We walk by faith

If we listen, God is constantly talking to us. I never really understood that before. I used to be convinced that God speaks to us seldom so we needed to be sure to not miss it. Thankfully, though, that is not case. His guidance is persistent and perfect.

I am on the precipice of some major life changes. Being plagued by my "humanness" as my friend Steve says, has done nothing but complicate things for me. I get so caught up in the need to control and time these changes in accordance to my own time frame. My non-God mind, sometimes forgets that mine is not the perfect plan. It is during these times when my Lord whispers in my ear the message to slow down and trust in Him.

I am so thankful for His comforting guidance and the assurance that although I am flawed by my humanness, He is not, and he does not grow weary in His love for me.

Best Friends

I think the greatest gift that I have given my kids is the gift of each other. Emily is 3 1/2 years older than Lou. After almost 3 years, Charlie was born, and 3 1/2 years later came Patch. For 10 years I had babies. I always knew I wanted more than one child but how many and the time span in which they were to be born was something I just never really thought about. I just kinda "knew" when it was time to start trying for another. Thankfully, pregnancy came extremely quick for me. (although some might say too quick in the case of that first one. ahem.)
When we decided to try for a baby after Emily, I prayed she would have a sister. Of course, the visions of two beautiful girls dressed prissily in matching frocks polluted my mind, but my overwhelming desire was to "grow" a best friend for Emily. Tucker was of like mind, although everyone just assumed he wanted a boy. He still talks about how annoyed he was when people used to comment on how disappointed he must be that it was another girl! Emily loved her baby sister from the moment she found out she was on her way. Although they have the occasional sibling squabble, they truly are best friends. They are together most of the time and understand one another like no other.
When we decided to have our fourth, which literally was a split moment decision, I thought how fabulous it would be for Charlie to have what Lou and Em have! The girls loved Charlie, but it was undeniable the bond that they shared as sisters. Could having a brother be just as wonderful to my son? Ironically, we were told very early on in my fourth pregnancy that we were expecting a girl. We were happy, but disappointed Charlie would miss out on having a brother. (surely no more Hearnlets after 4!!) For weeks we referred to the baby growing inside me as Clara, and mentally prepared ourselves for little girl #3. However, during a routine ultrasound it was confirmed that this last little baby was in fact a boy! Our little girl had grown a winkie!!
Charlie and Patch are to each other what Lou and Em are. They understand one another in a way no one else does. They are "bubbies" and they are best friends. They have each other now and will forever.
I know I had no hand in my children's birth order, but I marvel at God's perfection. He gave my children each other in the most perfect ways imaginable. They are better people for having each other and I am so very thankful.

Bitty Baby Growing Up

I was just a baby when Emily was born. Many 20 year olds are mature and wise. I was not one of them. All I knew about babies was what I learned from playing with dolls. But Emily taught me a lot.

In the early years of our marriage, and when Emily was an infant, Tucker was still in college and worked all of the time. My bitty baby and I had to make it on our own. We traveled everywhere together, and I soon was filling our days with play dates, library story times and trips to the park. Everything I did revolved around her and she thanked me by being the easiest and most mild mannered baby in the world.

I spent money we did not have on color coordinated bows and little ruffly socks. She had short curly blond hair that would bounce around her head as she moved and a smile that could draw the attention of strangers from across the room. She very simply was a beautiful child. I loved being her mommy. It was more fun than I could ever imagine it would be.

Because I was such a young mom, I remembered so vividly my childhood. I put all of my focus on duplicating what had been pleasant and avoiding at all costs the things that could cause her hurt. I was determined to be the best mommy ever. I was going to give my bitty baby the best life ever!

Over the years Ems and I have stayed uniquely close. We have always had a very open dialog and I have made it clear to her that no matter what, she will always be my baby and I will always love her. We have made each other angry at times but it never takes long for the offending party to come to the other with an unsolicited apology. She has shared with me that some of her friends had very strained relationships with their parents and that she was so thankful for Tucker and I. Everyone has warned me that once she became a teenager, our happily ever after connection would end, but I was convinced that Emily and I would be different.

Now my bitty baby is 13. Just hearing myself say that puts a knot in my stomach. 13. My little girl with the matching bows and bouncy hair, is suddenly a lean, beautiful independent thinking young woman. She fascinates me. As close as we are, she and I are so very different. She is extremely preppy and smart and organized; none of those qualities have ever been used to describe her mother. Still, she respects me and loves me the way I am, and I... well, I am in utter awe of her.

I know that there will come a time in her life where the apron strings will be cut. She may go away to school or even marry and move to another place one day. (gasp, gasp) The thought breaks my heart, although I know whatever decisions she makes for her self will be well thought out and prayed over; for that I am so thankful.

She is not a bitty baby anymore, but in my heart she always will be. She will always be the tiny little person who taught me how to mother and to give unselfishly. She will always be the first person to show me truly unconditional love. She really is the person who taught me most about myself.

