Some Things Really Do Come Free

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When I was a kid, we lived a short walking distance away from a lake. It was not a glimmering blue body of water or a place where people wanted to frequent, for that matter. In fact, there was that slimy seaweed on the bottom that I really hated...I don't remember swim shoes being available then like they are now. There were large areas, however, with that gritty sand that you could dig your toes in to.

There was also a rather short wooden dock that stretched out about thirty-five or forty feet (I'm a terrible judge of distance, but I think it's a good guess). That dock provided endless entertainment. We would sprint across those slippery planks with an innertube encompassing our twelve-year old waists and jump as far as we could in to that murky water.

For my birthday one year, my parents bought me one of those inflatable boats with oars. I would pack a lunch and spend the entire day out on the water by myself or with a good friend, tackle boxes and fishing poles in tow. As far as I was concerned, I had everything I could ever want.

When we did stay "on land", we rarely went home for lunch. Summer campers would kindly provide us with Doritos and peanut butter sandwiches out of the goodness of their hearts. They were probably wondering if we did, in fact, have homes or if we were orphans given that we barely left that beach. We doused ourselves in baby oil and tanned on flipped-over aluminum boats (we never heard about the dangers of skin cancer at that point!).

The sun would begin to set and the sting of our sunburned shoulders would nag us that it was time to go home. The lively water charged with energy from boats passing by all day came to a calm. Oranges and purples streaked across the sky and gentle breezes cooled our bodies.

Most of the kids that hung out at the lake lived in what you might consider shacks. But no one ever dared to tell us that we were poor. We had everything we needed, but more importantly, everything we could ever want.

Night had fallen, and coincidingly, the knowledge erupted within that we were kings.

Camera-happy....

Today, I am so excited because dh ordered a new camera last night. Back in July, we were on our family vacation and Dynamite managed to have a near-drowning incident...okay, that may be a little dramatic. But he did fall face-first in to the lake and began inhaling mouthfuls of immune-boosting seaweed-soaked water. Mother's instinct being what it is, I ran out in to the water to grab him. Long story short: I had our camera in one pocket and my cell phone in the other. Both fell out and Cindy-Lou Who showed her stuff by finding them in record time. Sadly, however, the camera never recovered. At the end of the day, the little guy was just fine (albeit a little frightened to go near the water) and we chalked the camera up to another life-saving adventure (I'm a stay-at-home mom; I have to make my life sound somewhat daring when the opportunity arises).

All that to say, I'm geeked! I can't wait to start sharing some recent pictures with all of you. Hope everyone is well!

I Want to be King!

I love this picture. Dear husband (dh) says it looks like Dynamite is shouting, "I AM KING OF THE WORRRLLLLD!". On that note, I wanted to share a fabulous quote from Marianne Williamson's book, A Return to Love:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. You were born to manifest the glory of God that is within you. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Wow! This is powerful stuff. How often do we find ourselves filling our minds with negative self-talk? For example, "I'm too old to play an instrument well, why bother trying?" or "I haven't written anything in ages, I don't even think I can anymore". We allow the nay-saying to stifle out new possibilities. We hang our heads feeling defeated when we haven't even gotten out of the gate. Talk about being unfair!

As a kid, I can remember feeling embarrassed that I enjoyed reading. I recall being laughed at when I used a word like "catapulted" instead of "jumped". I was ashamed of what I loved, because it made me different. God forbid that I draw any attention to myself and step outside of the safe circle of mediocrity. We see children make fun of others all the time because something is different about them. They are thinner, they are fatter, they are smarter, they are shorter. We grow up with the voices calling out, "Don't be different! Don't stand out!". And we gradually learn to internalize those voices. And if we allow them to, the voices deter us from becoming the person we were meant to be.

Remember, who are you not to be amazing? Choose not to be stifled. Choose to be incredible. It is what you were created for.

“There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself. It is the only true guide you will ever have. And if you cannot hear it, you will all of your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls.” -Howard Thurman

A little Moonlight Sonata, please?

