First Day of School

A couple of weeks ago, Jackson had his first day of kindergarten. The night before, we celebrated with his requested meal of mom's hamburgers with grilled corn on the cob. For dessert we had chocolate fondue and lots of goodies to dip. Jackson went to bed early and fell asleep right away. Mommy, on the other hand...that's another story. When you're a kid, you never hear of your mom being nervous the day before school begins, but it happens. Actually, my nervousness trumped any butterflies that Jack might have had. I kept going over the details of the next day, making sure I had everything on the supplies list, making sure it was all labeled, making sure his clothes were ironed and laid out. I wondered if he would cry when I left him, who he would sit by at the lunch table and who would be his friend on the playground. This year was extra difficult for me since Yukon schools approved all day kindergarten for this school year. I wondered if this was the right decision for a barely six-year old "baby" to be away from his mommy for eight hours a day, five days a week.
I woke up before my alarm went of the next morning and drank my coffee and packed his lunch. I wrote a note to put into his lunchbox telling him how much I loved him...just in case he forgot...by noon, you know. I sat on the porch swing and prayed for him...and me. i think mostly for me. I thought of how I'd imagined this day in my mind since the day he was born...dreaded this day actually. You hold your newborn in your arms and think that the next 5 to 6 years won't fly by, but it does. It flies...overnight. He woke up in a good mood ready for his new adventure. We decided to walk to school since it's so close and I figured that would work out any jitters he had. Sampson made the walk with us, and I think that was especially comforting to Jack. I did notice, that he packed Raffi (his beloved stuffed giraffe) in his backpack. I had to remind him that Raffi can't come out of the backpack at big school like he did at Mother's Day Out. He assured me he wouldn't take him out, but he said that it made him feel better just knowing he was there. Jon and I have had many conversations with Jack, jokingly asking if Raffi would attend his first day of kindergarten, his college graduation, his wedding day. So far, he's still hanging around.
I walked Jack into his room while Jon, Cole, and Sampson stayed outside. I helped him hang his backpack, find his name tag and put his supplies away. I kissed him goodbye and told him I would be praying for him all day. He smiled and cautiously made his way to the carpet to sit. I stood there watching and biting my nails as I saw him looking for who he might be friends with. He sat in the group of boys and I watched and listened to their conversations about superheros and what characters they had on the backpacks. I began to stereotype the kids...the jock, the troublemaker, the nerd who wore 1/2 inch thick glasses and wanted to find all the kids whose names started with a 'C' like his, the bookworm kid who wore Velcro shoes with navy socks and drooled as he stared at the reading list of books. Not much ever changes, you know. I started to feel like he was going to be okay after I saw that Jack's label was going to be somewhere between the older cool kid/role model and the ladies' man....not that I want my kid to be a ladies' man, but I did notice that he was the best looking and the little girls noticed too, so I'm just saying.

As I left, his teacher handed me this poem. i didn't have time to read it til I got home and Cole was settled in watching his cartoons and drinking chocolate milk. I read this poem, and felt peaceful knowing that she's a mother and she's been through this experience before and she must understand how I feel. The poem was called Jack and the Beanstalk, and I couldn't help but feel like it was written especially for me since the boy's name was Jack. Then, I had a good cry.

Three o' clock couldn't come fast enough for either Cole or I so at 2:30, we headed to the carpool line and parked at the catwalk and made our way to stand at Jack's door. As his teacher began sending them out, one by one, I couldn't help but smile. He ran up to me with his face beaming, and yelled, "Mom, I had a GREAT day!" All the preparation, doubt and worry disappeared as I saw the joy on his face and knew that he truly did have a great day.

Here's the poem Jack's teacher gave me:

Jack and the Beanstalk

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Jack who was about to climb his very first beanstalk. He had a fresh haircut and a brand-new book bag. Even though his friends in the neighborhood had climbed this same beanstalk almost every day last year, this was Jack's first day and he was a little nervous. So was his mother.

Early in the morning she brought him to the foot of the beanstalk. She talked encouragingly to Jack about all the fun he would have that day and how nice his giant would be. She reassured him that she would be back to pick him up at the end of the day. For a moment they stood together, silently holding hands, gazing up at the beanstalk. To Jack it seemed bigger than it had when his mother had pointed it out on the way to the store last week. His mother thought it looked big, too. She swallowed. Maybe she should have held Jack out a year...

Jack's mother straightened his shirt one last time, patted his shoulder and smiled down at him. She promised to stay and wave while he started climbing. Jack didn't say a word.

He walked forward, grabbed a low-growing stem and slowly pulled himself up to the first leaf. He balance there for a moment and then climbed more eagerly to the second leaf, then to the third and soon he had vanished into a high tangle of leaves and stems with never a backward glance at his mother.

