Like Father Like Son(s)

If you had asked me 24 years ago what ONE thing I would want my boys to learn during their childhood from their father, I would probably say loyalty.

No, commitment.

Wait, integrity.

Hang on - dedication.

Ah hell... I suppose I wouldn't have been able to sum it up in one word.  Maybe it would have taken a paragraph.  That is how I speak, as you know.  One word responses are not really my style.

I witnessed little guy display them all last night.  I was beaming with pride.  Let's be honest - it's not everyday that our 12 year old kiddos excel.  Oh sure, each of us have the smartest, cutest, most perfect children in the world (until our front door closes).

Our football season has been a tough one.  Once again we have found ourselves improperly placed in the wrong division (for whatever reason).  Basically... we are playing up.  It shows.  We have had some really rough games.  Little guy not only looks like a football player this year, he could easily fit in with the Jax and the MC if only he knew how to ride a Harley.

We are facing massive adversity.  We have many players on IR.  We barely have enough left to get on the field.  We are facing our largest competitor (meaning they have beaten us by the most points this season).  It's fairly safe to say we will most likely go down... by a lot.

A question was posed to the team:  should we play?  I admit I was hot immediately.  Never have my boys been allowed to quit anything.

And no, my dear naysayers, that has nothing to do with MY pride.  It has everything to do with my childhood.  I was allowed to start and quit everything, mostly because my parents really didn't want to take the time to take me anywhere for "activities".  Childhood was meant to be played outside, not at sanctioned events.  I suppose it was because I was the last child over a long parenting span.  Or maybe they were just super tired.  I'll never really know at this point.

I vowed when I had children I would not ever push them, nor would I allow them to quit.  I wanted them to develop their own desires, their own sense of pride, their own accountability and dedication.

Stage Left - Mr. Davis.

I had no idea how my boys would learn any of those words listed at the top of my page, quite frankly.  My Scorpion ways lean me to be fiercely loyal and protective but I'm not totally convinced I could teach the level of commitment and dedication I wanted my boys to grow up with to become MEN.

I became a spectator and quickly learned how they were going to get it.  Hubs dedicated tireless hours to Bubba and little guy's activities.  He showed them commitment by being by their side at every practice and every game.  They discussed every night over dinner not only how to improve but how to celebrate successes.  They did it together, step in step.  He listened to them, gave them respect and in turn, taught them to appreciate and grow their love for their sports.

And then it happened.  One day, they woke up and it seemed to click.  Both of my boys have amazing loyalty.  They illustrate great sense of team.  They display commitment without flaw.  And they both have an incredible sense of what is right, not for themselves, but for the teams they support.

That is probably why Bubba is in the military.  Although he wouldn't define it that way necessarily, he is incredibly loyal.  Loyal to his country.  Committed completely to his wife.  Dedicated to his team.

And little guy?  Faced with possibly not finishing his season, he gave us one simple answer.

"We finish our season mom because we can't quit.  We may lose by 50 but at least we will know we tried.  I will never, ever quit on my team."

As always, I will pray before his game Saturday.  Pray he is safe.  Pray his teammates are safe.  Pray the coaches lead the boys as best as they can.  Pray they have fun and feel good when they walk off the field, regardless of the scoreboard.

He knows the risk.  He has buckled that chin strap for 6 years knowing that every snap is potential harm.  180 lbs of young men hit him every single down of a game that he plays.  Especially now knowing that he may be playing new positions on the field for our final games, he knows that even if he makes mistakes he wants to give it his all.

I couldn't ask for more.

One last thing though - thank God my boys learned modesty from their father as well.  I would be screaming from the rooftops if my boy's successes had been my own (mostly because I was not nearly as self secure as they are).  But not my boys.  They are selfless in their endeavors.  They celebrate as a TEAM, not as an individual.

That has to be what I love about them the most.

Final week of football.  Seems to be the longest season of little guy's life but now that it is coming to an end, it's bittersweet.  He does love it so.

Have a great Tuesday, friends.

Jen

Celebrating Bubba's Birth!

It was a beautiful fall Friday night.  Visiting close friends to watch a race on television, I felt the first twinge of many I would endure that night.  I was young, scared and full of anticipation.

A few short hours later, we were surrounded by friends and family anxious to meet you.  Little did we know you were in absolutely no hurry.  

As I look into the eyes of the man you have become I see that baby placed in my arms 24 years ago.  The images of that moment are burned into my soul and will never be forgotten.  Your big beautiful (then) blue eyes, your long toes (I had no idea how long they were actually going to be!) and your perfectly laid back nature were my absolute favorite things about you those first few moments together.

On this day, I reminisce those first moments clearly.  I can still smell your sweet baby scent, feel your soft skin against mine and hear those faint sounds of communication that became the intimacy of our unshakable bond today.

I spent much of my motherhood attempting to teach you how to maneuver this world.  But Son, I had absolutely no idea what I was about to learn from YOU.

I am so blessed and grateful to have met you.  You are an inspiration to me every single day.  Momma loves.

Happy 24th birthday, Jeremy.  You are my HERO!

Momma

Another 4th Come and Gone...

I prepared myself to be a little bit jaded this Independence Day.  I'm still 1,600 miles away from my west coast kids which makes me sad.  Especially since I spent last holiday with Sassy and Nugget loving all over them.  Here are my fave pics of last year:

Oh, and Hubs had to work.

