up way too fast on me. Pretty soon, they won't need me there to drag them out of bed (well, OK, maybe that part will always be my job), but they won't need me to dress them, do their hair, get them breakfast, and try to love them through a morning they aren't quite ready to be awake for yet. They'll want to take the bus to school because having your Mom drop you off and pick you up isn't quite as cool as it should be. Pretty soon, they won't need me in quite the way they need me now. So, I'm going to do my best to enjoy these mornings and to hug them through the "tough" times that every morning brings. They are happy enough by the time we head out the door. I like to think that I'm part of what turns their morning around. My fingers are crossed that they will always need me to help get their mornings on track, but deep down I know that eventually they will be able to do that on their own.
They have been much better this school year so far than last. I can let them sleep for an extra 20 minutes this year because the fight doesn't last nearly as long. Well, until this morning. I'm officially nervous about how the rest of the year might go. Hopefully this morning was a fluke.
They both assured me at bedtime last night that they were ready for school and were going to hop right out of bed in the morning. HA! LIARS!
Camden is normally my morning person. If she isn't up by the time I head in to wake them up, she'll quickly sit up, smile at me and get on with the morning tasks. Hannah, on the other hand, is most decidedly NOT a morning person. I always know it's going to be touch and go with that one. This morning, I had two Hannahs on my hands.
I managed to get them both in an upright position and dressed. Camden had her eyes shut the whole time. Hannah refused to even lift an arm to help me out and kept toppling backwards onto her bed with some "I'm done with this bull crap" sighs and grunts. Me too, Hannah, me too.
Breathe, Mom, breathe! This will all be over in about 40 minutes.
I ushered them both, still blinking like newborns who aren't quite sure what to do with all of the light, to the bathroom. We got their hair fixed and their morning bathroom needs taken care of without too much issue.
Right about now, Logan starts yelling from his crib and kicking the wall with both feet to let me know he's awake. Awesome. Let me just get the girls' breakfast started first, little man, then it's your turn.
Out to the kitchen we go. Hannah (usually) is fully awake by now and makes a quick breakfast decision. Camden, on the other hand, chooses this moment to get indecisive, uncooperative, and to start whining that we don't have what she wants for breakfast. I'm starting to get impatient and more than a little irritated because of the very unhappy noises coming out of the baby boy room, and I just want her to make a decision so I can go get the baby situation taken care of. We all know what you are going to pick, Camden, so just pick it! That's what my head is screaming. My outer mother is very calmly giving her options, even though I could already have what I know she is going to pick ready and on the table. Give her time, Mom, she's still very little (I have to constantly talk myself off of freak out ledges in the morning). Almost every morning Hannah wants a bagel with butter and Camden wants a bagel with cream cheese. Hannah's breakfast is taken care of when Camden finally decides on her (surprise) cream cheese bagel. Done!
As soon as they are at the table eating, it's off to get little man. I catch him mid-scream. The minute he hears the door creak open, he stops, giggles, jumps on his mattress a few times, and raises his arms so I can get him out of the crib. The easy part is over, though, because now it's time to change that diaper and dress him. Changing his morning diaper should be an Olympic event. He laughs through me getting his sleeper off, but the minute that diaper comes off, he goes stiff as a board and starts crying like I have him chained to the wall and am beating him with a 2 by 4 full of rusty old nails. I thought the girls were the dramatic ones! Once the clean diaper is on, he spends his getting dressed time throwing every article of clothing he possibly can onto the floor. He thinks he's hilarious!
Mid-diaper change, it never fails that Camden will come in fussing that she changed her mind and doesn't want her cream cheese bagel afterall. Can she have chex mix? Goldfish? Cookies? Spaghetti for breakfast instead? Yes, Camden you can have all of those things. When you are an adult living on your own and I'm not there to force you to eat something a little more breakfast worthy. NO! Get back to the table and eat your bagel. That was your choice, now you need to eat it or go to school hungry. I'm elbows deep in changing a diaper and I. CANNOT. HELP. YOU. for at least another 5 minutes. Just go eat!!!! Please!!!
By the time teeth are brushed, shoes and coats are on, and we are packed up ready to go, I'm thankful that I'm giving them to someone else for the day. That morning 40 minutes is the longest 40 minutes of my day.
Want to know how I know I'm insane? I start missing those little stink pots the minute I pull out of the school parking lot. I have cried pulling away from the school more times this year than ever before because the minute I get in the car, do a little happy to be free dance, and breathe a sigh of relief, I start missing them with an ache that goes all the way to my toes. Yes, I still get Logan all day, but he misses them, too! He wanders the house looking for them, which makes me miss them even more.
They are growing up way too fast on me. Pretty soon, they won't need me there to drag them out of bed (well, OK, maybe that part will always be my job), but they won't need me to dress them, do their hair, get them breakfast, and try to love them through a morning they aren't quite ready to be awake for yet. They'll want to take the bus to school because having your Mom drop you off and pick you up isn't quite as cool as it should be. Pretty soon, they won't need me in quite the way they need me now. So, I'm going to do my best to enjoy these mornings and to hug them through the "tough" times that every morning brings. They are happy enough by the time we head out the door. I like to think that I'm part of what turns their morning around. My fingers are crossed that they will always need me to help get their mornings on track, but deep down I know that eventually they will be able to do that on their own.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
On Remembering Important Things
We are in a very popular wedding season right now. I feel like I have people on Facebook giving a shout out to their significant other for a wedding anniversary every single time I log in right now. In fact, I was doing that same thing just a few weeks ago (9 years...whoop...whoop). It makes me smile every single time. In a day when divorce is so very common, I can't come up with more than maybe two friends who have had to go down that awful road. And the ones who have, have come out renewed and have married again...in a lasting way. I see year after year, commitment after commitment, of people having found their soul mates. It warms the heart. It really does. I pray that we all keep fighting for our marriages and our loves just like we are doing now. 9 years, 10 years, 35 years, and beyond.
The part that leaves me scratching my head is when I see a post saying something to the effect of "14 years ago on this day at this very second, our eyes met across the room and that was the beginning of the end for us. We have been together ever since that very second" or "Our first date happened on this day 7 years ago." Say, what?!? You really remember that? I can remember that Heath and I had our first date at Applebees (12 years ago? Or 13?). I remember some of what we talked about. I think it might have been in the fall(?) Maybe. I remember a few girls from my dorm floor stopping us and going on and on about how cute it was that the two of us had just gone on our first date and how great we were together. Whoa! Slow down, OK!?