We are still very close, despite the inevitable teenage angst. On occasion she will snuggle with me and we still talk about matters of the heart and mind, but it is becoming clear that she is able to rely on her old momma less. She has a core group of friends who are now her "go to people." Hanging out with mom is now not nearly as fun as it once was, and I hate to admit it, but I have gotten "the look" more than I care to recall. You all know the look in which I speak- the "You have got to be kidding me, you crazy monster from another planet look." Each time she shoots me "the look" I want to say, "but Ems, it's ME, remember?? Your momma, the one who you think knows everything and the person who you would rather be with than anyone else in the whole wide world! Remember??"

Yep, she is growing up, my bitty baby. I really couldn't be more proud of the person she is choosing to become. Oh, my sweet Emily. I am so proud and just a little heartbroken.

Laundry Love

When I was in my last trimester of pregnancy with Patch, I was very sick. It was initially very confusing to the doctors as to what was going on, and as a result I was misdiagnosed and mistreated for nearly a month. The result was several hospital stays and near confinement to my bedroom. I was so very scared for myself as well as for my little unborn baby.

During my illness, even the simplest of tasks felt impossible. I was unable to read a magazine, follow a television show or even take a shower without having Tucker close by. I was a wreck and I just kept getting worse.

Several weeks into my illness, Janet called to see how everything was going. Because she is six hours away and I had not felt well enough to call, she had been completely unaware of what was going on. Tucker filled her in the best he could with the information we had at the time. Anytime she called in the coming weeks, I was too ill to talk and the news was always worse than the time before.

After Patch was born, I received a correct diagnosis immediately by my general practitioner. Within a week or two I was beginning to recover and finally felt well enough to call my dear friend and fill her in on what I had been through the past couple of months. It was a tough conversation to have because the experience had been so painful. She listened as I cried my way from beginning to end., and then she said something that I have held close to my heart since that day. She had spoken of how she knew there was a problem when she had stopped hearing from me and how worried she had been. Then, one day she had a dream. She dreamt that I was sitting on the sofa and she came and dumped a load of freshly laundered towels, straight out of the dryer on me. She said when she awoke, she knew that I was going to be okay, because the feeling of fresh, warm laundry was such a good feeling.

I am not exactly sure why, but that imagery has meant so much to me since the day she shared it with me. It makes me feel loved and nurtured. It is such a simple image, but so comforting. I have called on that image several times in the last three and half years. Anytime I am feeling a little lonely or down or overwhelmed, I imagine my friend smiling at me and covering me with warm, soft laundry, and I can almost smell it in my mind. Instantly I am calmer.

Today, while pulling laundry out of the dryer, I was reminded of Janet and her love. Six hours away, but I felt as though she was in the room with me. And I smiled. I love her and I miss her, but there is always laundry.

My Love is a Fire

I am a moody person. No, really, it's true. Back "in the day" I saw my moodiness as a really cool gateway into the world of everything artistic. I tried to channel all of those youthful feelings of angst into radical enlightenment. That's right, dude, life was way groovy. I could sit in my bed room for days and listen to the same Dead Cd over and over again and feel hypnotized and euphoric. It was a drugless high and I was an addict.


I really do miss those moments of being completely lost in the moment; being able to get so enraptured by something that the rest of the world ceases to exist for a little while. Recognizing how much I sound like a whacked out drug addict at this moment, I digress.

On occasion I still can get in a music fog like I once did, but never anywhere near as heady. It's hard to really have music envelop your heart and soul when at the same time you have someone in one direction yelling to have his bottom wiped while in the other direction a wrestling match over the remote control is underway. All the while the phone is ringing.
"Come here, Uncle John's Band..." yeh, it's good but let's face it- it's not the same.

I'm okay with not be a transcendental hippie anymore. Really, I am. I know there comes a time when actually "dealing" with problems, opposed to brooding over them is a more appropriate response. I can reach truth without hours of monotonous stereo play. It comes in different ways now. But, I still miss those days of endless heartfelt deliberations.

A little over a year ago Tucker and Jim built a fire pit in the backyard. You see, Janet is an absolute fire genius and my kids and I always marvel at how she can make flames come from just about nothing. In fact, I believe I once overheard one of my children telling a friend, "My Aunt Janet breathes fire." Anyway, it was a spur of the moment decision one day, that the men would take some extra brick we had lying around and try and dig out a little pit. That night we had an outdoor fire. It was spectacular!

Over the course of the past year we have used that pit more than I think anyone expected. When we have something to celebrate- let's drink beer around the fire, company in town- we should have a fire, day off from school- let's roast marshmallows by the fire...and so it goes.

I have come to realize that that impromptu fire pit has become an outlet for me much in the same way that music was all those years ago. I tenderly build a strong base in which to begin the fire, I nurture the flames by adding wood or straw, I blow from underneath the flames to keep the oxygen circulating, and I get extremely defensive and protective when anyone steps up to "really get it going." And let me tell you- Everyone seems to think they are experts in fire building. Everyone. Usually I quietly take a backseat until they reduce my fire to a pile of smoldering logs, and then I gladly reclaim my position as fire monitor.