We started our holiday at the local community fireworks blast (and about an hour of rain).  Little Guy and I decided to shake it off - we played in the rain rather than complain about it.  After filling our bellies we climbed into the back of Hubs' truck and watched the show.  Although a breezy 63 degrees, it was wonderful.

The 4th brought a day of swimming, sun and fun with my BFFs fam.  Since she absolutely LOVES when I'm sentimental, here goes:  I LOVE THAT FAMILY!!  Not in a "aren't they cool to hang out with" kind of way either.  I completely, 100% love all of them.  They are fantastic.  Self professed "sisters", BFF and I have been together officially just over 20 years.  We have been through everything together:  marriages, divorces, births, deaths and every life event in between.  I can be myself completely with them, in times of vulnerability they are a constant support of me.  And in times of joy, I only have to look over my shoulder to see them there.  They are my true family and I am completely blessed to have each of them.  They show my family true unconditional love which only strengthens my belief in the fact that although we can't chose our family, we can certainly create one.

The last two decades seem to have flown by.  Our kids are older now - mine with a family of his own and hers driving and considering colleges.  Our little ones are still friends and enjoy each other's company.  Our husband's may not have chosen each other as friends originally in their lives but they like one another just like brothers in law would do.

I took the little ones (hee hee... I know they aren't so little but I can't help myself) to a concert Friday night.  Watching the two of them be themselves even though they are so different told me they too have embraced being family.  I cannot believe these are the same two children:

Hubs and I trekked down to our local farmer's market Saturday morning and hit the jackpot.  Fresh fruit and veggies galore.  We absolutely love this part of summer.  It holds the promise for me when we have our own little piece of earth we can sustain our lives with fresh grown food.  

We wrapped up our weekend attempting to camp outside.  Hubs and I absolutely loved camping in our 20's, often dragging Bubba to rivers to canoe, cook out and sleep under the stars.  Little did I remember that sleeping on the ground is HARD.  20 years definitely left some scars on these bodies of ours.  As we watched little guy snooze away, Hubs and I were reminded how much we have changed.  I'm proud to say we made it two hours.  By 2:30 am, we were all snuggled comfortably in our beds.  I definitely see an air mattress in our future if we attempt this away from home.

As I sit quietly this morning, I cannot help but take stock of how blessed I feel.  My family is healthy, we are happy and we are complete.  Whatever life challenges are thrown our direction I know in my heart we have the love and support of our family.  

I wonder if they can help me out with this scorching sunburn I picked up at the pool yesterday.  There isn't enough aloe in the world.

I hope your weekend was filled with fun and love, friends.  The middle of the summer has arrived and in just a few short weeks fall will be upon us.  Take time to soak up the sun, love those around you and don't forget to laugh a little bit!

Happy Sunday, friends!

Jen

Whatta Man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man....

fa·ther

  [fah-ther] 

noun

1.

a male parent.

2.

a father-in-law, stepfather, or adoptive father.

3.

any male ancestor, especially the founder of a race, family, or line; progenitor.

4.

a man who exercises paternal care over other persons; paternal protector or provider: a father to the poor.

5.

a person who has originated or established something: the father of modern psychology; the founding fathers.

If there is one thing that I have learned from Hubs in the over 20 years we've been together, it's this:  being a woman ain't that hard.

Yep girls, I said it.  Click close now if thy offend.

Since the birth age of the women's rights movement, we have blazoned our ways into society with fierce determination.  Women can do it ALL.  We can be that perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect professional, the perfect homemaker.... all we have to do is just do it.  All our options are available to us and we will be treated equally and fairly to men.

Amen!

Well, with all our push to become the superior race, women have unveiled what men have known for centuries.  You want it all, you got it.  And all that comes with it.

Wait.... what comes with it??  I just wanted to make a lot of money and run my house.  I have to take on extra stuff?

Oh yes ma'am you do.

What feminists and activists don't quite understand is the physiology of actually BEING a man.  Sure, we can learn how to mow and weed eat, pay bills, wear suits and pitch to CEO's.  But inherently there is one small thing we have missed in our plight to take over the world.  It might not be as easy as we thought.

Hubs and I married when Bubba was 3.  It was a seriously easy transition for the two of them, mostly because of their easy going natures.  I knew even when I first met Hubs that the two of them would blend together quite well as they seemed to naturally have a lot in common in their personalities and approaches to things.

Hubs and Bubba, circa 1994

What I didn't know then and I do know now is that it takes a man to raise a boy.  Yes, girls with our "do it all by ourselves mantras", you CAN do it all.  But you CAN'T teach a boy to be a man unless you are a man.

Period.

Women instinctively nurture, particularly mothers.  It's our primary job responsibility if you looked at our duties on a job description.  To love and nurture.  Genetically we are designed to do so.

And fathers?  To love and PROTECT.

Women can be bad asses.  We can stick up for our boys verbally when someone is going to hurt them.  We can get a handgun and shoot an intruder (well, some women can).  We can make money and contribute to our families.

But men... they protect.  From the olden days of sitting on their porch with their shotguns, men protect their families.  They don't have to stick up for their boys because they raise them to stand on their own feet.  They guide them to become men who protect their families.  They raise their boys to understand what it means to fight for God, for our country, for their family.  They show them how to make ultimate sacrifices.