She stood alone at the bottom of the beanstalk, gazing up at the spot where Jack had disappeared. There was no rustle, no movement, no sound to indicate that he was anywhere inside.

"Sometimes," she thought, "it's harder to be the one who waves good-bye than it is to be the one who climbs the beanstalk."

She wondered how Jack would do. Would he miss her? How would he behave? Did his giant understand that little boys sometimes acted silly when they felt unsure? She fought down the urge to spring up the stalk after Jack and maybe duck behind a bean to take a peak at how he was doing. I better not. What if he saw me? She knew Jack was really old enough to handle this on his own. She reminded herself that after all this was thought to be an excellent beanstalk and that everyone said his giant was not only kind but had outstanding qualifications.

"It's not that I'm worried about him," she thought, rubbing the back of her neck. "It's just that he's growing up and I'm going to miss him." Jack's mother turned to leave. "Jack's going to have lots of bigger beanstalks to climb in his life," she told herself.

"Today's the day he starts practicing for them...And today's the day I start practicing something too: Cheering him on and waving good-bye."

(Author Unknown)

You Make Beautiful Things Out of the Dust

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the
new has come!" -2 Corinthians 5:17


God's is taking the ugly things in my life, my character, my attitude and he's shaping me to be more like him. I'm so far from where I need to be: I'm selfish, I use my tongue as a weapon, I dwell on the past, I hold grudges, I judge others, I'm a quitter, I'm stubborn, I let fear control me, I still try to do it all on my own. But...I'm growing. I'm learning to work on these things which will, for me, be a lifelong process considering what a mess I am, but that's all part of the journey, right?
I don't have a sweet story...it's ugly truth and shameful secrets and a past that I don't like to remember, but God is still showing me how I'm not defined by these things. I've come a long way from the kicking and screaming that I used to do, when he wanted me to use my testimony to glorify him. There used to be a security in perfection. The first year Jon and I were married, our biggest argument was about cleaning the house...not the lack of cleaning, but the obsessive cleaning. I couldn't sit still. I was always up scrubbing something or switching the laundry over or mopping the floors for the 3rd time that day. Jon wanted me to sit and relax and spend time with him, but I was held captive by the irrational thought that everything had to be perfect. It had to be perfect or I was afraid he would leave me. Looking back, I laugh at how little I knew about my husband then. He is not bothered in the least by a mess. He doesn't even notice. Isn't this just like God, and how He's not bothered by what a mess we are? We don't have to fix ourselves or 'clean house' before we begin a relationship with him. He says, "Come as you are." I'm starting to think that maybe a tattered, torn story really is what's beautiful. He's taken me and he's turning me into the opposite of what I used to be. Isn't that what a relationship with Christ is all about anyway? Many times in scripture God talks about making things new through Him...not by own merits or accomplishments. I'm a hard worker and I was taught that if you want something, you have to do it yourself. But God tells me exactly opposite...He tells me that Grace is something I can't earn, He tells me to rely on him, He tells me to ask.
He's turning something ugly into something beautiful...beautiful only because His name is written on it and His hands have touched it.



"He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true." -Revelation 21:5

"Behold, I will create new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind." -Isaiah 65:17

"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past." -Isaiah 43:18

"I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh." -Ezekiel 36:26

My Baby is 6!

My, how time flies. Six years ago on July 21st, God blessed me with this little bundle of joy.




We had a great time celebrating Jack's birthday. This year instead of having a birthday party, Jackson chose to stay in a hotel downtown that he had been asking about for some time. It has a indoor pool perfect for kids, plus you can see the ballpark from your room. To top all this off, we got the room for free through a friend so we were really blessed and it made it even more special. We started out the evening by eating at Earl's, Jack's choice. Then we made a trip to the cupcake shop. We went back to our room and ate cupcakes and watched a little baseball.











After the game they did a fireworks show. I've never seen fireworks this close, it was incredible. Then we did a little swimming. It was a great birthday for a great boy and I can't think of a greater way to spend it.

Learning New from the Old

This weekend, my in-laws went out of town. Gary's mother has Alzheimer's and has been living with them for the last six months. Yesterday was my Mother-in-law's birthday and Gary wanted to take her away for a couple days to go fishing and relax. We have had the joy of spending the last two days caring for Mimi. I say joy because in these last twelve hours I've reflected on what's really important in life. I've been watching her: sit in her favorite chair and pick at her nails, and drift into and out of her own little world. Every now and then she comes back to us and carries on a conversation. Even though she repeats the same things over and over, I never grow tired of hearing stories of her childhood. Stories of living on a farm in Calvin, Oklahoma. She is a hard worker and has led quite a life. The wrinkles in her face seem to tell her story. She's a stubborn woman...stubborn in a good way. She's having a hard time letting go of her independence even though she seems to know she's not quite capable of keeping it up anymore. One thing seems to make her happy and that's the boys. Whenever they are around, she smiles and laughs and tells them what good boys they are. She doesn't seem bothered by their orneriness. She'll smile and say, "That's what little boys are supposed to do."

