KEEP BELIEVING

This  Sunday evening, our church, Harvester Christian in St. Charles, MO, was hosting a concert all about worship this Holiday Season. As the messages have focused on Christmas, - preparing for the arrival, giving gifts, and today, WORSHIP, the church offered a Christmas worship and praise session with the hope of just glorifying God and offering praise this Holiday Season to get us in the TRUE Christmas Spirit.

I informed the boyz we were going. They weren't exactly thrilled, but they weren't exactly resistant either.

On our way there, as they were commenting about being at church for the second time that weekend and the 4th time in 8 days, I said, the reason we are going is because we tend to get so caught up at Christmas with getting gifts and giving gifts and shopping and everything else that we forget about why we have Christmas at all.

We passed a house just up the street that has my all time favorite yard decoration. It is cut out of Santa with his hat off kneeling in front of a baby in a manger. I said, THAT is why we are going to church tonight. THAT is the Christmas spirit we need to have.

I explained that how humbling Easter is - when we remember how Christ was brutally killed to pay the penalty for our sins - yet Christmas is a time when we should be so much more humble. That God came to Earth as Jesus as a baby. That he was GOD and was capable of doing ANYTHING HE WANTED and ANYTHING HE COULD, but he came as a baby to understand us and to help us understand Him. THat he messed his diaper and cried and was a toddler but was going to some day save the world! I said how I wished the Bible talked more about how Jesus was as a child. That one day he was the same age as them and had the same issues they have with friends and stuff but was GOD and in the middle of that could have done ANYTHING, but he loved us so SOOOO much he became one of us anyway. That he let himself fall down and skin his knees and stub his toes and do all the things babies and then kids do. WOW. Isn't that amazing? Let's go to church tonight and worship Him because of this amazing gift.

Grant said, "I know one thing. If you died and Jesus was our parent, he would probably let us open one of those presents under the tree early or allow us to go to Dairy Queen (next door to church) after we worshipped Him tonight."

Feeling rather defeated from trying to get a point across, but also admiring his wit and determination, I asked which he would choose if Jesus was his parent. He said, "Well, since I don't really want to waste your money on ice cream we could get at home and since this is a privlege to do early. I think He would allow me and Gavin to open one of the presents to both of us. I would choose that. Wouldn't you, Gavin?" Gavin agreed.

They praised Jesus in their own beautiful ways at church. Gavin - through the awkward, puberty-inflicted "Im-not-sure-who-I-want-you-to-see-who-I-am" phase - tight lipped, occassional head on my shoulder, barely audible singing. Grant - through the - "mom-needs-to-hear-me-and-believe-I-am-sincere-because-I-really-want-to-open-that-gift", yet, "I-am-still-a-kid-and-I-am-not-ashamed-to-sing-as-loud-as-I-can" worship voice explaining to me all the songs they had recently sung in kids church and all the kids in the audience tonight that he recognized. I loved every minute of it. I know Jesus is pleased by worship and that He knows the motives of a heart and who is worshipping Him with a pure heart. I know Gavin and Grant's motives were pure beneath it all.

As we left, Grant inquired- "How did I do? I sang every song. And you know what? That was actually kind of fun. I enjoyed it."

They are now home playing NHL12 (won't buy NHL13 due to strike season) for the XBox - a new addition to their collection after opening it from under the tree tonight.

Judge me. I don't care. It was a great night.

KEEP BELIEVING

Dear Brian,

Today you would have been 38. You didn't see 37 on this earth. Are there birthdays in heaven? Since you are no longer in your body, I have assumed there are not. I have often wondered what age you are in heaven. How will I recognize you? Will I be old and gray and you will be forever 36? Do you even see other heavenly souls as they appeared on earth at all or is there an entirely different realm of recognition that we on earth cannot comprehend because we are limited to the senses we use in this earthly body? Do you gain an omniscience in heaven? Can you see us on earth?

If so, then you would know the struggles I have been having lately.