Something women would really struggle with, given our nurturing design.

Hey, I'm not saying a woman can't raise a boy without a man.  Sure she can.  What I'm saying is that a boy NEEDS a man - any man - to help him become a man.  To give him the road
map, show him what it means to love something so deeply that you would lay down your life for it.

And that, my friends, is what I have been given.  My husband's one true love is his family.  He would do anything to protect us, anything to keep us safe and ultimately would lay down his life for us if need be.  That is what he has taught my sons - to love and protect their families.

Little guy isn't there yet, but he knows.  He watches Hubs taking care of us.  He hears the words Hubs says to me (be careful today, babe...)  He knows how much Hubs honors Bubba for his service to our country, for becoming an amazing father and protector of his own loved ones.

Hubs and Little Guy, Fathers Day 2006

He taught our boys something I never could have on my own.  Now that my oldest is an adult with a family of his own, I get it.  I see the groundwork that he laid for him.  I get why he taught him what it meant to be true to your word, to live up to your obligations and to be a consistent rock for those that would come to rely on him.

Fathers have an amazing ability to teach their children without even trying very hard.  They show them in their actions, their consistency and their pride in their family.  They :lead their children by example.

I am blessed to have that man in my life, but the true blessing comes to the two men he has created.  And by the way... that didn't happen by accident.  My amazing father in law taught Hubs how to be a man.

Pop, Hubs, Little Guy, Bubba and Nugget, FD 2012.

Happy Fathers Day, friends.  Tell that special man in your life what it means to you to have them today.  Thank them, even if they didn't help you with the dishes today (or yesterday).  And hey, maybe cut them some slack if they forgot to take out the trash.  It happens to the best of us.

Jen

The Best of Days

Creative.  Obedient.  Open minded.  Positive.  Energetic.  A Reader.

These are the words little guy used to describe himself at Take your Kids to Work Day.  He stood in front of the rest of the group, around 18 or so plus adults, and spoke out loud.

Something he wouldn't have done last year.  At least not comfortably.

As a parent starting out, I had a few objectives and very little understanding of the true meaning of the words "flexibility and patience".  I honestly thought that once that precious little baby began to grow older you could mold them into exactly what you wanted them to be... much like my dolls that I had as a kid.  Dress them this way, stand them this way and tell them to act a certain way.  It's that easy, right?

I had no idea they were their own little people, independent of what they were told to be, say or do.  I often battled with my older son, trying to push and prod him into what I thought he "should do, say or be".  I didn't know.  I really didn't know.  But I do now.

Little guy has been given a gift.  With such a significant age difference between the boys I was also given a gift.  The ability to step back, reassess, adjust accordingly and proceed.  Something most parents aren't given as much a chance to do.  Most moms are way more comfortable with the second child simply by experience but I had a great 12 years of learning to get a head start on #2.

What a difference it has made.  I feel in some ways I am a completely different mother to the little guy.  And I'm still constantly learning from Bubba how to transition into a successful adult parental relationship, something that has been incredibly easy for the two of us.  I never take that for granted either - my father and had a very rough transition.  He had a very difficult time seeing his baby (and the last kid) move into adulthood.  Granted it wasn't nearly as graceful as he might have liked but I still grew up nonetheless.

I'm amazed at how much I still learn as a parent.  Bubba teaches me to respect the decisions and man he has become even though I didn't have any influence in them.  He helps me understand fair and healthy boundaries are part of any adult relationship but still comes to me occasionally for advice.  And he gave me the best gifts of all - his own family that I am invited to love and cherish right alongside him.

Little guy?  He teaches me true diversity every single day.  Last night we sat in a packed high school gymnasium (while it was 77 degrees and beautiful outside) and listened to the entire district 5th graders play 3 songs in a band recital.  Yep, 3.  The whole concert was over in an hour but the hour for me was profound.  As I sat in the bleachers listening to the music, I couldn't help but reflect on the young man he is becoming.  Pride swelled in me as I recalled a comment given to me just that morning from a co-worker.  Your son is an exceptional young man.  Wow.  Such a giant compliment.  I was absolutely speechless.

He plays the baritone.  He sings in the choir.  He loves to read and spell.  He loves math and science.  He plays basketball, baseball and football.  He is a willing helper to a good friend in school with special needs.   He loves being an uncle.  He befriends all the kids in the 'hood that are younger and actively engages with them.  He snuggles on the couch with me.  He still wrestles with Hubs and Bubba.  He tells everyone he has a sister, with a giant smile on his face.  He is kind to his grandparents and loves them wholly and completely.

He doesn't try to look cool.  He doesn't care if his clothes match.  He doesn't care where we live as long as we are always together.  He strives for perfection in all things that he attempts, accepts his failures as learning tools and doesn't seem to mind if someone doesn't like him for who he is.

He has a fantastic grasp on the real.

I'm a proud mom.  I make a million mistakes a day and I am real.  I ask for forgiveness and always forgive my kids when they make mistakes, too.  I allow them to be who they are, respect them for that and focus entirely on the best in them.  I allow myself latitude to grow as a mother and improve as I go.

It's truly the most rewarding responsibility I will ever experience.