I should interject and say right here that I am terrible with numbers. I forget almost immediately what the date is when I wake up in the morning. I can always tell you what day of the week it is, what happened that day, and how I felt, but the actual date...flies right out the window!!! Today is August 29th, right? Checked the calendar. Literally, just stopped and did this to reassure myself on the date. It's the 28th!!!!! FAIL!
Back to wedding anniversaries. Want to know why I'll never forget my wedding date? Because even if I tried, it's engraved on the inside of my wedding band...BOOM! Anyhow, we have a hard time buying for anniversaries. We even look up the "appropriate" wedding gifts for each year. I just looked this up recently, but I couldn't tell you what the gift for year 9 might be. Modern day gift...I want to say leather?! HUH!?! Here you go, Heath! Some fancy pants just for you!!! NOT!
Anyway, a few days before our anniversary, Heath looks at me with a twinkle in his eye and tells me that he was asking around for ideas at work. One of the ladies (OK, the only lady in the office...love you, Mary) told him that she's heard about men buying watches and setting the time to the exact time they got married years before. Heath looked at me and grinned (I love his grin) and very confidently told me we got married at around 11 in the morning. I burst out laughing! I was full of superiority! It definitely wasn't in the morning. It was around 2 in the afternoon. Right? Or, wait!!! It was definitely on the 30 minute mark. You should always get married on the upswing of the hour. That's a thing, right? So, was it 1:30 or 2:30? I still haven't checked the wedding invitation because I'm almost postive it was 2:30 and I don't want to burst my own bubble. That sounds right. Or was it? SEE!!! I can't even remember the exact time of the start of the most important moment of my life!!!
Know what I remember? Waking up at 5 in the morning so full of excitement that I couldn't get back to sleep. I remember waking up one of my bridesmaids at 6 because I didn't want to be alone watching Saved By the Bell on the biggest day of my life! Kati, you are the best! You didn't need the sleep, right? I remember all of the prep work. I remember when it was time for the rest of my life to start. I remember looking at my Dad full of nerves wondering if I was going to cry my way through this ceremony and telling him he was absolutely not to cry or I WOULD LOSE IT! Know what he did? The best thing he ever possibly could have done. He looked at me and smiled and told me that I had always had a level head and made good decisions and that he had no doubt that I had made a good decision this time. I remember this huge weight lifting off of my shoulders. I remember those huge doors opening to a crowd (a pretty big one) of faces smiling at me. Faces that had loved me and Heath from the very beginning. Some faces that had never met me before, but were still smiling at me because I was the one Heath chose. And then I found his face. My favorite face. My husband's face. I cried at every wedding before mine and every wedding after mine, but I didn't cry at my own. I felt peace. I felt love. I felt like it was 100% right. I don't remember the time, but I do remember every detail of how I felt that day.
I also can't tell you the date of the day we got engaged. It was June-ish of 2004 (bonus points for getting the year). He was leaving to move to Houston, Texas. I was staying in Ohio. I was pretty sure if he left without putting a ring on my finger, that would be the end of the best thing I had ever known. Guys. He put a ring on it. Very late at night. On the last night before he left. At the house I grew up in. My mom was sleeping. My Dad and brothers were watching a movie. I was in my pj's and headed to bed. Heath followed me up to my room to say good-night, got down on his knee in the pitch black and asked me to do him the honor of being his wife. It was perfect. I remember every detail...except the date!!!! OOPS!!!
I wish I had a mind for numbers. I'm probably (hopefully) never going to forget the actual birthdate of any member of my family. The other numbers might go (and more quickly than I'm anticipating) with time. Hannah is only five and I still have to stop and really think about what time she was born (4:41 pm, thank you very much). I can give you the time and her weight, but her length is already gone. I'm sure the other numbers will be gone soon, too. Luckily, I wrote them down. I can tell you exactly how I felt, though. I remember every gory, beautiful detail. I remember crying in wonder. I didn't have the most fun pregnancy. I literally threw up every day through the whole 9 months. I was miserable. I remember looking at Heath before they had even cleaned Hannah up and brought her back to me and telling him that I would absolutely do it all over again. Because of the love I felt that day. In that moment. And every moment after.
Guess what? I did it again. 2 more times. I threw up basically the whole pregnancy with the next 2 as well. Stinkers. Camden and Logan are going to throw me for a loop. One was born at 12:06 pm (Logan) and one was born at 12:17 pm (Camden). I can tell you now who is who, but in a few years, I will probably forget. However, I guarantee I will always be able to tell you how I felt with each baby. (Side note. I just put Logan down for a nap and have a poster up with all his birth stats in his room. He was born at 12:07. Dang it!!!! Now I need to go back and check Camden's time. Oops again! Camden was actually born at 12:16. I was close! Don't feel too bad for my kids)!
I have had 4 best days of my life so far. I can tell you the dates (so far) and the times (sort of...close enough), and I can guarantee I can tell you exactly how I felt, even as the numbers start to fade. I wish I had a mind for numbers. I have no doubt that those of you with minds for numbers who can remember dates AND times can also remember the feeling. For me, I'll just have to stick with the feeling...and general date. Any of you want to remember the exact dates and times for me, too!?!
Isn't life amazing, you guys? Soak in every single major (and minor) detail. Whether you remember details (like dates...I'm just jealous of those of you who can) or not, I guarantee you will always remember the feelings. What a blessing!
The part that leaves me scratching my head is when I see a post saying something to the effect of "14 years ago on this day at this very second, our eyes met across the room and that was the beginning of the end for us. We have been together ever since that very second" or "Our first date happened on this day 7 years ago." Say, what?!? You really remember that? I can remember that Heath and I had our first date at Applebees (12 years ago? Or 13?). I remember some of what we talked about. I think it might have been in the fall(?) Maybe. I remember a few girls from my dorm floor stopping us and going on and on about how cute it was that the two of us had just gone on our first date and how great we were together. Whoa! Slow down, OK!?
