Where have I been?

The answer to the voicemails and texts asking what has kept me from the blog lately:

It's worth a thousand words, right?

P.S. Can't wait until tomorrow - early dismissal! Anyone up for the park after naptime?

September 11 ... follow-up.

As it turns out, the Principal addressed the school on September 11th during the "televised" morning announcements. She gave the students a summary of what happened and encouraged them to dedicate their daily "moment of silence" to remember and honor those who died.

That afternoon, I asked Jack if he knew what was special about that day. "We got to wear our Space Shuttle shirts," he quickly reminded me that he is five.

I explained that "there was a terrible accident in New York City on September 11th before he was born and a lot of people died in the accident. I told him that every time the calendar turns to September 11, we take time to remember the people who died. We pray for them and all of their families who miss them very much." His face was serious and he seemed to understand but did not say anything else about it. He didn't ask what kind of accident or anything and I didn't elaborate.

That night we prayed "for those in the war protecting us" and prayed "for the people who died on this special day... that they are safe in heaven with Jesus."

There you have it. That was it.

With that, I, like millions of others who were not directly effected by this tragedy, kissed my child, turned off the light, and headed off to bed with my husband by my side.

And on that particular night, I did not take any of it for granted.

Explaining September 11th.

Sitting at McDonald's today with Cara and Julie, I asked them, "Do you think they will talk about September 11 at school today?" Their immediate response: "Surely not in Kindergarten." I wouldn't be surprised - on his second day he got a coloring page home about Internet Safety - not sharing personal information, not chatting with strangers, and reporting anything that "makes them feel uncomfortable." Seriously.

These are the things I struggle with about sending my boy off to public school. I want it to be ME to first discuss these things with him... based on when WE are ready... framed with OUR values.

As I drove home, I started to wonder... if he DOES ask me about 9/11, what will I say? How will I describe what happened that day? Should I? Is he ready? Am I ready?

What happened eight years ago on September 11 must be remembered, but how do you explain it to young children? And when? I want him to know, but don't want him to fear. I want him to know love, but can he truly grasp it without an understanding of hate?

When those planes crashed, Mommys died. Daddys died. Children died. And we really haven't caught the bad guy. We tell him to hold tight to our hands, stay with us, don't go outside without Mommy, don't talk to strangers... We also assure him. God protects us and His angels watch over us and keep us safe. We pray for His protection and He provides. But what happened to those kids? Why didn't God protect them? Could this happen in San Antonio?

What if he asks me these things? What if he asks his teacher? What will a person who is not allowed to speak spiritual truth say to him? How will the words she uses or omits affect his perceptions or understandings?

I want to protect him from these things, but I can't shield him forever. We can keep the television off while he is awake and limit what he sees and hears, but not for long. Soon he will hear and he will read and he mustn't be scared or feel uninformed. He needs to be empowered with truth, and strong enough in his faith and values to understand that we live in a world where people do not believe the same things we do, talk the same way we do, or act how we are commanded to act. But at age 5?

He needs to know that people hate and fall prey to false teaching and deceptive leaders. They kill, they steal, and they destroy. I don't want him to know about the horrific things that happen in our lost world, but perhaps his understanding of the sinful nature of man will be the foundation of his understanding of grace, mercy, and the unconditional love of God. Until he knows about what it means to be lost, can he really understand what it means to be saved?

Do we start this dialogue a month after he turns five years old?

Each year on this day, we take time remember those who died at the hands of people whose hearts were filled with hate. We want to protect our kids from such horrifying things. Unfortunately for over 6000 families that day, they were given no choice. They weren't ready to surrender their kids' innocence either. They weren't ready to expose their kids either. It happened. And it happened to THEM. Still, they have pressed on, forced to live each day in the aftermath of death, loss, sadness, confusion, fear, and anger.

Today I remember and pray especially for THOSE mothers as they relive nightmares, answer impossible questions, dry tears, reassure fears, and fight to keep memories alive. I can't imagine how they must feel today as they try to explain the inexplicable, recall the unthinkable, and make sense of something so incredibly senseless.

It's the little things...

It was the tenth day of Kindergarten and I had already joined the chorus of Moms across the country complaining about backpacks and shoes piling up in the entry way of the house.

Sarah and Kim had both warned me, "Make him put his lunch box and backpack in a designated place the SECOND he gets home! If not, it'll get totally out of control!"