Remember how I was writing about being disorganized and forgetful? Well, this morning was a perfect example. I woke up and was lazily sipping my coffee while the kids played. Dh decided to go over to my parents' to work on their computer and the three musketeers wanted to tag along. As they were all piling in the car, I remembered, oh no!, I made plans to go to dh's aunt's house which is an hour and a half away. At this point, it was roughly ten o'clock and I was still in my jammies. Let the William Tell Overture begin!

To make a long story short, I was able to get myself together while the kids were gone and when they got back we all headed out for our little road trip. We listened to Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs on cd along with Cindy-Lou Who's new Taylor Swift cd (I make no apologies, we both love her...the boys roll their eyes and we choose to ignore them).

It was a day of leisurely visiting and kids belly laughing. Super-boy and Cindy-Lou Who took a ride out in their uncle's wagon which was hitched to the back of a tractor. Believe me, they were in their glory. Dynamite wanted to get on, but he didn't want to get on, if you get my drift. He kept crying, "wa-non! wanon!", but every time I would try to put him in, he would wrap his arms around my neck in a death grip. Maybe next time...

So, in spite of my forgetfulness this morning, it turned out to be a really pleasant day. Ending with a little bit of Moonlight Sonata, which is way more relaxing than the way it started out.

The Muffins Can Wait

"Mom, how do you spell 'Grandpa -------'?". Or "Mom, how do you spell 'You are my best friend and I love you'?". (I know I'm messing up my punctuation here, fellow English nerds--I will get out my MLA and straighten myself out, I promise). And so, I begin slowly, "M-o-m...".

I really want to bake muffins today. I want to do something that requires my complete attention and have zero interruptions. But my husband so gently broke it to me today, "I don't know if you're going to get that...this...year". Nice. And I may not. So, how do I cope? How do I manage to feel fulfilled when right now, as I'm typing, Dynamite is spilling Cheerios all over the floor that I just swept. Cindy-lou Who continues to call out her spelling demands from her corner of the living-room , and Super-boy stands here chattering in my ear about Pokemon.

...And now Super-boy is doing somersaults off the couch...
...And now Dynamite is emptying my pan cupboard...

Perhaps surrender is the answer. Lay it down. Right now, I need to be content with what is before me and recognize that being in the will of God is fulfilling my responsibilities at this very moment in time. At this very moment, it is my duty to gently get my children headed toward bed. To read a story, brush their teeth and say prayers...without gritting my teeth and doing so in the most hurried manner possible. It is my blessing to be able to kiss them on their foreheads and tell them that they are loved and that they are good.

And to tell myself that the muffins can wait. To be fully present. Wow, it is so hard to do that. But for tonight, I will do my best.

A Time to Dance

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under
heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up
what is planted;

a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep; and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to seek and a time to lose;

a time to rend, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

a time to love, and a time to hate;

a time for war, and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

Today, my Aunt Eileen and I buried my grandma. She has been gone for over a year now and my aunt has had her ashes in an urn at her house. We finally felt it was time to lay her down to rest. It was a beautiful fall day, full of autumn breezes, one that my grandma would have basked in.

My aunt and I shared a lot of great memories and knew that grandma was laughing right along with us. One of the greatest things about her was that when she laughed, her shoulders shook up and down. Even if there was not a sound coming out of her mouth, her body was jiggling.

Right after my biological father died, my grandma and aunt went to a group meeting that they were told would help them cope with their loss. The group began by going around and making introductions. The first person they came to said, "My name is _____ and I have terrible anxiety. I can't even go to the grocery store without having a panic attack". The second person, "My name is _____ and I break out in to cold sweats when I leave the house". As the introductions continued, my grandma and aunt realized they were in a group for people who suffer from agoraphobia. My aunt remembers that out of the corner of her eye, she saw my grandma's shoulders start to shake up and down uncontrollably.

Even in the midst of unbearable pain, there is reason for laughter. We have certainly grieved, but today we celebrated and did so with a smile.

Easy Chicken Parmesan

Just a recipe for you to try out. Super easy and very enjoyable. I generally use my homemade spaghetti sauce with this, but I've also grabbed a jar of Bertoli and that works nicely also. Enjoy!http://recipes.epicurean.com/recipe/854/easy-chicken-parmesan.html