I should interject and say right here that I am terrible with numbers. I forget almost immediately what the date is when I wake up in the morning. I can always tell you what day of the week it is, what happened that day, and how I felt, but the actual date...flies right out the window!!! Today is August 29th, right? Checked the calendar. Literally, just stopped and did this to reassure myself on the date. It's the 28th!!!!! FAIL!
Back to wedding anniversaries. Want to know why I'll never forget my wedding date? Because even if I tried, it's engraved on the inside of my wedding band...BOOM! Anyhow, we have a hard time buying for anniversaries. We even look up the "appropriate" wedding gifts for each year. I just looked this up recently, but I couldn't tell you what the gift for year 9 might be. Modern day gift...I want to say leather?! HUH!?! Here you go, Heath! Some fancy pants just for you!!! NOT!
Anyway, a few days before our anniversary, Heath looks at me with a twinkle in his eye and tells me that he was asking around for ideas at work. One of the ladies (OK, the only lady in the office...love you, Mary) told him that she's heard about men buying watches and setting the time to the exact time they got married years before. Heath looked at me and grinned (I love his grin) and very confidently told me we got married at around 11 in the morning. I burst out laughing! I was full of superiority! It definitely wasn't in the morning. It was around 2 in the afternoon. Right? Or, wait!!! It was definitely on the 30 minute mark. You should always get married on the upswing of the hour. That's a thing, right? So, was it 1:30 or 2:30? I still haven't checked the wedding invitation because I'm almost postive it was 2:30 and I don't want to burst my own bubble. That sounds right. Or was it? SEE!!! I can't even remember the exact time of the start of the most important moment of my life!!!
Know what I remember? Waking up at 5 in the morning so full of excitement that I couldn't get back to sleep. I remember waking up one of my bridesmaids at 6 because I didn't want to be alone watching Saved By the Bell on the biggest day of my life! Kati, you are the best! You didn't need the sleep, right? I remember all of the prep work. I remember when it was time for the rest of my life to start. I remember looking at my Dad full of nerves wondering if I was going to cry my way through this ceremony and telling him he was absolutely not to cry or I WOULD LOSE IT! Know what he did? The best thing he ever possibly could have done. He looked at me and smiled and told me that I had always had a level head and made good decisions and that he had no doubt that I had made a good decision this time. I remember this huge weight lifting off of my shoulders. I remember those huge doors opening to a crowd (a pretty big one) of faces smiling at me. Faces that had loved me and Heath from the very beginning. Some faces that had never met me before, but were still smiling at me because I was the one Heath chose. And then I found his face. My favorite face. My husband's face. I cried at every wedding before mine and every wedding after mine, but I didn't cry at my own. I felt peace. I felt love. I felt like it was 100% right. I don't remember the time, but I do remember every detail of how I felt that day.
I also can't tell you the date of the day we got engaged. It was June-ish of 2004 (bonus points for getting the year). He was leaving to move to Houston, Texas. I was staying in Ohio. I was pretty sure if he left without putting a ring on my finger, that would be the end of the best thing I had ever known. Guys. He put a ring on it. Very late at night. On the last night before he left. At the house I grew up in. My mom was sleeping. My Dad and brothers were watching a movie. I was in my pj's and headed to bed. Heath followed me up to my room to say good-night, got down on his knee in the pitch black and asked me to do him the honor of being his wife. It was perfect. I remember every detail...except the date!!!! OOPS!!!
I wish I had a mind for numbers. I'm probably (hopefully) never going to forget the actual birthdate of any member of my family. The other numbers might go (and more quickly than I'm anticipating) with time. Hannah is only five and I still have to stop and really think about what time she was born (4:41 pm, thank you very much). I can give you the time and her weight, but her length is already gone. I'm sure the other numbers will be gone soon, too. Luckily, I wrote them down. I can tell you exactly how I felt, though. I remember every gory, beautiful detail. I remember crying in wonder. I didn't have the most fun pregnancy. I literally threw up every day through the whole 9 months. I was miserable. I remember looking at Heath before they had even cleaned Hannah up and brought her back to me and telling him that I would absolutely do it all over again. Because of the love I felt that day. In that moment. And every moment after.
Guess what? I did it again. 2 more times. I threw up basically the whole pregnancy with the next 2 as well. Stinkers. Camden and Logan are going to throw me for a loop. One was born at 12:06 pm (Logan) and one was born at 12:17 pm (Camden). I can tell you now who is who, but in a few years, I will probably forget. However, I guarantee I will always be able to tell you how I felt with each baby. (Side note. I just put Logan down for a nap and have a poster up with all his birth stats in his room. He was born at 12:07. Dang it!!!! Now I need to go back and check Camden's time. Oops again! Camden was actually born at 12:16. I was close! Don't feel too bad for my kids)!
I have had 4 best days of my life so far. I can tell you the dates (so far) and the times (sort of...close enough), and I can guarantee I can tell you exactly how I felt, even as the numbers start to fade. I wish I had a mind for numbers. I have no doubt that those of you with minds for numbers who can remember dates AND times can also remember the feeling. For me, I'll just have to stick with the feeling...and general date. Any of you want to remember the exact dates and times for me, too!?!
Isn't life amazing, you guys? Soak in every single major (and minor) detail. Whether you remember details (like dates...I'm just jealous of those of you who can) or not, I guarantee you will always remember the feelings. What a blessing!
Thursday, August 21, 2014
On Finding Family No Matter Where You Are.
We have moved 2 times in the 5 years since we had our first child in 2009. The moves took us places where we did not know a soul. Do you know how daunting it is to move to a place where there is not so much as a friendly face in your line of vision? Actually, I bet a lot of you do!
I've done this 3 times in the course of a life that I thought would never take me more than 20 minutes from my parents, my family, my home. One was before kids. I think it was actually harder before kids. Lucky for me, God threw Heath's Aunt and Uncle in my path. Literally. They lived 15 minutes away and saw that I needed someone to have my back. They refused to give up on me. They saved my sanity and helped me learn how to really pull myself up by the bootstraps and to "put on my big girl panties", right Laverne!?!