Well, in my house, that designated place was hanging over a chair at the kitchen table. Along with my purse. Along with the diaper bag. Along with the digital camera. Along with the jeans I don't dry. "Jaaaaaack, your baaaaack paaaack!," I call across the house every single afternoon as he immediately disappears to find a snack, leaving a trail of shoes, thermos, and lunch box behind him.

Well, that all changed tonight when Mom and Jeffry stopped by! I wanted him to "take a look" at the new storage solution I picked up on sale at Hobby Lobby this morning. I secretly hoped he'd hang it all for me to surprise Jeff, but realized they were just getting back from an anniversary road trip and would be anxious to get home. Well, I sweetened the deal with a home-cooked meal and was thrilled when he offered to hang it up right away! Yippee!

Here it is! I am so excited. Jeffry hung it all the RIGHT way, using a level, measuring tape, wall anchors, putty... the whole nine yards. I was so grateful because I was ready to "eyeball it" and slap it up on the wall. Thank you SO SO much!



I initially wanted a shelf/cubby/basket system but am so glad not to have a big piece of furniture (to dust) in that space. Besides, I can already imagine Davis kindly scattering said baskets and shoes all over the house. I got a jacket out of the back of Jack's closet just to hang on the lower hook for this picture. I know... I am a dork.

The best thing about it? Our kitchen table can finally stop being a coat rack and start doing what it was MADE for...

... Glow-in-the-Dark Dinosaur puzzles. It has been a while since I have seen that window seat all clean like that. I figured I had better take a picture while it lasts.

Tin printed "Simplify" sign: $9.99.

Wooden row of silver hooks: $12.49.

Three round silver hooks: $12.97.

A designated place for our son to hang his apron*: PRICELESS.

* Uh, Jeff is going to kill me for this one.

Missing Daddy.

I dropped Jeff off at the airport this morning for his annual trip to CEDIA (Consumer Electronics Design and Installation Something-that-starts-with-A). It's a five-night snore-fest... I mean, five-day/five-night extravaganza of all things techie and Jeff looks forward to it every year. Then when he gets home, he TIVO's all these in-depth shows about it and watches them again. I am like, "You were JUST there!!" It's kinda like how he watches highlights of the football game he JUST finished watching. He pauses the show to give me highlights and point out certain parts that were awesomer than others. I try to act interested in the Consumer Electronics products of the future, but all I am really doing is trying to spot him in the crowd.

The point of this post? Oh yeah.

So we put the car in park in the Departures lane at the airport, trying to ignore the scowls and looks of disdain from the Airport Crossing Guards wanting us to "move it along." It's not like we were making out, Jeff just needed to get his bag out of the back of the car. Jeez Louise, you give some people a badge and a whistle and the power goes straight to their heads.

Anywaaay, Jeff quickly opened the back door and kissed little Davey who was sitting in his new position in his car seat - facing forward taking in all the sights and air conditioning. Jeff said, "Bye, Bye!" and smiled as Davis' chunky little hand waved back at him.

He closed the door and I was genuinely surprised to see Davis' reaction. His little bottom lip started to quiver and he started to cry! He was looking out the window and had real tears in his eyes! It was so sad but so sweet. His crying started to die down a little until I said, "I'm sorry, baby... but Daddy's going bye-bye" and he totally started up the crying again!

It was the very first time I have ever seen Davis show even a hint of separation sadness - toward either of us! I mean, ordinarily I can hardly hold onto him because he is reaching both hands out leaning to go to the HEB soda stock boy.

When I was driving away, tears were sitting all pooled up in his blonde eyelashes and I could hardly stand it. I thought to myself, "I'll NEVER forget the pitiful look on his face right now!"

Well, I know better and that's why I have a blog. I will forget.

Jeff called earlier tonight and I couldn't hear very well (he was at a Sports Bar and I was running bath water... ahem...) and I totally forgot to tell him about it.

So Honey, I hope you are reading this in your hotel room... the little guy misses you like crazy and so do we!

Have a great time at CEDIA. I can't wait to hear ALLLLLL about it.

;)

"You'll shoot your EYE out!"

When Jack was born, it took us three years to allow anything in our home that even resembled a gun. Even then, we called them "shooters." His very first actual gun was this wooden cork pop gun we got downtown at the Alamo this summer.