I'll leave you with one of my fave new songs... I seriously can't get enough of this album.  I listen to the entire thing on repeat every single day.  Although a little bit sad and lonely (like John), the fact that life continues to move onward without our consent always gets me to thinking.  Click below for some melodies :).

Born and Raised (Reprise)

Enjoy and have a good day, friends.

Jen

Happy In Love

Today is an AWESOME day.  Four years ago today, Bubba and Sassy said I DO.  FOUR YEARS!  It was one of the best days ever for our family.

In honor of the kids, I'm sharing today my fave pics from the big event.  Pictures usually tell the story better than words.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY the cutest couple EVER!  Here's to many more to follow!

Love ya,

Momma

Here We Go Again

We're being pounded again by snow.  Ugh.  I wonder how many blog posts I have written about the weather?  Hmmm, research for another day.  Of course you know it's bad when they NAME the storm... Winter Storm Virgil.  Nice.  Thanks, Virgil.

Yeah, in case you were wondering... we are in the purple 8-12" area.  Awesome.

So it's Sunday morning and I'm up alone (well, besides the fur kids).  It's so quiet in the house you could hear a pin drop.  The only thing I can hear in the background is the gentle hum of my fireplace blower (best purchase EVER in my opinion).

I have my coffee to my left, my bills to my right, getting ready to scratch checks.  Okay, not really - pay online... but doesn't sound as cool.  It's almost the end of March and we haven't listed our house yet.

Blah.

Honestly I'm glad we weren't ready.  This winter and spring has just slammed us with more snow than we have had in decades.  I didn't want to manage the open houses with 12 inches of snow.  That just seems like no fun at all.  So we've been waiting.  Waiting for the right moment, waiting for a sign.  Contemplating where, when and how is sometimes a daunting task.

Our number one concern has been making sure our kiddo stays in his elementary school.  It will be his 6th and final year and we can't bear to move outside of the area and possibly not be awarded the coveted "transfer" that we would undoubtedly have to pray to get.  I hear our district can be quite stingy with these transfers and I can't imagine the look on little guy's face if we didn't get it and he lost his last year with his best friends.

Obvious choice?  Stay through enrollment, which is in July.  As soon as the paper is signed for school we could sell and move.  Just gotta have that "proof of residency" electric bill to push us into the safe zone.

What does that mean for me?  Well, more time to paint, repair and get ready, obviously.  But also one more quarter of these finances as well.  

We've waited this long, a few more months won't hurt.

The military signs 6 month leases for their members, specifically to prepare for deploys and reassignments.  With that comes a great opportunity for my kids to move around if desired, checking out different sides of the city and new communities.  The kids like their current home (as do I!) but have wanted to get a little bit closer to Bubba's ship now that they are entrenched in West Coast living and all it has to offer.  It's hard to believe it but their first 6 month lease is up (already!) so for kicks they put in for a transfer in housing to see what would come up.

It was in the cards... the kiddos were given a new place!  It's a LOT closer to the ship, in a thriving community with LOTS of families and has the amenities the kids want.  And a backyard.  A nice, big, fenced backyard!  Nugget is gonna FLIP out!  I see a jungle gym in his very near future... or basketball goal at the very least.

I'm so very happy for them I could cry.  They give me great hope that my move will also be coming shortly.  I just need patience (always) and faith (and patience).

Adding 'Book Flight to SD' to my to-do list is the perfect start to my quiet Sunday morning.  

By the way - the kids are actually HERE.  Right now, as I type.  For a girl that has no patience I have totally proved myself wrong this week and I'm quite proud of it.  They are spending time with Sassy's family for a week before coming to see us.  Yes, 15 minutes away from me and I haven't smothered them yet!  I am quietly, patiently awaiting my turn.  'Cause that's what parents do... they support their kids no matter what.

But I am dying over here.  I've packed this house with more food and snacks than it's ever had.  I bought all new bedding for Nugget hoping he'll feel comfy and want to stay here with us.  Hubs and I scoured the entire second floor yesterday in preparation for them.  I cannot WAIT to have them here - it will be the first time we have been together for this long since we went to the Lake on vacation a zillion moons ago.  Coffee with my son in the morning, long chats with Sassy while the boys play in the evening, snuggles with Nugget watching Lala.  

Oh, and Popsicles for breakfast, if he wants them.  He can have absolutely ANYTHING he wants.  'Cause that's what being a Nana is all about!

Happy Sunday, friends.  I hope if you are in the Midwest you are snuggled in your homes nice and warm and safe.  It's looks pretty nasty out there.  No worries, spring will actually come eventually.  It always does.

Jen

Of COURSE she's my sister!

Back to the Midwest.  Grey skies.  Cold weather.  And one happy, sleepy Nana.

I've returned safely from the West Coast only to find that everything I had left undone is still waiting for me.

Ugh.

Sometimes I wish I could wave a magic wand and have my life organized, tasks completed and nothing but time to plan my true desires.  Wake me up when that happens, please.

I had the best weekend.  I can't stop smiling (in between tears of missing the kids).  Nugget is getting so big and he is changing monumentally at this age.  He has such an amazing personality and of course he is brilliant.  I can already see both of the kids in his gestures, his words and his stubbornness. 

 

 

It must be said that there is nothing... and I mean NOTHING.... better than having your grandchild climb into your lap.  Hold your face.  Say "too" when you tell them you love them.  Wrap their little arms around your neck and squeeze.  Snuggle in to watch Lala. 