Six months after they started their part in loving me through it all, we met the best friends we could have ever asked for. I still call Kristin any time I really need an ear that understands what I'm going through because she knows better than almost anyone what I've been through before, so she knows how to deal with what I'm going through now. That's a best friend! We "grew up" in our marriages together. We had babies together. They are some of the best family we got to handpick as our own. Someday, Kristin and Jeremy, we will live close again!
After leaving them, I think the only reason that I haven't ended up a crying puddle of goo that can't move from the floor is because I now have 3 little souls to take care of, lead, teach, and put before any self-centered indulgence I might have. No matter how huge that pull to cry in a closet for days on end might be, I cannot do it. Who would get my babies to school, feed them, care for them, make them dinner, love on them like I do? Honestly, if I lost it, no one could take my place. I'm not saying that to be egocentric, full of myself, or prideful. I am their mother. There is literally no one else who can take my place. I have a job, duty, full-hearted desire to be there. Be present. Be their rock even if I can't be my own. Be everything for them that I want them to be. They are learning from me, so I'll fake it until I make it if I have to.
Moving without kids was hard enough, but that need for a kindered spirit intensifies a million times when you have little ones to take care of. Finding someone who can identify one hundered percent with the anxiety you have about raising another human being in a way that makes them a caring, loving, productive member of society helps ease the burden. It's the biggest job anyone can ever have. Being a parent. Doing it without a support group is incredibly scary, daunting, overwhelming.
You know how I know God exists and loves me (aside from all of the blessings I have in front of my face daily)? Because every single time we have moved and been isolated and on our own, He has given us faces full of love, caring, understanding, immediate acceptance. Faces who have taken up a part of our hearts and become family.
I have wonderful parents. I would give anything to be closer to "home" to see them daily. To see my brothers and in-laws daily. To watch our nieces and nephews grow and learn. To hug on them every single day. Until that is a possibility, we fully embrace the people who take us in, love us, accept us, enjoy us, and make us feel like we have a home away from home.
I would love to list you all from day one. I hope and pray you know who you are, even without your name written here for all to see. From grade school right on up. Right now, I am incredibly thankful for the Archuleta family, for the connection I've made with Veronica and her kids (and yes, Jarrod, you too, even though we've only gotten our families together a time or two), to Diana (who is going through something far harder than I could ever imagine), for the Santa Fe family we weren't sure we would have, but were surprised to find so quickly.
Ohio/West Virginia people you know who you are! Midland people...you know who you are! I could go on and on about Midland people. You all might be a whole different blog post. Friendswood people. Grade school, high school, college people...I think/hope you know who you are.
Huge win finding people to love everywhere we go. I have a list of people who I have fallen completely in love with everywhere we have lived. As hard as moving so often can be, I am grateful because you are part of my life. I'll carry you in my heart forever. It doesn't matter if we talk daily, weekly, monthly, yearly, you mean more to us than words can say.
I've done this 3 times in the course of a life that I thought would never take me more than 20 minutes from my parents, my family, my home. One was before kids. I think it was actually harder before kids. Lucky for me, God threw Heath's Aunt and Uncle in my path. Literally. They lived 15 minutes away and saw that I needed someone to have my back. They refused to give up on me. They saved my sanity and helped me learn how to really pull myself up by the bootstraps and to "put on my big girl panties", right Laverne!?!
Six months after they started their part in loving me through it all, we met the best friends we could have ever asked for. I still call Kristin any time I really need an ear that understands what I'm going through because she knows better than almost anyone what I've been through before, so she knows how to deal with what I'm going through now. That's a best friend! We "grew up" in our marriages together. We had babies together. They are some of the best family we got to handpick as our own. Someday, Kristin and Jeremy, we will live close again!
After leaving them, I think the only reason that I haven't ended up a crying puddle of goo that can't move from the floor is because I now have 3 little souls to take care of, lead, teach, and put before any self-centered indulgence I might have. No matter how huge that pull to cry in a closet for days on end might be, I cannot do it. Who would get my babies to school, feed them, care for them, make them dinner, love on them like I do? Honestly, if I lost it, no one could take my place. I'm not saying that to be egocentric, full of myself, or prideful. I am their mother. There is literally no one else who can take my place. I have a job, duty, full-hearted desire to be there. Be present. Be their rock even if I can't be my own. Be everything for them that I want them to be. They are learning from me, so I'll fake it until I make it if I have to.
Moving without kids was hard enough, but that need for a kindered spirit intensifies a million times when you have little ones to take care of. Finding someone who can identify one hundered percent with the anxiety you have about raising another human being in a way that makes them a caring, loving, productive member of society helps ease the burden. It's the biggest job anyone can ever have. Being a parent. Doing it without a support group is incredibly scary, daunting, overwhelming.
You know how I know God exists and loves me (aside from all of the blessings I have in front of my face daily)? Because every single time we have moved and been isolated and on our own, He has given us faces full of love, caring, understanding, immediate acceptance. Faces who have taken up a part of our hearts and become family.
I have wonderful parents. I would give anything to be closer to "home" to see them daily. To see my brothers and in-laws daily. To watch our nieces and nephews grow and learn. To hug on them every single day. Until that is a possibility, we fully embrace the people who take us in, love us, accept us, enjoy us, and make us feel like we have a home away from home.
I would love to list you all from day one. I hope and pray you know who you are, even without your name written here for all to see. From grade school right on up. Right now, I am incredibly thankful for the Archuleta family, for the connection I've made with Veronica and her kids (and yes, Jarrod, you too, even though we've only gotten our families together a time or two), to Diana (who is going through something far harder than I could ever imagine), for the Santa Fe family we weren't sure we would have, but were surprised to find so quickly.
Ohio/West Virginia people you know who you are! Midland people...you know who you are! I could go on and on about Midland people. You all might be a whole different blog post. Friendswood people. Grade school, high school, college people...I think/hope you know who you are.
Huge win finding people to love everywhere we go. I have a list of people who I have fallen completely in love with everywhere we have lived. As hard as moving so often can be, I am grateful because you are part of my life. I'll carry you in my heart forever. It doesn't matter if we talk daily, weekly, monthly, yearly, you mean more to us than words can say.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
On Brushing Kid Teeth
Here are my deep and very controversial opinions on...kid teeth. How simple, yet how incredibly difficult it can be sometimes.