I can sit by the fire for hours. And I mean hours. I could do nothing all day, but tend to the fire and watch as the flames dance in the air. I inhale deeply as I breathe in the smokey outside air, convinced that somehow I am breathing in rejuvenating magic. And I sit, and I sit, and I sit. If there is someone out there for me to talk to, I will. And usually the conversations are honest and open and important, as if that is all that can exist around my sacred place. If I am alone, then I am happy alone; out there just me and the fire.

I can't believe of all things in my life that would bring me to a place of peace and reflection that makeshift pit in the yard would be the one. But it has.
And I am so very thankful.

The kids have been back in school for a month now and tomorrow is Labor Day. Although the official end to summer is still a couple of weeks away, the summer "as we know it" has come to an end.
Due to the recession's unwelcome presence in our life, this is the first summer in a long time where we vacationed solely at home. Both Tucker and I commented on how much we enjoyed ourselves despite the lack of out of town plans and our busy work schedules. We really made an effort to hang out a lot as a family at the pool and in the yard with the occasional weenie/marshmallow roast. We learned this summer, that vacationing is not about packing a suitcase and traveling by car or plane. We were able to channel that vacationing spirit at home with each other, being silly and cheering each other on.

B.O.B. (I just love that Bob!)

Life is tough stuff. Get up in the morning feeling like you didn't sleep only to realize that you're already running late. Turn the shower on and let the water heat up while waking up the youngins. Youngin #1: "Ahhhh, No!" Youngin #2: "I can't get up, I don't feel well." Youngin #3: "I tink I had an askadent, mommy..." Youngin #4: " Go Away!!!
Ok. Lovely. Get those creatures up and somewhat moving and return to the shower where
you hope to enjoy some momentary silence. Crap! The razor is in the cabinet! Exit the shower, sopping wet, (towel is still in the linen closet)track water to cabinet and grab razor. Head back to shower. Resume shower. Cut ankle shaving.
It's 7 a.m.
Life is tough stuff.
Sometimes I feel like one of those lab rats scurrying through the maze to find the cheese. I keep running into things and getting turned around. I finally see the beloved cheesy prize clear in the distance and as I head towards it, some pretty, skinny, little yuppie mouse strolls from around the corner and snatches my reward. Nice. Back to the rat race.
So the Big Guy in charge, and by that I'm referring to God not Tucker, must have seen me banging into walls, because he has offered me a little "out" from the maze.
A couple of times a month, myself and some other ladies get together for a night of beer, friendship and giggles. We go to a local restaurant that has a bazillion types of beer, and as we sample, we laugh and get deep and laugh and eat, drink and laugh. This fellowship has been instrumental in helping me realize that perhaps life is not a rat race. It is a test and a challenge, but God gives us the tools we need to make it through.
So our little group has come to be known as B.O.B; that is Bonding over Beer. None of us have been friends very long but we have come together earnestly to support one another and relax. There is something so comforting in knowing that I am not alone in the craziness of motherhood, and that no matter how extreme a story I have to tell, there is usually someone who can top it.
So, tonight I am going to hang out with good 'ol Bob. It hasn't been too long but I sure did miss him!
Cheers!

Traffic Jam Ponderings

I was on my way to work this morning and got stopped behind a car with a lone bumper sticker. The sticker read: God doesn't believe in atheists.Because I knew this would linger in my mind, I strained to see the verse that was apparently referenced. Romans 1:20. Hmm...
Although I was raised in a church-going family, it has been fairly recent since I have come to know the fundamentals behind Christianity. The love of Christ in my life is overwhelming, and when I question everything else, the one constant is knowing that Christ loves us more than can be imagined.
"God doesn't believe in atheists." This is what I know: 1)Atheists are people who do not believe in the existence of God. 2)God wants us to glorify His name and spread the Good News. 3) We are ALL God's children.
In my heart, I felt at odds with the sticker. An atheist's lack of faith in God does not equal God's lack of love in an atheist...does it???
So I immediately looked up the Bible verse on my Blackberry to see what basis the sticker claims to make such a biting statement. This is what I found:

New Living Translation (©2007)
For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God.

Okay.

All people have evidence of God right in front of them. The problem, in my mind, is that we live in a society where waking up to blue skies and remarkable anatomies is not enough. People feel that the presence of sadness negates the possibility of God; that a "miracle" is needed for proof. I understand these feelings. I had them for a long time. But the miracles happen everyday- ALL DAY LONG. The Bible says this is proof enough that God exists, therefore it is impossible for one to accurately say "they don't know God." And if we know God, we must glorify His name.

So, let's go back to that darn sticker that started this all. "God doesn't believe in atheists." I find this fundamental flaw. God believes in ALL of his children- bad or good. He loves us and we were created in His image. Just as a mother worries about her wayward child and prays for a safe resolution in his life, so does God for us. Christ asked His Father in heaven to forgive the very non-believers who crucified Him. He loves us despite our failings.