Nope.  Nothing.

I love that I am just as completely comfortable with Sassy as I am with Bubba.  Sometimes I blur the lines between which of them is mine.  Because they both are. 

We had the chance to steal some girl time this weekend.  We drove all over in search of fish tacos (shouldn't be hard in Cali, right?) to land at a Mexican restaurant (where we had fish tacos).  After four u-turns, we found a pedicure place.  As we sank into the big leather chairs, she smiled at me. 

She so deserved this.  She works so hard as a mother, a wife, a student, a friend and a daughter.  She is always looking out for others, especially my son.  The least we could do is get a pedicure.

Before the gals started to scrape off our junk, I mentioned to my lady that I was a runner.  All spa places understand that is code for "leave the callouses or I'll cut you".  Okay, I don't mean that really.
Well.... maybe a little bit.

So my lady complied and was gentle with me.  Sassy's?  She didn't get the memo.  I think she thought she was in a deer skinning contest.  This on the sweet girl's feet that never see concrete, are rarely barefoot even inside and in perfectly soft and smooth condition.

With perfectly manicured (and skinless) feet, we sat awaiting our polish of choice.  Sassy's lady looks over at me.

"Are you two sisters?"

God LOVE this woman.  I wanted to kiss her, even though she just skinned my sweet girl.  Then I wanted to say yes.  But I didn't.

"Nope.  Hardly!  I am her mother in law."

My lady pipes up:  "I thought you were best friends.  The way you talk to each other."

Yep, now that I get.  We don't look a thing alike.  I would have had to birth her at 15 for her to be my kid.  But we do tend to laugh and carry on like good friends would.

Because we are.

I tell hubs all the time that we are the luckiest people in the world to have our daughter in law.  She is fantastic.  I try to tell her that often but sometimes in my haste I forget.  She is by far the best thing that could have ever happened to my son.

Along with Nugget, of course.

The best part of new toes?  Nugget chasing us around the house, pointing at our toes.  PINK! (me)  PURPLE! (Kate)  FLESH (those would be Daddy's).

Have a fantastic Tuesday, friends!

Jen
 

What Goes Around, Comes Around

And the countdown continues!  Two weeks from now I'll be busily packing for the west coast and another visit with the kids.  It's hard to believe they have already been gone for almost 5 months (and even harder to believe that it has been 2 1/2 months since I have seen them in person!)

Being a mother is one of the most exciting, rewarding and difficult tasks a woman can achieve.  Born nurturers, we begin our journeys with an overflowing love in our hearts which grows stronger every day (if that is even possible).  We kiss boo boo's, we bathe, we nurse illnesses, we cheer loudly at achievements and we constantly reassure our kids that they are perfect, even when they aren't.

But at the end of the night, we collapse.  We're tired.  Our clothes are often stained, our hair is a mess, we smell like whatever craft we just finished and it's a thankless job.

Until it isn't.

I settled down on the couch one evening at about 9:00 pm.  I was exhausted - it had been a really long day at work.  Bubba had been difficult the week leading up to this night.  A growing 8 year old boy, he was becoming fiercely independent.  He didn't like school much... in particular his 2nd grade teacher.  She wasn't warm and friendly.  She was an older teacher, scheduled for retirement at the close of the school year.  It showed.  She had lost her bubbly excitement for educating.  She was tired.  I get it.  But that didn't make my life any easier.

Bubba struggled with his papers.  It seemed he had them every night.  We spent hours at the dinner table going over his homework, which seemed absurd to me at that age.  He was frustrated.  I was frustrated.  We were both tired of the battle.

So I reached for the phone and I called my momma.  I needed to get a couple of things off my chest and she was a fantastic confidant.  I could be totally vulnerable with her and get rid of all this stress in one call.  When she answered the phone, I launched into a 15 minute rant over my past week's events.  I'm not even sure I let her say hello before I started going off.  I was exhausted.  So much I couldn't even think straight.  She listened intently, quietly interjecting her umm, huh's as if to reassure me she was listening and she agreed.  When I finally took a breath, I let my real words flow.

"Mom... I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for all the times I was difficult for you.  I'm sorry I was pushy, that I disagreed so much.  That I wasn't very nice to you at times.  I hope you will forgive me for being a tough kid.  And more importantly, I want to thank you.  I have no idea how you raised 4 children.  You are an amazing mother, then and now.  I have no idea how I would have made it this far without your love.  I love you, Mom."

I could hear her smiling through the phone.  She wasn't much on all that mushy crap.  She answered matter of factly. 

"You're welcome, Jenny.  It's my job.  You're going to do just fine.  And I think you are a terrific mother.  I promise it gets easier, eventually.  Hang in there."

We wrapped the convo and I set off to bed.  I didn't think about it much after that, other than to giggle sometimes knowing I was getting exactly what I dished out to her.

My phone buzzed with a text last night.  It was a simple line from Bubba:  Mom, call.  I shot a text back:  can't call now, in a meeting.  Call in an hour or so.  All okay?  He responded:  Yep, all okay.

Deep breath.  Sometimes I worry when I can't grab a call or text from the west coast kids.  I want to be there when they need me... every time.

My meeting went into dinner with friends.  As soon as I walked in the door, I remembered to call.

"What's up, Bub?  Is everything okay?"