Hannah was put completely under anesthesia at age 3 to have some issues with her teeth taken care of. She had 6 caps and several other tooth-colored fillings done. IT. WAS. AWFUL.
I'll never forget the devastation and incredible guilt I felt when we found out exactly what was going on in her mouth. It was a huge blow. We brushed twice a day. We let her do it on her own in the morning and we would make sure she had a thorough night brushing. She has never had excessive amounts of sugar (although, the girl does love cake and cookies...she is mine after all)! We thought we were doing it right and were on top of things. Apparently, we were wrong.
The dentist we saw was incredibly comforting. He assured us this was probably nothing we could have prevented. She has super soft baby teeth and according to him, it was bound to happen. Several of his own kids had the same issue.
Still. There was that guilt.
Especially on the day she got everything corrected.
We walked in to the office first thing in the morning. Since she was so young, she was first on the list. The anesthesiologist came out, gave her a shot that was supposed to knock her completely loopy and sat with us for about 10 minutes. Hannah was still begging to go home and seemed aware, but at the same time was completely out of it. Like she was a more than drunk 18-year-old at their first college party. That was terrifying for a me to see as a parent. I was starting to panic watching her unsual behavior and inability to focus. It was very unnerving.
He asked if I wanted him to give her more because he had never seen a kid fight it like Hannah was fighting it. I immediately told him NO and to take her back to see how it went. Turns out, even though she was answering our questions and forming complete thoughts, she was definitely out of it. He didn't bring her back to me, but got her all the way under without a fight.
It took them over an hour to correct everything. When it was over, they wanted me to be the only one with her as she woke up to make it "easier". I spent 20 minutes in a room alone with her wrestling to keep her safe as she very angrily came out of her anesthesia. Anyone ever fought to hold and keep a 40-lb kid safe as they came out of anesthesia? It was not fun. I was also 8 weeks pregnant with Logan at the time and was terrified that she was going to (very unintentionally) kick me right in the stomach. Luckily, we all came out unharmed, but completley exhausted. They sent us home before she could even stand up on her own.
It was a rough afternoon. Hours later, she tried to walk for the first time. It was very unsuccessful. I had to hold her under the armpits to keep her on her feet. She finally came out of it, but I vowed to never see one of my kids look like that for teeth again.
The next month was a nightmare of her screaming in pain every time we brushed. The toothbrush came out bloody every time. We saw 3 different dentists. It was the third dentist who (while still not locating the problem) sat us down and showed us how to properly brush. This didn't fix the problem (as she had cement from her work left in her mouth at the gum line causing the irritation...we found this out 2 months later at a routine dentist visit), but it did help with the pain and bleeding.
He showed me how to lay her head down in my lap to have the best view of all of her teeth.
He explained that scrubbing with the toothbrush did nothing but spread the food around. He showed how to do VERY gentle circles to get the food out because that is what the brushes were designed for. We had a happy camper again! Seriously! No pressure needed on those sweet little teeth! I always thought that was the way to get teeth squeeky clean. I was wrong!
She also has a very sensitive gag reflex. Telling her to open her mouth as wide as she can while I get those back teeth has alleviated this particular problem. We still implement this method for brushing those pesky molars.
We sing songs as we brush, as well. That makes her more involved in the nightly brushing and helps time go faster.
She is in charge of her own morning brushing. She does a great job and accepts guidance without a fight. She's a pretty awesome little lady!
Sometimes you are just born with good teeth genes. Hannah happened to not be. I hadn't gone to the dentist in an embarrassing number of months (Ok, fine. Years.) and neither had Heath. After we moved to Santa Fe, we decided it was time for us to get on the tooth exam train that we forced the kids to be on. I literally flossed the day I went to the dentist...for the first time in several years. Heath had been flossing every day for a long time. The denist told him to floss daily since he clearly wasn't doing that. I was told to keep up whatever I was doing because my teeth were in great shape and had obviously been flossed regularly. I was happy. Heath....not so much.
Win on happy teeth genes. Fail on realizing my kids might not be so lucky! Now I know, though! The other two Lynch babies have passed their dental exams with flying colors...so far.
Hannah was put completely under anesthesia at age 3 to have some issues with her teeth taken care of. She had 6 caps and several other tooth-colored fillings done. IT. WAS. AWFUL.
I'll never forget the devastation and incredible guilt I felt when we found out exactly what was going on in her mouth. It was a huge blow. We brushed twice a day. We let her do it on her own in the morning and we would make sure she had a thorough night brushing. She has never had excessive amounts of sugar (although, the girl does love cake and cookies...she is mine after all)! We thought we were doing it right and were on top of things. Apparently, we were wrong.
The dentist we saw was incredibly comforting. He assured us this was probably nothing we could have prevented. She has super soft baby teeth and according to him, it was bound to happen. Several of his own kids had the same issue.
Still. There was that guilt.
Especially on the day she got everything corrected.
We walked in to the office first thing in the morning. Since she was so young, she was first on the list. The anesthesiologist came out, gave her a shot that was supposed to knock her completely loopy and sat with us for about 10 minutes. Hannah was still begging to go home and seemed aware, but at the same time was completely out of it. Like she was a more than drunk 18-year-old at their first college party. That was terrifying for a me to see as a parent. I was starting to panic watching her unsual behavior and inability to focus. It was very unnerving.
He asked if I wanted him to give her more because he had never seen a kid fight it like Hannah was fighting it. I immediately told him NO and to take her back to see how it went. Turns out, even though she was answering our questions and forming complete thoughts, she was definitely out of it. He didn't bring her back to me, but got her all the way under without a fight.
It took them over an hour to correct everything. When it was over, they wanted me to be the only one with her as she woke up to make it "easier". I spent 20 minutes in a room alone with her wrestling to keep her safe as she very angrily came out of her anesthesia. Anyone ever fought to hold and keep a 40-lb kid safe as they came out of anesthesia? It was not fun. I was also 8 weeks pregnant with Logan at the time and was terrified that she was going to (very unintentionally) kick me right in the stomach. Luckily, we all came out unharmed, but completley exhausted. They sent us home before she could even stand up on her own.
We always tell her how lucky she is to have special shiny teeth. Parenthood lie number...I'm not even sure what number this was. It's not a big deal and we didn't want her to feel different, so we tried to make it seem fun. She didn't really buy it.