I pray for the atheists, not because I think that God is not in their lives, but because THEY DON'T KNOW IT! But I know, just as a mother would never turn her back on her child, our Savior will forever love all of His children.


I am obviously no learned theologian, and I can not even claim to know for sure the "accepted" explanation for such a claim as the one the sticker makes, but this makes as much sense to me as breathing air.

Friends Forever

I'm super duper lucky. I actually can "grow" my own friends. What a cool trick, huh?
Today Emily came home from school feeling just horrible. After two solid weeks of sick kids, I knew I couldn't risk not having her looked at so we called to see if she could be seen. To my surprise, they told us to come in at 7pm. Our amazing pediatricians office was offering extended hours because there had been so many sick kids!
After a long day, she and I headed back out to see what was going on. On the way there we talked about how her heart has grown since going through the confirmation process at church and how cool it was that we could now share shoes. She told me how some of the kids at school are really starting to create serious trouble for themselves, and I shared how shocked I was when I was her age and saw the same thing happen with kids I had known from an early age. When we finally got to the office we sat and we talked, laughing the entire time about nothing and everything. And once in the examining room, we talked and we talked and we talked some more. Even though we were there because she was sick, it almost felt like a special one on one girls night out!
After her appointment we ate dinner in the car while we were waiting for her prescription to be filled. The entire night should have been a chore for both of us really, but it was such a blessing.
Emily is still a kid and I need to remember that sometimes, but every day she is becoming more and more grown. Not only do I love her as my baby, but I am beginning to really appreciate her as a friend. Although she is very much her own person, she also possesses qualities of both Tucker and I which of course I am very much compatible with. It is just really cool to think that out of the love Tucker and I have for each other came this sweet, special person who is fast becoming one of my most respected friends.
There is a well known cliche that says that we pick our friends not our family. How special is it when we choose to have our family BE our friends!

Top Ironies of the Week

1. We are actually way FURTHER behind on things that have to be done after being off work for a week.

2. I am looking forward to returning to work so that I can rest a little.

3. My dogs are currently the healthiest members of the household.

4. The two children I took to the doctor this morning, are now sicker than they were when they were seen.

5. Every year around tax refund time, something catastrophic falls into disrepair around the house. This year the air conditioner died before the ink dried on our balance statement. I'm wondering if this is what is referred to as a "Government Stimulus Package." I have been secretly looking out the window for little men in dark coats and black sunglasses trying to damage my property.

6. My husband, who rejected youth in favor of acting "wise beyond his years," has now decided to grow his curly hair out so he will more closely resemble his two year old son.

7. My daughter received some misguided information that Tina Fey was actually a political factor in the past Presidential election. As I explained to her Tina's real role, I felt an odd sense of pride that perhaps her spoofs did turn things in Obama's favor.

8. In a news story on the Today Show this morning, it was revealed that people who get enough rest are less likely to gain superfluous weight. Dude, I could be killing two birds with one stone. Sign me up.

9. The fact that all the kids have been sick is actually affording Tucker and I more face time with one another.- No Soccer!

10. Despite all the germs, fevers, lack of money, superfluous poundage and all of the political tensions existing in the world, (read:Don't defriend me and I won't defriend you) I am so very thankful for my life and am pretty happy with the way things are.

Emily in Epworth

Emily went on a three day trip with her confirmation class to Epworth by the Sea (St. Simons Island) this weekend. She came home last night and other than being exhausted, I could tell she was very much touched by what she experienced.
When I decided to join the Methodist church, Tucker and I spent a long time discussing how we should proceed as a family. He is still very happy with Catholicism and together, we had to decide where our children's home church would be. After much discussion, we came to the mutual conclusion that right now the Methodist church where I attend has better programming for the kids than the Catholic church does. Emily, who had not had positive religious education experiences in the past was very wary to be put into a whole new situation. I prayed that she would find a welcoming and loving place where she could learn about Jesus as I had.
As it turns out, the Youth Pastor, and consequently Emily's Sunday School teacher is an old high school buddy of Tucker's. That was just another sign to us that she would be taken care of. In the past months, Emily has opened up a lot about what she has learned about Jesus and being a better Christian. She has developed a strong admiration for her Youth Pastor as well as her fellow confirmands. This whole experience for her has been nothing but completely positive.
I knew she was in good hands when she left on Friday, but I was still nervous to let her go. She called me each night that she was gone and I could tell she was having a great time. Last night when she got home, she showed me the zillion of pictures she took and talked non stop for about three hours until she finally completely crashed. Other than the typical silly 12 year old antics that were inevitable to happen, she really grew closer to the Lord. I am so proud of her and so thankful she had this opportunity.
One of the hardest things about being a mom is that you never get a report card. We never have those quarterly evaluations where we get called into some big office where we are told how we are doing in our jobs as mothers. Sometimes the only thing we can do is pray that we are making the right decisions as far as are kids are concerned. Listening to Em talk about how her heart had grown in Christ this weekend felt tantamount to a big thumbs up from the Boss. It is so nice to have this confirmation (with no pun intended) that we made the right choice for her.