Within a few words, I was immediately transported back to the call with my mom.  His message was simple.

I just wanted to call and say thanks for being such a great mom.  When I was little and now.  I don't know how you did it, but thank you... and I love you."

Potty training the toddler had pushed his buttons for a couple of days.  Watching his wife's undying patience?  Reminded him all he needed to know.

Mothers are AWESOME.  Everyday.  Endless energy to handle everything that comes up.

"If men were left to have children, Mom.... we would be extinct."

Yes son, you would.

I went to bed smiling, much as I bet my mother did so many years ago.  We had come full circle.  His new found appreciation for what I did for him would never end, as mine never has for my mother.

A triumphant day.  I can't wait to get my arms around that big boy's neck in two weeks.  I'm pretty sure I will squeeze a little bit tighter this go around.

My final words to him last night? 

"Son... don't forget to tell Sassy every single day how much you appreciate her being the mother of your children.  Because she IS awesome... everyday!"

"Yes mom... I will.  I promise."

Perfect achievement.

Have a great Thursday, friends!

Jen

But Who's Counting?

I'm almost there.  I'm almost there.

Last night I while picking up some daily essentials I stopped in the middle of an aisle in Target.  An end cap had caught my eye filled with colorful Valentine's Day merchandise.  An ache filled my heart quickly.

I miss my kids.

I say it all the time.  Every time anyone asks me "How are the kids doing?" I tear up and say the same words.  "They are doing great.. I'm happy for them.  I just miss them."

Yep, all about me still.

To cheer myself, I ran to the V day stuff.  I grabbed up trinkets left and right for my buddy.  My excitement rose as I started doing the math in my head.... 23 days.  23 more days and I will be with the kids.  I can wait 23 more days, surely.  But the real truth is that it will have been 81 days since I saw them last.

81.

That is totally unacceptable.  I must work harder on this.  A lot has happened in the last 81 days... for us and for them.  I talk to the kids still almost every day if not every day and now with the miraculous purchase of the PS3 little guy is talking to Bubba at least once a week, one on one (which I love).  Hubs spent over an hour chatting him up this week.  But still, it's just not enough.  The ache my arms feel from not being able to hug them is indescribable at times.  Especially when we need one another.

I phoned Sassy last night with much excitement to tell her of my findings for nugget.  She answered the telephone groggily.. "um, hello?"  In an instant I knew she was sick.

Sick.  In California.  Far away.  I can't take her soup. I can't take E to the park so she can rest.  I can't get her a warm, soft blankie to snuggle with and watch bad 80's movies while making her tea.  I can't do anything.

And, the ache is back.

It's this little stuff that hurts that most.  Nugget is potty training and she sends me tons of pics (which I completely and utterly love).  I wish I could put reward stars on his chart, cheer him on and give him high fives for his success.

In 23 days, I will.  I will attempt to shower all three of them with all the love and emotion I can conjure.  I will hug them a thousand times in four days.  They will be sick of me and ready for me to leave.

One of my faves with nugget

But my soul bank will be full again until I see them again, which WON'T be in another 81 days this time.

Have a great Thursday, friends.

Jen

Tinsel Teeth UNITE!

Little guy met his rite of passage last week with a two year commitment to his smile.  Yep, the wires and brackets became a permanent part of his face.

He couldn't be more excited.

I forgot as a kid how excited I was when I first got my braces.  They were something cool (well, back then they felt that way).  And since they weren't permanent, it was kinda a no loss no foul dorkness.

Second time around in this fam.

If this doesn't show our stark difference in age gap between the kids I don't know what would!  Jeremy turned 12 the week before Coop was born.  He was (and remains) the BEST big brother in the entire world.  I think our main advantage has been the kids just don't fight - they didn't fight over toys, or time with us.  They had totally different experiences and each of them had (has) us all to themselves.  Virtually raised as only children with the added advantage of knowing a sib is there to help along the way.

Bubba really didn't like me when he got his braces.  Nope, he wasn't my biggest fan at all.  He really didn't need them - his teeth were about as straight as could be.  But he had one gap in his two front teeth - a character trait from his other side of the family - that I couldn't bear to see.  So - I fixed it.  That's what mom's do. :)

Little guy however is a hot mess.  His teeth are a challenge to say the least.  But the great news is I know they will be perfect in the end, just like his brothers.

Oh - and word to the wise... if you wait 11 years in between paying for orthodontia, the price goes up considerably.  Just saying.

Have a great Saturday, friends!  We're off for basketball at none other than the University of (gasp) Kansas.  Little guy will be exhausted - he says he has to hold his breath all day so he doesn't get "the funk".  He's not brainwashed or anything....

Jen

Unexpected Fulfillment

I try very, very hard to follow the Four Gift Rule for my little guy.  Not in that he only receives 4 gifts, but that they have relevance to one of the four rules.  As a reminder (or in case you've never heard), here they are:

So each year, I shop for clothes (easy, anything with an Under Armour logo works for him).  I shop at Barnes & Noble (again, easy... he LOVES to read and loves all things Wimpy Kid).  His want list is SUPER easy - he only writes down ONE thing that he wants more than anything in the entire world.  Simple, solved.