It was a rough afternoon. Hours later, she tried to walk for the first time. It was very unsuccessful. I had to hold her under the armpits to keep her on her feet. She finally came out of it, but I vowed to never see one of my kids look like that for teeth again.
The next month was a nightmare of her screaming in pain every time we brushed. The toothbrush came out bloody every time. We saw 3 different dentists. It was the third dentist who (while still not locating the problem) sat us down and showed us how to properly brush. This didn't fix the problem (as she had cement from her work left in her mouth at the gum line causing the irritation...we found this out 2 months later at a routine dentist visit), but it did help with the pain and bleeding.
He showed me how to lay her head down in my lap to have the best view of all of her teeth.
It's also super easy to pull the cheeks gently back to really get a good angle on those back teeth from here, which I couldn't do successfully here since I don't have a third hand to hold the camera.
He explained that scrubbing with the toothbrush did nothing but spread the food around. He showed how to do VERY gentle circles to get the food out because that is what the brushes were designed for. We had a happy camper again! Seriously! No pressure needed on those sweet little teeth! I always thought that was the way to get teeth squeeky clean. I was wrong!
Love this sweet smile!
She also has a very sensitive gag reflex. Telling her to open her mouth as wide as she can while I get those back teeth has alleviated this particular problem. We still implement this method for brushing those pesky molars.
We sing songs as we brush, as well. That makes her more involved in the nightly brushing and helps time go faster.
She is in charge of her own morning brushing. She does a great job and accepts guidance without a fight. She's a pretty awesome little lady!
Sometimes you are just born with good teeth genes. Hannah happened to not be. I hadn't gone to the dentist in an embarrassing number of months (Ok, fine. Years.) and neither had Heath. After we moved to Santa Fe, we decided it was time for us to get on the tooth exam train that we forced the kids to be on. I literally flossed the day I went to the dentist...for the first time in several years. Heath had been flossing every day for a long time. The denist told him to floss daily since he clearly wasn't doing that. I was told to keep up whatever I was doing because my teeth were in great shape and had obviously been flossed regularly. I was happy. Heath....not so much.
Win on happy teeth genes. Fail on realizing my kids might not be so lucky! Now I know, though! The other two Lynch babies have passed their dental exams with flying colors...so far.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
On Our Happily Ever After
9 years ago today, at 2:30 in the afternoon, the ceremony that would define the rest of our lives began. One of the coolest moments was that on a perfectly clear day, there was a huge clap of thunder the second we kissed and sealed the deal. There was a short little rain shower and then the rest of the day was sunny and beautiful.
We actually missed that happening, but had quite a few people tell us about it at the reception. On our way to our hotel that night, we laughed about it and wondered if God was happy and clapping or if He was thundering mad about us being married.
9 years later, I think it's safe to say He was happily clapping.
So, here are my thoughts on marriage.
1. Marry your best friend. Marry the person you can't wait to talk to at the end of the day. The person you want to immediately share every joy, struggle and sorrow with.
2. Laugh together as often as possible. We joke around with each other all of the time. Sometimes people don't know how to take us. They can't tell if we are having a great time or are about to rip each other's heads off. It's fun for us to make people uncomfortable. Sorry people!
3. It's going to get rough sometimes, but don't stop fighting for each other. We are (hopefully) on the other side of a rough patch. Luckily for us, it only lasts a few days and then all is forgiven and forgotten.
4. Forgive and forget. The forgive part is easy. The forget part, not so much. The only person you are hurting by hanging on to anger and resentment is yourself. We are all human and make mistakes. Give your spouse the same grace you want them to give you.
5. Try not to fight. Some of you who thrive on conflict are laughing right now. We don't happen to be aggressive people. I personally hate conflict. I can probably count on one hand the number of times that we've had actual fights. That being said...
6. It's OK to get irritated and upset. Just make sure you talk about it. It took us several years to get to the point where we could be completely honest about how we were feeling. We didn't want to hurt each other's feelings or make the other person feel unloved. We have a lot more trust now that we are completely honest and open. We know we are safe coming to each other about not so pleasant things because we know we will still love each other once it's been said.
7. Try to put each other first. I know in the craziness of life, especially for those of us with kids, it can be really hard. They don't have to be big things, though, guys. Make them their favorite meal. Help them clean up something that you don't normally take responsibility for. I love taking Heath Starbucks when he's been at work for a few hours and I have some free time. It's an easy thing for me to do that let's him know I'm thinking about him and appreciate the hard work he does for our family.
8. Hug and touch each other. Heath can't walk by me without smacking me on the booty. It makes me laugh every time. I told him once that I'll know something is wrong in our relationship when he walks by and doesn't give me my love smack. I like to get in his way and hug him when he's in the middle of something. One because it irritates him in a "I'm going to roll my eyes, but would really miss this if you stopped" kind of way. Two because I just can't help it. Sometimes I just really need to hug him.
9. Be selfless, not selfish. One of the biggest things that we do that helps when things get tough is to take a step back and look at things from each other's perspective. As humans, it's very easy to get wrapped up in our own needs and wants, but it is important to see things from the other side.
10. Just love each other.
We are by no means experts on marriage and love, but whatever we are doing is working...so far. I love that man more and more every year, day, minute that passes. So, Heath Lynch, just remember that I love you with all my heart and will for all of our days. I meant what I said when we took our vows. You are everything...until death do us part...and beyond.
We actually missed that happening, but had quite a few people tell us about it at the reception. On our way to our hotel that night, we laughed about it and wondered if God was happy and clapping or if He was thundering mad about us being married.
9 years later, I think it's safe to say He was happily clapping.
So, here are my thoughts on marriage.
1. Marry your best friend. Marry the person you can't wait to talk to at the end of the day. The person you want to immediately share every joy, struggle and sorrow with.
2. Laugh together as often as possible. We joke around with each other all of the time. Sometimes people don't know how to take us. They can't tell if we are having a great time or are about to rip each other's heads off. It's fun for us to make people uncomfortable. Sorry people!
3. It's going to get rough sometimes, but don't stop fighting for each other. We are (hopefully) on the other side of a rough patch. Luckily for us, it only lasts a few days and then all is forgiven and forgotten.