And, fast forward to Baby #2.

Here is my barefoot, mis-matched PJ-wearing 13-month old using a pop gun like an old pro.



We took two videos: one is 33-seconds long and he uses it to hit the dog. The other is 40-seconds long and he smacks his brother in the face.

Lost in translation.

Jack: "Mom, there is a boy in my class who always makes bad choices."

Me: "Like what?"

J: "He tries to share snacks, breaks the tips off all his pencils, doesn't listen, and he drizzles."

M: "Drizzles? What does THAT mean?"

J (making huge circular swirling motions): "He just goes this way and that way and all over the place and makes a huge mess! I tell him not to, but he swirls it around every time! He even gets it all close to me and I always tell him to stop but he still doesn't listen!"

M (disgusted and mortified): "He gets pee-pee all over the place?"

J: "Eww, that's gross!! Why are you talking about PEE-PEE??!"

M: "Okay, Mommy doesn't understand, WHAT does he drizzle all over the place?"

J (exasperated): "His CRAYON!"

M: "Oh, do you mean he SCRIBBLES?!!"

J: "Yeah, not drizzles... He SCRIBBLES! I tell him not to, but he just does it every single time."

M: "Oh, okay, well you just concentrate on your paper and let Mrs. Brockman worry about his."

End of our second week... SO happy for a long weekend.

Jack loves his new teacher, Mrs. Brockman. Here is her adorable door all decorated. I am amazed at how quickly she got this classroom together. The inside is awesome.

Eager Kindergartners all lined up outside their new classroom waiting for an exciting week.

Does every single Mom in this world look at a classroom full of kiddos and feel like hers is the sweetest, cutest, and most gifted of them all?

This ain't yo Momma's Alphabet.

"You down with ABC? Yeah, you know me..."



Can you imagine 22 of these hyperactive little rascals in one classroom? Holy cow.

Is this MY kid or what!?!?

Last week:

"Jack, It is NEVER okay to roll your eyes at an adult. Do you understand?"

"Mom, you NEVER have to get mad at me for that because it is NEVER on purpose. It's just that when I get frustrated, my eyeballs get really loose."

You might be a redneck Mom IF...

... you just checked the ingredients on the Hill Country Fare Dogfood label to make sure your 1-yr-old's "snack" ain't gonna upset his egg allergy.

Happy Happy Birthday, Baby...

Happy 37th birthday, Jeff!

I do not tell you often enough how much I appreciate all that you do for us. I've recently been reminded of how vital you are to this household by having to "cover for you" during the few late nights you have been working.

I admire how you keep your nose to the grindstone in a tough industry during a tough economy. Your confidence that "everything is going to be okay" helps keep me calm(ish.)

Thanks for being the driving force behind getting us to church on Sunday, for making sure the car seats are tight and heavy groceries are unloaded, and for changing the baby's dirty diaper before you even have a chance to change out of your work clothes. Thanks for putting up with two dozen charges on the debit card for $1.08 sodas.

Thanks for putting all my flip flops away. I don't always thank you when I see you walking to the closet with six pair at a time because I am sort of embarrassed.

Thank you for NEVER leaving the toilet seat up, NEVER failing to call on your way home, and NEVER fussing when I tell you the baby's shoes don't match his outfit. Thank you for putting the phones back on the chargers for me. Thank you for taking video of the boys when I am not home because you know I don't want to miss anything. Thank you for letting me experiment with hair styles.

Thank you for meeting me at the door whenever you hear me drive up. Thank you for putting up with late-night typing even after the third time I've said, "It's my LAST paragraph." Thank you for watching "The Biggest Loser" with me even though you hate it.

Thank you for checking in Jack and the Epipen into Sunday School each week, for bringing in empty cans and stinky sippie cups from my car, for filling my gas tank, and for stopping at SONIC for me even though we're running late. Thanks for putting my keys on the key hook and the fitted sheets on the boys' beds.

Thanks for coming home after a long day and being willing to grill dinner. Thanks for eating corn and macaroni as your two "vegetables" several times a week. Thanks for taking your lunch to work, splitting meals with me at restaurants, and driving a cash car without a grill in order to allow me to stay home with the boys.

You hate to make a big deal about your birthday, but you ARE a big deal. We've been through some tough times, but you have always believed in us. I thank God for that because I can't imagine my life without you.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Husband.