It's the needs list that I struggle with. What does he really need?  To be honest with you... not much.  Little guy has never needed for much in his life.  I feel fortunate for that and proud because of it but I worry that there is a key element of life that he isn't learning.  Or maybe I should just shut up and be happy that I am able to meet his needs.  I certainly don't intend to make him struggle but I do want him to know the difference between a need and a want.

On Christmas morning, little guy pounced down the stairs.  The excitement in his face was almost unbearable to see - he could hardly contain himself.  As he turned the corner into the living room, he saw his brand new Playstation 3 with a big red bow around it and squealed with delight.  He fell upon the floor and did some weird break dance looking move (yes, I totally tried it in the 80's.  So what?!).  We sat and watched him silently for moments, smiling inside and out.  It was awesome.  He asked if he could fire it up and of course we said "GO FOR IT!" as I trotted to the kitchen to make some coffee.

He loved his gift.  He still does.  He is in total heaven.  But it wasn't until Christmas night that I watched his need unveil itself to me and be fulfilled in front of my very eyes.

First off though - I was quite concerned about the games he received this year to go with his PS3.  Shooting games.  War games.  In light of Connecticut (and all the other evils in the world right now), I have been really worried about him being influenced by these games.  Becoming a recluse.  Being that boy that hides in front of the screen for hours, desensitizing himself to death and destruction.  Genuinely worried about it.  

It took a great deal of discussion to help me find calm with it, from both hubs and Bubba.  

Stage right, Jeremy.  We had chat off and on all day on Christmas Day.  I was so sad we weren't together - our first Christmas season apart from one another in 23 years.  Ugh.  My heart was breaking.  Kate was sending me pictures of Eli and I would laugh and then tear at every single one - so sad to be missing his little joys, his laughs, his excitement. 

Jeremy gave us all the best present ever and fulfilled little guy's need list perfectly Christmas day.  In the stuff Santa brought, little guy was given a headset.  Online access to that game I hate.  But with that, came online access to Bubba.

Yep, he could talk to Jeremy.  And not only did they talk, but Jeremy directed Coop through the game, protecting him from hearing other people's smack talk, teaching how to play and providing him guidance in only a way a big brother can.

They played for hours together.  Each time I walked by the living room, I smiled at Cooper.  My heart was so full, so happy.

His needs were met by his big brother this Christmas.

I'm a lucky woman.  I didn't pull it off on my own but God unveiled it to me. It's crazy how that happens!

Have a great Thursday, friends!
Jen

'Cause You Gotta have Faith

What a whirlwind weekend!  I feel so blessed, ever so apparent this time of year.  Only appropriate that I share a story with you this day.

 

A little girl in the 70's with three siblings, I was not raised in a church.  I was not given any religious education at home (unless you consider my mom's 2 favorite cuss phrases were Jesus Christ and God damn).  I didn't understand anything about religion at all, although we did have this really cool manger set up every year at Christmas that I would play with like a doll set.

 

I have one picture taken of me with my mom's handwriting on the back "Sunday School, 1978".  I have no memory of church or Sunday school, ever.  So I have no idea where that was taken.

 

And so it goes, my life journey with no religion.  When I married the first time I was married by a Mormon preacher outside since I had no church (nor did I want to be Mormon).  Sure, I listened to the words he spoke but wasn't really interested in understanding most of it. 

 

In my 20's, I remarried.  My father in law is a Baptist minister and he married hubs and I.  We had several sessions with him before we married that were quite lively.  I don't think I could possibly ever forget challenging him on the true meaning and intent of tithing.  Somehow, I still made it into the family!

 

Hubs and I went to church a bit in our 20's but nothing regular.  He had been in church his entire life and had a significant religious education but as many young people do he had moved away from the practice and ritual.  I certainly wasn't going to push the topic as I had no interest at all.

 

By my mid-20's though, my mom became ill.  The conversations started pretty slowly but ramped up significantly by the time I was 30.  She started to pray a lot.  She talked about God a lot.  She worried that she wasn't strong enough in her faith to be granted entrance to Heaven.  She became a God fearing Christian before my very eyes.  No, she didn't attend church.  I don't ever recall her owning a bible.  But she spoke to the Lord every single day... many times a day.  And she talked to me about it.

 

After 8 long years of trying to conceive, hubs and I learned of my pregnancy with the little guy.  In all definitions, it was a miracle.  Not that all of them aren't, by any means.  But it was pretty miraculous given our circumstances.  I started to wonder.

 

Coincidentally, Bubba had a friend and he and his family had a great church that they had invited us to many times.  One Easter Sunday during my pregnancy, we finally went to church.

 

Everything changed quickly.  We loved it, all of us.  Even Bubba.  So we joined.  I became confirmed in the Lutheran faith.  I was baptised, finally (at age 30) along with Bubba and the little guy.  Bubba completed three years of confirmation classes and became confirmed.  He went on to complete 4 years of private Lutheran high school education, learning more about being Lutheran and all other religions that I could even fathom.

 

Life became busy.  We built a house.  Bubba got married (by that same Baptist minister (and his Pop).  We gained Sassy and then of course, Nugget.  We shipped Bub off to the Navy (along with his fam).  We had two back surgeries.  And somehow, through all those miracles, we fell out of faith.

 

No excuses.  It just happened.

 

This Christmas season, little guy began asking me a lot of questions.  Who is Jesus?  I know it's his birthday, but why is he important?  What did he do?  Why do bad things still happen if he is our Savior?