4. Forgive and forget. The forgive part is easy. The forget part, not so much. The only person you are hurting by hanging on to anger and resentment is yourself. We are all human and make mistakes. Give your spouse the same grace you want them to give you.
5. Try not to fight. Some of you who thrive on conflict are laughing right now. We don't happen to be aggressive people. I personally hate conflict. I can probably count on one hand the number of times that we've had actual fights. That being said...
6. It's OK to get irritated and upset. Just make sure you talk about it. It took us several years to get to the point where we could be completely honest about how we were feeling. We didn't want to hurt each other's feelings or make the other person feel unloved. We have a lot more trust now that we are completely honest and open. We know we are safe coming to each other about not so pleasant things because we know we will still love each other once it's been said.
7. Try to put each other first. I know in the craziness of life, especially for those of us with kids, it can be really hard. They don't have to be big things, though, guys. Make them their favorite meal. Help them clean up something that you don't normally take responsibility for. I love taking Heath Starbucks when he's been at work for a few hours and I have some free time. It's an easy thing for me to do that let's him know I'm thinking about him and appreciate the hard work he does for our family.
8. Hug and touch each other. Heath can't walk by me without smacking me on the booty. It makes me laugh every time. I told him once that I'll know something is wrong in our relationship when he walks by and doesn't give me my love smack. I like to get in his way and hug him when he's in the middle of something. One because it irritates him in a "I'm going to roll my eyes, but would really miss this if you stopped" kind of way. Two because I just can't help it. Sometimes I just really need to hug him.
9. Be selfless, not selfish. One of the biggest things that we do that helps when things get tough is to take a step back and look at things from each other's perspective. As humans, it's very easy to get wrapped up in our own needs and wants, but it is important to see things from the other side.
10. Just love each other.
We are by no means experts on marriage and love, but whatever we are doing is working...so far. I love that man more and more every year, day, minute that passes. So, Heath Lynch, just remember that I love you with all my heart and will for all of our days. I meant what I said when we took our vows. You are everything...until death do us part...and beyond.
Monday, August 11, 2014
On Back to School
Just a few short months ago, I was wondering what on Earth I was going to come up with to keep us busy all summer. I was sure it was going to crawl by. Guess what? It FLEW. The girls had orientation today and school starts for real tomorrow. What?!? Where the heck did summer go?
We had big plans to hit a water park, go to the zoo, go to the Children's Museum, Library, and play at the park every day. We did almost none of these things. The days flew right on by! We did make it to the park about once a week. We went to a water park when we were on vacation. We made it to the library once, too. The girls each had gymnastics once a week. That was it...all summer. Most days, we were happy right here just enjoying our yard and all of the fun toys we have in this house.
Looking back on summers growing up, we didn't rush from one thing to the next. Our days weren't planned full of activities, yet we still had a great time. I have wonderful memories of playing outside, reading all day, playing goofy games with my brothers, and spending time at the pool. We didn't rush from place to place and thing to thing to fill the hours. We just enjoyed the time relaxing at home.
Last week as we rushed through store after store filling the school supply lists and stocking up on uniforms, I was ready for the craziness of having three kids at home all of the time to end. I have been looking foward to back to school more than I should. I'm ready for a minute to sit and breathe and not be constantly filling kid needs. Having just Logan here is going to feel like vacation.
I feel a little guilty and selfish saying that, but it's true. My patience level is going to jump tremendously starting tomorrow. I won't be nearly as tired at the end of the day. I'll have a little time just for me again.
I sat down last night to plan out what I'm going to do with my new found freedom. I'm going to finally get this house all the way clean all at one time. I'm going to sit in the silence while Logan naps and read. I'm going to eat lunch before my food gets cold. I'm going to play just with Logan. I'm going to get in a routine of working out. And then I ran out of ideas and realized what I'm going to miss even more than a quiet, clean house.
I'm going to miss the girls. I'm going to want to do puzzles and hug them in the middle of the day. I'm going to drink chocolate milk in the afternoon and wish they were here drinking some with me. I'm going to plan their favorite meals for dinner so that they know I was thinking about them all day. I'm going to get bored during Logan's nap.
As much as I'm looking forward to the freedom that sending them to school grants me, I'm sure going to miss their laughter and their sweet little smiles during the day.
I'm conflicted today, guys. I am very much ready for school to start for selfish reasons, but for some different selfish reasons, I'm not at all ready for school to start.
So, for the rest of today, I'm going to make my last weekday with all of my kids count. And when tomorrow hits, and I only have one little sweetie here with me for most of the day, I'm going to fill the time with things I've been longing to do all summer. I'm sure going to enjoy this first week with the girls at school, but I'm going to be more than ready to have them back with me all day Saturday.
We had big plans to hit a water park, go to the zoo, go to the Children's Museum, Library, and play at the park every day. We did almost none of these things. The days flew right on by! We did make it to the park about once a week. We went to a water park when we were on vacation. We made it to the library once, too. The girls each had gymnastics once a week. That was it...all summer. Most days, we were happy right here just enjoying our yard and all of the fun toys we have in this house.
Looking back on summers growing up, we didn't rush from one thing to the next. Our days weren't planned full of activities, yet we still had a great time. I have wonderful memories of playing outside, reading all day, playing goofy games with my brothers, and spending time at the pool. We didn't rush from place to place and thing to thing to fill the hours. We just enjoyed the time relaxing at home.
Last week as we rushed through store after store filling the school supply lists and stocking up on uniforms, I was ready for the craziness of having three kids at home all of the time to end. I have been looking foward to back to school more than I should. I'm ready for a minute to sit and breathe and not be constantly filling kid needs. Having just Logan here is going to feel like vacation.
I feel a little guilty and selfish saying that, but it's true. My patience level is going to jump tremendously starting tomorrow. I won't be nearly as tired at the end of the day. I'll have a little time just for me again.
I sat down last night to plan out what I'm going to do with my new found freedom. I'm going to finally get this house all the way clean all at one time. I'm going to sit in the silence while Logan naps and read. I'm going to eat lunch before my food gets cold. I'm going to play just with Logan. I'm going to get in a routine of working out. And then I ran out of ideas and realized what I'm going to miss even more than a quiet, clean house.