Tinkle...uhh, no thanks...I'm good...

I have never fancied myself a "dog person." I grew up with cats and I really relate to their laid back lifestyles. Tucker on the other hand always had a houseful of dogs running around. People are generally one or the other; cat people or dog people- so I thought.
Before Godiva died, I was convinced that when she and Arthur went to the great Puppy Heaven in the Sky, I would NEVER have dogs again. I loved them but they were high-strung, high-energy smelly creatures. I was looking forward to the peaceful relaxing life of kitty calmness.
When Godiva died so suddenly everything in my heart changed. It wasn't any longer about the chaos, it was about the loss of a friend- for my children, for Arthur AND for me. Suddenly, I went into overdrive to protect the dog we had left. Arthur got brushed every night, began wearing cute sweaters, and was constantly in my lap. His depression over the loss of Godiva was so obvious and disheartening. He no longer wanted to play or eat. Arthur was dying before my eyes. He could not go on without his best friend. My heart was breaking.
I began to question whether Arthur needed a new friend to help ease his pain. Tucker, who is the consummate dog lover, assured me Arthur would be fine, and in time he would recover from the shock of Diva's loss. Time went on and his depression only seemed to intensify, until one day my father in law brought his brand new puppy over for a visit. Arthur perked up and immediately began to "mother" the new baby. I'm sure at that time Tucker knew he had lost the new dog battle with me, but I continued to play the "let's wait and see game."
I began researching on-line various pet rescues in the area. I looked quite extensively at the local Humane Society's page. I knew I wanted another small dog for Arthur, but the only one I really saw was a funny looking white scruffy thing with dark black circles for eyes. Her name was "Tinkle." Not a good omen for house breaking. I emailed the office of the Humane Society asking to be on the look out for a compatible friend for Arthur and decided to back off. The next day I got a call from a woman at the office saying she had quite possibly a very good match for my boy; a little white poodle named...wait for it, wait for it...TINKLE!! Oye vey!
Despite my misgivings over "Tinkle" I decided to bring in Arthur for a visit to see if Tinkle, or hopefully another dog would be a good match for him.
Arthur was so nervous. By now he had gotten quite skinny and feeble looking. The barks of the other dogs scared him so I ended up holding him. We were put in a room where we could spend some quiet time with "Tinkle." That crazy dog, who was probably part poodle but a whole lot of who knows what, was shaved almost completely bare, had a hairless curly rat tail, and kept peeing on the floor in front of us. The lady at the shelter explained that when she was found, her hair was so badly matted and overgrown that they had to shave her all the way down. She assured me that in time Tinkle would be beautiful. "Ummmm, yah, ok...whatever. Let's look at some other dogs."
So we walked around and saw some beautiful animals. I was shocked that THESE were shelter animals. They were the kind of animals people pay top dollar for. But I kept having a nagging pull back to that ratty little Tinkle. Damn you, conscience! I watched as she watched out her little window at us. Scratching the glass as if to say, "hey, where are you going? What about me?" uggh. Catholic guilt. It doesn't matter that I left the church, I kept the guilt.
We filled out the paperwork to adopt Tinkle. Consequently, I was told her name had only been Tinkle for the week and half since she had been in the shelter so I was free to change it if I would like. Well, that was certainly something.
I paid an enormous adoption fee, which eventually caused me to be overdrawn. *The first time in my adult life I have bounced a check and it was for TINKLE!!* What the hell!
Fast forward two months. "Lida Rose" (I always wanted a daughter by that name) is so amazing. She and Arthur have healed each other's heartaches. She has brought a wonderful energy into our lives. Her transition has been seamless. And yes, she has grown hair on her naked little rat tail, and no, she does not "tinkle" in the house.
So I guess I am a dog person after all, but I am also a cat person. I am so blessed to have these furry angels in my life. I really believe God or perhaps Godiva, (possibly both) had a hand/paw in placing Lida in our lives. Really, all bets were against her yet here she is. It sure is crazy how little control we have in our own lives!

Snowy Blessings

I am such a homebody. I could be perfectly happy to stay in my cozy, little world for the rest of my days without ever venturing beyond the outer limits. But with the entirety of my family being outside of my immediate area, travel is necessary from time to time. Because the school system is so graciously furloughing my husbands work days, we had a block of days off in mid-February that we used to travel to North Carolina to see my family. (Well, really my nieces, but the rest of the family too!)
Imagine our surprised when we were blessed with a beautiful snow fall!! Not only did the kids get to enjoy rarely seen snow, but they were able to do so in the company of their cousins!! The 6 kids looked out the window Friday night as the snow fell, anxiously waiting for their time in the white stuff. When the morning finally came around my sister, Beth, had to scrounge around the house for enough boots, mittens and the like for all of the children. (as well as her ill-prepared sister!!)
Together the six kids made snow angels, and ran around in a flurry of activity. In quieter moments they all sampled the deliciousness of the cold treat.
Snow for a child, in any circumstance, is such a blessing and whirlwind of excitement, but for "the cousins" it was made doubly so, because they were able to enjoy it together. It really went along way to remove the sting of traveling for me!