 

Yep.. great questions.  So we did only what I know to do - we took him to church.  Candlelight Service, to be exact.

 

 

I have to say though that I was a bit intimidated.  I was pretty sure they were going to slap a visitor badge on our shirts, it's been so long since we've been there.  You wouldn't have known it though - they welcomed us as if we had never left.

 

But the biggest surprise?  Cooper's excitement.  His steady gaze at Pastor as he spoke.  He took in every single word uttered.  2 hours before church service he was jumping into the shower to get ready to go.  I honestly haven't seen him get that excited in a long time.  He was THRILLED.

 

In total shock and awe, I tried to soak in his reaction.  He loved every minute of the service.  I have never seen him sit so still and be so in tune with what someone else is saying (I sure hope he does that at school but I know better!)  He talked about the service off and on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.  And much to my surprise, he has asked when we are going back.

 

I admit as the "unchurched" girl that didn't go to church regularly until I was 30, I do find solace and comfort in our church.  Our members are kind, comfortable, regular people just like us.  Both of our Pastors are fantastic, giving us energy in equal but different ways.  The only final thing we need to do is introduce ourselves (and Coop) to the new DCE (the one Bubba had has moved).

 

It is ironic that at little guy's age this is almost the same time we began taking Bubba to church.  I think God may be intervening somehow, gently reminding us our responsibility and duty to teach little guy. 

 

Hubs bought me a CD for Christmas and as I type this entry I am listening to a song that fits perfectly.  Kip Moore wrote it especially for me, I'm sure.  Lyrics are below and here is a link to the song if you want to hear it --->  Faith When I Fall.

 

Faith When I Fall

 

I know it's been a long time since the last time we talked
I know I've been a stranger and that's all my fault
And asking you for anything don't really seem right
But the winds of change are blowing so I'm begging you tonight

I know the rain is coming and it's sure gonna pour
I know there ain't no running from this kind of storm
It's gonna get harder and harder, they keep on pushing through
I'm gonna wanna quit, so I'll be counting on you

When the clouds start parting and the sun starts shining through
This time I wont forget, I wont forget about you

CHORUS

Give me love when I ain't got nobody
A little hope when I ain't got none at all
Give me love when I ain't got nobody
A little hope when I ain't got none at all
Give me light up ahead on a journey
Give me strength when I'm standing
And faith when I fall

Give me strength when I'm standing
And faith when I fall, yeah

Have a great Wednesday, friends!

Jen

I Still Believe

Merry Christmas Eve!  Or as us parents like to call it... countdown to mayhem.

I am so thankful that little guy takes after me with his literal interpretation of the world.  Yes, sometimes it makes him a little gullable (okay, ALL of the time) but this translation does has its upside.

He still believes.

I'm one lucky momma.

And no, he's not special. Let me clarify.  He WANTS to believe.

Yep, his desire of wanting and hoping there is a Santa is much, much higher than his doubts.  I know this is probably the last year that I've got him here but I really hope it isn't.

To help him along, I sent him a letter.  Well... I didn't send him a letter. Santa did.  Mailed with a special seal, from the North Pole of course.  Here are a few excerpts:

Dear Cooper,

Merry Christmas!  I am happy to know that even though you are getting older your name constantly appears on my Nice list.  Please try to keep up the good work, Cooper.  I see this year that you have made quite a few accomplishments - your first home run, signed up for choir, trying the trumpet and you even won a spot on the Gunners (basketball team)!  GREAT JOB!  You have become such a fine young man.

I know that you are getting too old for children's toys but I do see that you are hoping for a Playstation 3.  Well Coop, I will make sure to pack it in my red bag for you.  I know as you get older it gets harder to believe in me.  But remember this:  it's not just about believing in me but about believing in the Spirit of Christmas.  Even though you may think you are to old for me I will still be checking in on you from time to time and making sure that your name stays on my list.  

It will be great to come see you this year.  Please tell your friend Carson Wooster that I will be coming to see him, too.  I also know you like to stay up late but please try to get bed early on Christmas Eve so I can bring my magic to you.

Keep up the great work and I will visit soon!

Your friend,

Santa

Wowzers, right?  Even mentioned his friend's name and included a packet of reindeer food.

He bought it.  He totally bought it.  Well, if nothing else... he now doubts his friends that tell him Santa isn't real.  Sure, he knows Santa doesn't come down our chimney (given we have a gas fireplace).  He knows he can't really drag around the world's gifts in one night.

But he still wonders.  How?

We keep it up of course by telling him that we couldn't afford the things that Santa often brings him.  And sometimes Santa brings things mom wouldn't really approve of, so he knows it can't be me.

I want to bottle up the wonder in his mind, the look in his eyes and the excitement he feels when he bounds down those stairs tomorrow morning realizing his wishes came true.  Santa really is a very cool dude.

I'm so excited for church tonight.  We haven't been in a long while and I really want to get back.  It's time for Coop to start confirmation and what parents would we be if we only forced Bubba to go through that? :)  I painfully miss my momma.  I miss the WC kids so much it stings.  Church will hopefully help tie all of those emotions together and soothe my heart.

Merry Christmas, friends.  Have fun with your traditions tonight and tomorrow.  Enjoy every second.  Hug your kiddos tight and love one another.  I wish you all the best.

Jen