I'm going to miss the girls. I'm going to want to do puzzles and hug them in the middle of the day. I'm going to drink chocolate milk in the afternoon and wish they were here drinking some with me. I'm going to plan their favorite meals for dinner so that they know I was thinking about them all day. I'm going to get bored during Logan's nap.
As much as I'm looking forward to the freedom that sending them to school grants me, I'm sure going to miss their laughter and their sweet little smiles during the day.
I'm conflicted today, guys. I am very much ready for school to start for selfish reasons, but for some different selfish reasons, I'm not at all ready for school to start.
So, for the rest of today, I'm going to make my last weekday with all of my kids count. And when tomorrow hits, and I only have one little sweetie here with me for most of the day, I'm going to fill the time with things I've been longing to do all summer. I'm sure going to enjoy this first week with the girls at school, but I'm going to be more than ready to have them back with me all day Saturday.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
On Taco Tuesday
I spend way more time than I should searching for recipes that I think the whole family will love. Thank you, Pinterest, for making it way easier than having to dig through cookbook after cookbook! I like to meet the needs of everyone in one meal so that I don't have hungry, cranky people on my hands. The kids love simple, cheese filled meals. Heath is working his butt off...literally...and likes a healthy meal that fills him up. The man has lost over 30 lbs in the past 4 months or so and is looking amazing. I don't want to sabatoge that!
Know what meal everyone agrees on that we have weekly? Tacos! So why not on Tuesday? It has a nice ring to it. It helps that I know exactly what to make every single Tuesday.
I have spent way too much time making time consuming meals that I don't particularly love just to try and please everyone. I am not a foodie. I am a picky eater with simple taste buds, so putting extra thought and work into something I'm not really going to appreciate seems a bit pointless...unless everyone else likes it. It is then worth it's weight in gold.
Heath is a man of few words and doesn't praise a lot of things. Not because he doesn't appreciate them. I know he does, but he doesn't typically show it through words. Want to know the only meal I make that he will look at the kids and say, "Did you thank Mommy for a delicious dinner?" about? TACOS! Say, what? The meal I put the least effort into gets the biggest praise!
So, here you go!
TACO TUESDAY TACOS
1 lb lean ground beef or ground turkey
1/4 cup taco seasoning mix (or a pre-packaged taco seasoning pack or your own pre-made
taco seasoning mix...that would be awesome!)
2/3 cup of water
Tortillas
Shredded Lettuce
Shredded Cheese (we like the Mexican cheese mix)
Tomato
Avocado
Onion
Salsa and/or guacomole
Sour Cream
1. Brown your beef/turkey. Add 1/4 cup of taco seasoning and your water. Let simmer until the mixture thickens.
2. Chop up your avocado, tomato, and onion. Make your guacomole if you are a make it
from scratch kind of person. Heath is, I am not. When I "cook" we use pre-made stuff.
3. Do whatever the heck you want with the above ingredients.
* For the kids, I mix ground beef, smashed up avocado, and cheese together. I
give them that in a bowl with a warm tortilla on the side and they down every
bite.
* Heath and I usually eat ours taco salad style with a big bed of lettuce and
and all of our toppings piled on top. If we have healthy tortillas, we'll do things
soft taco style like a normal person.
I'm not sure why such a simple, every day recipe works so well, but let's not question it too much. It's a perfect weeknight meal for a person like me who isn't a great chef and doesn't really love cooking. You can really do whatever you want with it. Sometimes we have chips and guacomole on the side. Usually we just put the guacomole on top of our taco salad with salsa to give it a little more taste.
I always feel good about myself and give myself a pat on the back on Taco Tuesday. Everyone eats. No one complains. No one goes to bed hungry.
Finding a meal that the whole family will devour is a definite win! Please pass on any recipes that your whole family loves. We are always on the look out for yummy and popular meals here!
Know what meal everyone agrees on that we have weekly? Tacos! So why not on Tuesday? It has a nice ring to it. It helps that I know exactly what to make every single Tuesday.
I have spent way too much time making time consuming meals that I don't particularly love just to try and please everyone. I am not a foodie. I am a picky eater with simple taste buds, so putting extra thought and work into something I'm not really going to appreciate seems a bit pointless...unless everyone else likes it. It is then worth it's weight in gold.
Heath is a man of few words and doesn't praise a lot of things. Not because he doesn't appreciate them. I know he does, but he doesn't typically show it through words. Want to know the only meal I make that he will look at the kids and say, "Did you thank Mommy for a delicious dinner?" about? TACOS! Say, what? The meal I put the least effort into gets the biggest praise!
So, here you go!
TACO TUESDAY TACOS
1 lb lean ground beef or ground turkey
1/4 cup taco seasoning mix (or a pre-packaged taco seasoning pack or your own pre-made
taco seasoning mix...that would be awesome!)
2/3 cup of water
Tortillas
Shredded Lettuce
Shredded Cheese (we like the Mexican cheese mix)
Tomato
Avocado
Onion
Salsa and/or guacomole
Sour Cream
1. Brown your beef/turkey. Add 1/4 cup of taco seasoning and your water. Let simmer until the mixture thickens.
2. Chop up your avocado, tomato, and onion. Make your guacomole if you are a make it
from scratch kind of person. Heath is, I am not. When I "cook" we use pre-made stuff.
3. Do whatever the heck you want with the above ingredients.
* For the kids, I mix ground beef, smashed up avocado, and cheese together. I
give them that in a bowl with a warm tortilla on the side and they down every
bite.
* Heath and I usually eat ours taco salad style with a big bed of lettuce and
and all of our toppings piled on top. If we have healthy tortillas, we'll do things
soft taco style like a normal person.
I'm not sure why such a simple, every day recipe works so well, but let's not question it too much. It's a perfect weeknight meal for a person like me who isn't a great chef and doesn't really love cooking. You can really do whatever you want with it. Sometimes we have chips and guacomole on the side. Usually we just put the guacomole on top of our taco salad with salsa to give it a little more taste.
I always feel good about myself and give myself a pat on the back on Taco Tuesday. Everyone eats. No one complains. No one goes to bed hungry.
Finding a meal that the whole family will devour is a definite win! Please pass on any recipes that your whole family loves. We are always on the look out for yummy and popular meals here!
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