Happy New Year!!

After an wonderful Christmas break, (the best I can ever remember, actually)Tucker and I were looking forward to celebrating New Year's Eve with the kids in our traditional Hearn way.-- snacks and tv until the "moment of truth," then kisses for everyone and bed.
Last night, the mere thought of the kids being able to stay up until midnight gave them more than excitement than they could handle. Being able to eat snacks in the play room really pushed them into high gear!! While Tucker and I enjoyed 30 Rock reruns in the den, our 4 babies alternated between watching Teen Disney and playing in the playroom. At one point, my darling husband suggested we all play a board game together. Everyone readily agreed, but the game was short lived as every one's excitement and distraction got the better of them. (Secretly, I was a little overjoyed when the kids decided they'd rather go back and hang out in the playroom, and I got Tucker all to myself again!!) Poor, little Patch made it until about 10 before his baby timer was up. He wanted so much to stay up like the big kids, but he just couldn't make it and was just miserable trying. When I was carrying him back to his bed, he kept trying to demand that "Bubby" (aka Charlie) was a baby too, and thus needed to go to bed as well. Thankfully his new Spider Man sheets were on his bed, and he snuggled right in when he saw them.
As always, Tucker and I held each other as Dick Clark counted down to the New Year and kissed each other on the first moment of the New Year. We then went into the playroom and kissed the babies who remained awake, all of whom looked more than ready to go to bed themselves!!
Getting ready for bed, I was overwhelmed with all of the possibilities that await my family and I in the New Year. I can't begin to imagine what God has in store for us, but I know it is magnificent, as everything that He ever has a hand is! So, although I do not believe in New Year's Resolutions per se, (I think one should ALWAYS be willing to resolve to make their lives better no matter what time of year) I do pray that I am able to see the Lord in more of the details of my every day life and that I can share Him with others. I know that 2010, as every other year has been, is going to be a tremendous gift filled with unexpected blessings.

Our Diva

After Tucker and I made the "decision" to start a family so young, we were determined to give our child (just Emily at the time) as perfect and as normal a life as possible. We were determined to be the perfect family.
Tucker grew up with dogs. Lots of dogs. His parents were quintessential dog people, and he inherited that trait from them. Although I had a dog growing up, she died when I was young, and most of my "pet experience" was from cats. When Emily turned a year old, we decided it was time to find a furry friend to add to the family. We went over and over which kind of animal to get. In the end, we decided on a Chocolate Lab puppy because my mother's good friend had just bred her dog.
The Martins lived in a small town a little under an hour from our home. We packed Emily up, and away we drove to meet our new baby. They lived in a little ranch house on sprawling land. As we drove up, their German Shepherd came to greet us. Ms. Martin had set up an area in the yard surrounded by a large plastic baby gate. She went into her house and brought out two by two, little chocolate bundles of fur and placed them in the cordoned off area. She wanted us to be able to see all of the puppies and get a feel for which one belonged with us. I remember Tucker getting inside that little pen, and the puppies swarming all over him (with some even hanging onto his pant legs by their teeth!). In my mind I was thinking how different this would be from the cats I was used to, but seeing the look of joy in Tucker's eyes made me sure everything would be fine. The decision was ours to make. Which puppy would come home with us. They all were so similar yet different at the same time. The choice was so very overwhelming. Finally we decided on the pudgy, sleepy guy (or girl, as it was) in the back. She seemed a lot more laid back than her siblings, and she had kinda of a ho-hum Eeyore quality about her that appealed to us.
We named her Godiva, as in the high quality chocolate, but everyone who knew her called her Diva. (long i, not to be confused with Deeeva, as in spoiled pop princess)
It was hard getting used to raising a puppy those first few weeks, but it wasn't long before I felt as though we had had her forever. She was the consummate best friend to baby Emily, who had grown quite fond of riding her and resting her head on her during naps. Diva grew like a weed that first year but remained as gentle and as loving as the very first day.
She was a great pet and a great friend to my kids. I never had to worry about their safety when they were with her. She was so strong and so beautiful. Everyone who knew her, including my mother who is NOT a dog person, loved her and recognized how truly special she was.
We lost Godiva last week very unexpectedly almost eleven years after we got her. The vet said she seemed in perfect health, although given her "geriatric age" a heart attack was very likely. Our sweet Diva died in her daddy's arms on her way to the hospital. She died peacefully and with people who loved her; just as she lived.
Life is not the same without her, and everyone misses her terribly. It is hard to see other Labs and not feel a knot form in our chests.
I know how blessed we were to have her be part of our lives, and I know her legacy will live on in our children whom she taught to love animals.