I worked in an Alzheimer's unit at a nursing home in college. I was a Nurses Assistant and the Activities Director. This disease has baffled me for quite some time. It's heart-wrenching to see someone revert back to child-like tendencies, to wander around aimlessly wondering what to do with themselves. Last night, she must've asked us where Gary and Gloria were four times. She seemed to get a glimmer in her eye when she asked, "So, I'm here alone this evening?" I had to explain to her that Jon and I were spending the night here too so she wasn't quite alone. Her face dropped and she closed her eyes. "I can stay by myself. I'll be just fine. So, you now have the burden of babysitting me, do you?"

"No, Mimi...we have the joy of spending time with you. You are NOT a burden." I put my hand on top of hers and her chin started to quiver. "I don't want to be a burden." My heart breaks for her. I'm holding back tears as we discuss how she just wants to go home. She tells me that she wants to go to her house and sit in her spot on her couch and be alone with her things. There's something comforting to us about "home". We learn this early in our lives that it's a place of solace, peace, a place where you feel at ease. I want her to be at ease.


We continue to talk a while and finally around 7:30, she tells me she's headed to bed. This morning she seems refreshed and ready to start over again. I know the same questions will happen today just as they did yesterday.

It made me think how this earth is not our home. Our home is with our Heavenly Father. It makes me long for Heaven. So, today I'm thankful for simple things. I'm thankful for health, for my independence, for a roof over my head. I'm thankful for my children and the innocence and joy that only children can bring. I'm thankful for being able to pick veggies out of the garden this morning and the sun that beats down on my back. I'm thankful for the cool relief from the swimming pool. I'm thankful for my mid-afternoon nap that I'll take. I'm thankful for my dog to keep me company. I'm thankful for good memories I have. I'm thankful for Mimi. I'm thankful for what joy she has brought to our family and lessons that she still teaches me today...whether she realizes it or not. Her worth is invaluable to me.

God is Close to the Brokenhearted

I heard this song today and I felt like it summed up my journey right now. This year I've endured the biggest heartaches that I have ever walked through in my life. It was an encouragement to me and reminded me that God is close to the brokenhearted. I hope it's an encouragement to you as well.



"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit."
Psalm 34:18 (NIV)

Dirty Little Secret

So, today I did something I've been putting off for a really long time...I vacuumed under all my couch cushions. I was appalled at all the stuff that was in there...embarrassed, actually. Most of my friends know me as a very perfectionistic cleaner, but this would make some of my friends' eyes bug out. Let's just say my kids haven't eaten jelly beans since LAST Easter...LAST, not THIS Easter.

Anyway, here's some of the loot, minus the two year old jelly beans, thousands of crumbs of something, a lollipop stick, cereal, hair, old popcorn, 2 Cheez-Its, and something sticky.



We did hit the jackpot though when we found the lost DVD remote, and Jack's Iron Man action figure that he lost sometime last year.

The old Iron Man and the new Iron Man.


Cole enjoyed his day while lying in his tent made with couch cushions and blankets. He was a real peach today...and by peach, I mean turd.





Who knew cleaning out the couch could be this fun?

Confessions of a Mommy

I have some confessions I'd like to make. I really need to get some things off my chest that I've been feeling a little guilty about. So...here goes nothin'.

Confession No. 1: When vacuuming, I sometimes purposely suck up Jack's Legos. I know it's terrible but I get so sick and tired of telling him to pick those little pieces up and I also get tired of bending over, so...

Confession No. 2: I ate half of the carton Blue Bunny Pralines and Cream frozen yogurt the other day at nap time. When Jack asked what I did during nap time, I told him I folded laundry.

Confession No. 3: When Cole asks me to "Watch dis Mom," I usually look away right as he's doing it and say, "Yay!" He says, "Did you see dat?" and I say, "Uh-huh...that was awesome!"

Confession No. 4: When I've had a day where I'm about to lose it because someone is yet again pitching a fit about something, I sometimes get down on the same age level as the boys and antagonize them a little bit. For example, Cole starts crying because he doesn't want to take a nap, so I call him a crybaby. And he says, "I not a crybaby." And I'll say, "Yep, crybaby. That's why you still take a nap, because you act like a little baby and cry, crybaby." It's really juvenile and mean, but it usually makes him stop crying and it just makes me feel better...so, there.

Confession No. 5: Sometimes I lock the kids out in the backyard while they're playing and ignore all the, "Hey, moms'!" About 20 minutes later I'll finally go unlock the door and act like I never heard when they called my name 142 times.

Whew! I feel better, now. Thanks for listening to my mommy confessions!