Unknown Blessings (Mark's Shout Out)

Before the Thanksgiving break I led the chapel lesson for the entire preschool. I really don't know what, if anything the kids got out of my lesson, but as I was preparing it, something really struck me. We all need to be thankful to God for the obvious, such as the trees and the sun and our families, etc. Those are givens and most people readily acknowledge God's part in them. But what I learned is that there is so much more that we need to be thankful for, that we don't even know about yet, or perhaps never will. These unknowns in our lives, are huge blessings we are unaware of, but somehow God has orchestrated them that way as a means of taking care of us. For instance, there are amazing functions of our body that keep our health on track, even though we are blissfully unaware that they are even going on. The earth's rotation--what a blessing!! What if one day it stopped?! We should always thank God for the blessings in our lives that we don't see on a regular basis.
Tucker and I share a good friend named Mark. We all became acquainted years ago when I taught his children and became friends with his wife. Mark is the typical 30 something father of three. He plays with the kids out in the yard, is always doing some home improvement project and enjoys a good beer with friends from time to time. He is the kind of person who you feel like you have known for years the very first time you meet him. He's just an all around good guy.
Mark is one of those blessings that too many people are unaware of.
He is an Army Ranger. Since Tucker and I have known him, he has been deployed TEN TIMES to the Middle East! 10! He puts himself in unthinkable circumstances so that people who are completely unaware of his service, can have a better life. He has never made a big production of the fact that this is his "job," it just is the way that it is.
This is a man with three young children and a wife who is also his best friend, and he constantly steps up to the plate for all of us. It really is kinda amazing.
I know that the world is made of up all kinds of people. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and we all have things that we can offer to the world. What an enormous blessing it is, that there are people like Mark in our world who are willing to make their life's work protecting others! We are always reminded to "support our troops," but I really think it is important to remember that that is not an ambiguous notion. These "troops" are the men and women mowing their lawns on Sunday afternoons, and running behind their child's bike as they learn to ride. They are so normal yet so extraordinary.
Their are hundreds of thousands of these men and women in our country. They all have a life outside of the military. They all have people they love and places they would rather be when it is time to deploy. But they make the same decision to go and be an unknown blessing to millions of us at unknown risks to themselves. God has given these people the courage to put themselves behind their duty. We must remember to be thankful for each one of these unknown blessings.

My Sweet Tucker

I met Tucker another lifetime ago. Neither of us much resemble the people we were back then. If you could have searched the campus for two people who had the least amount in common, chances are you would have picked us. But, like some crazy magnetic force, we kept ending up together over and over again.
I was a party girl in those days. He was an overly serious 60 year old man trapped in a teenager's body. We both needed someone, and we were there for each other. I was convinced he was going to be my best friend for life but never anything more. He knew we would spend the rest of our lives together. I was in a serious accident the summer after we met, and from then on, I knew he was right. We belonged together. And from then on we have been; always together.
Tucker and I grew up together. We were mere babes when we married and neither one of us knew a thing. We had nothing, but we had each other. (and when there is nothing else, that is an awful lot)
I wish I can say the past 13 years have been one blessing after another, but that wouldn't be true. There has been a tremendous amount of heartache and regret. There were times when my words and actions devastated the man I love, and times when he acted like a stranger to me. Those moments were so very hard. Where do you go from there? As hard as those hurdles were they were so very necessary. One of the lessons of our Fireproof class was that the deeper one's marriage falls, the higher the possibility for it to be redeemed. I believe this is true with all of my heart. Had our struggles not been as fierce as they were, I'm sure our reward would never has been so wonderful.
Today I feel like Tucker has always been a part of me. We can flash each other a look and instantly know what the other is saying. There is a commonality we share between us, that could never be duplicated by anyone else. I spent the afternoon with him today, and I felt just like I did when I was 18 years old and holding his hand for the very first time. "Look at this wonderful guy I am with! Aren't I the luckiest girl in the world!" And he still makes me feel like that cute, little 18 year old!
God is not promising us easy marriages. He doesn't say that as long as you remain the same 2 people you were when you got married then all will be fine. You can not possibly grow without changing. The person you were the day you got married had not been subjected to the life experiences that came following your wedding day. People change. Those changes can be hard and so scary. You have to love your marriage and your God enough to love your spouse even when it feels impossible.
The many metamorphoses that Tucker and I have gone through in our marriage have not been easy in the least but with all my heart I thank the Lord that we went through them; that we loved God enough not to bail when it felt like the thing to do. I am so thankful for the husband I have, who I love more every moment of every day, all the while knowing that tough roads still await. I pray that God continues to bless us with His strength so that we can see each other through whatever comes our way.

Thank God

We were lucky enough to host the Connors again this year for Thanksgiving. It has become quite a nice tradition between the two families. The kids have literally grown up with one another so the relationships among all of them are very easy going. Every year these few days prove to be fun and relaxing for everyone.
It really is something how the Lord works. We say it all of the time, but when you slow WAY down to think about it, it really is just amazing. Janet and I really became "friends by accident." I'm sure when we met neither of us would have expected traveling hours to share Thanksgiving together, but... We are all very different people, but we honor those differences in one another and have developed close bonds because of it. Janet, to me, has become somewhat of a lighthouse. When I feel lost at sea, she has a way of bringing me back. Most of the time, I am sure she doesn't even know it.
So here is where the Lord comes in. It has been a very hard few months. There have been a lot of constant, little stresses. Just when I felt like I was getting my head above water, a wave would come and knock me back down. By the time the Thanksgiving holiday rolled around, I was wiped out. Having my friends visit really was what I needed. It really is funny. I look back on that week and try to gather what it was that really made the difference for me. Of course, not going to work and drinking a lot of beer helped, but it was just the friendship; knowing that I could eat pumpkin pie in pajamas for breakfast and that my friend would be doing the same, being able to sit in the den and knowing I didn't have to "entertain," watching my children snuggle up to their 'Aunt Janet' and 'Uncle Jimmy,' being able to look at little Sarah and Nate and still remember the moments I found out their momma was carrying them, staying up late and playing games...it just goes on. 13 years ago the Lord knew that these two families were going to be important for each other. He put us in each other's path so we could enrich our lives. It is so nice to realize that even though we may not have a clue what we are doing in our own lives, He is guiding us. He is sending us what we need to get through each day. It may come in the form of friends. It may come in the form of health. It may come in the form of wisdom. But he is looking after us, and making sure we are taken care of. I think, that that is what I am most thankful for this holiday season.

The "New" Me

Tomorrow I am going to a meeting at the church where I have been worshipping. During this meeting, I will learn more about Methodism and the church and begin to make the decision on whether or not I will officially "join the church."
This is such a huge deal for me. I grew up Catholic. Everyone in my family is Catholic and Catholicism is a really big part of my history. I married a devout Catholic and baptized my four children in the Catholic church. But for a long time I have felt that it is not who I really am. Over the past several years I have gradually felt more and more lost within the Catholic church. Although the familiarity was comforting, I was feeling more and more isolated. I prayed that the Holy Spirit would enter my heart and show me what to do. I kept waiting and waiting.
Tucker and I went through a major adjustment period about a year ago. It was a time where we both had to take a serious look at who we were, and who we wanted to be. Hiding behind what was comfortable had to be put aside to find what was authentic. It was during this time that I began attending a non-Catholic church -alone. My life began to change. My marriage began to change. Most importantly my heart began to change. This was the work of the Holy Spirit. This was the answer to my prayers.
Although, me attending this new church meant a division on Sunday mornings at my house. Tucker and some of the kids would go to one church and I and the rest of the kids would go to another. It was not an easy choice, but it was without a doubt the right choice.
I have taken this past year slowly. I have not denounced my Catholic roots (nor will I ever). I have not claimed to be Methodist. I have just begun to build my heart back up, and learn to truly love the Lord once again. I am at the point now, where I think I am ready to take the next step and fully embrace my new spiritual home.
I thank God for so much. I thank Him for giving me an understanding and supportive husband. I thank Him for giving me the courage to branch away from what was "easy." But most of all I thank Him for making His presence so available and abundant; to allow me to learn and love in a way I never thought I could; and to carry me when I was to weary too try and find my way by myself. I really think I am on the right track now. I am excited to meet the new me.

My Patchy

My baby is almost two.
After having 4 kids, I can finally say that I will never have another. After each prior child, I never felt certain whether or not it would be my last. But we know now, without a doubt, Patch is the last.
I love being a mom, and I have great kids. I remember how I found out I was pregnant with each one of them. I remember the circumstances in which Tucker and I came up with their names. I remember all of the details of each of my pregnancies as if they have just occurred. I can retell my labor and delivery stories over and over and over again. Although, I often didn't feel well, being pregnant and having my babies has been among the most fulfilling things I have ever done.
That book is closed. No more pregnancy tests stashed in the back of the bathroom closet. I can pack up the mountains of pregnancy and baby name books we have acquired in the 10 years it took us to create our family. I will never again have use for those itsy-bitsy onesies, that look so tiny until your baby is born and then are just swimming on him.
I was watching Patch today. He really is phasing out of babyhood. He wants so much to be big like his siblings, it seems he is intentionally speeding up the maturing process! He talks as if he is the authority, and I really need to remind myself that he is only a baby! But baby no more. My little guy is growing up. And as he grows up, so must I. I am no longer that "young mom" who is just starting her family. That phase of MY life is over. Did I subconsciously enjoy that phase so much that I kept it going by procreating? Geez, I hope not!!
Regardless of how old my baby is he will ALWAYS be my baby. (As all of my children will be) Though the realization of him growing up is bittersweet, I am equally as excited to see what is in store for him. His future is limitless, and I believe he has the personality that will seize every moment.
I just don't even know how to end this. Excited for the possibilities that await my littlest one, or melancholy over the end of an era? (gulp) I just really don't know. I think maybe it just doesn't have to end...