I do not love this time of year. It isn't fair to the boyz for me to have this demeanor right now. This is a fun time for them. They love Halloween and I squelch their excitement becoming Scrooge-like regarding all the stimulation, candy and costumes. Some of my apathy may be warranted - additional candy in the boyz' sugar-filled world and the agonizing costume decision-making process, yet I remember my own enthusiasm as a child for particular events and occasions. Pure unadulterated excitement. The boyz have that excitement but I get so involved in my own struggles regarding this time of year I am not only missing it, I am discouraging it.

This time of year reminds me so much of you and I get very wrapped up in thoughts of you - thoughts that cause me much confusion. Fall was YOUR time. You loved the cooler weather. You loved the crisp air and the preparations for the winter nesting season ahead. You cleaned and organized the garage. You prepared the cars with a good coat of wax for the winter. This is football season and you would sometimes veg out on that couch for hours watching your favorite teams. This is hockey season and you personified hockey for me. You loved Halloween - dressing up, taking the boyz trick or treating, carving pumpkins and eating pumpkin seeds. We did carve pumpkins this year again. The boyz love it, too. This year they even helped with removing the insides of the pumpkin. However, I did not save a single pumpkin seed. As each one was tossed, I thought of you and how you would squeeze through all the pumpkin guts to extract the seeds. I was ever so thankful to have less mess as none of us desired to ingest a nicely roasted pumpkin seed later. I know you would have sighed and shook your head at that, but I am REALLY okay with that.

Additionally, this time of year reminds me of all the struggles of 2 years ago when life took the more certain steps towards your death. When I took the first steps to call hospice as you took a sudden turn for the worse. When you ended up in the hospital again with another surgery. When Gavin ended up in the hospital just a few hours after you were released. I get overwhelmed sometimes at the thoughts of what my life was like, of what our boyz witnessed, of the constant turmoil we lived in the midst of and I simply break down. I don't understand it because I am going about life just fine now and in the midst of that turmoil, we had peace and joy and we loved life. However, remembering it all, it is almost as if I actually FEEL the chaos and trauma that we SHOULD have felt at the time. I guess at the time, God's spirit took control to help us not only survive, but ENJOY the time. Today, God's spirit is with me in THIS present time but I am overcome with emotion at what we lived through.

Also, today is your birthday.


I get sad.
I get angry.
I get bitter.
Mostly, though, I get confused.

Confused because I have all these thoughts and emotions regarding you right now. I know the boyz do to. Confused because life is going really well for all of us. Confused because you are flooding my mind with the past despite that someone else is filling my present. I think it is fair to say that confused can best describe what anyone would feel mourning a past that will never be while they are falling in love with someone else wondering what the future holds for them.

Confused because I can't seem to let myself just let go and enjoy life and the good things that are in it. I find something wrong with every situation. If I can't find something wrong with the situation or with someone else, I find something wrong with myself. I'm not spending enough time with the boyz. I'm helping them too much with their homework. I'm not helping them enough with their school work. I have them in too many activities. I don't have them in enough activities. I have too much to do around the house that I never get to. I need to do more projects around the house. That takes time away from the boyz. I need to work out more. I need to work out less because it takes too much time. Things with my guy are going swimmingly. Things with my guy are going TOO swimmingly for how long we have known each other so something must be wrong. You get the idea.

I continue to sabotage my own happiness. It is as if I have become so guarded in my life and what I have endured that I cannot just allow good things to enter my life for fear of losing that good thing. If I stay guarded and wait for the shoe to drop, when it does, I will be ready. I will stay strong and I will overcome.

Because that is what has defined me for so long - I cope, I overcome, I keep my faith, I move on. It is difficult to change my thought pattern to accepting blessings as things that may STAY. Changing to such a way of thinking opens me up to vulnerability. Living like that means I am no longer afraid of losing.

I see it in every one of us - me, Gavin and Grant.

I see that Grant has changed. He is living for the blessing of today assuming it will still be here tomorrow. And he is happy. Happier than I have seen him in years. It is a beautiful thing to witness.

Gavin is guarded. He is cautious. He finds wrongs in every right. Maybe it is his age and that he is also afraid of accepting the blessings of today for fear they will be gone tomorrow. Gavin is me.

I know what you wanted for me and for the boyz. We talked about it several times. My prayer right now is that we can all move forward with receiving the good times, the good people, the good blessings that are bestowed upon us with the same assumption that they will continue to be here tomorrow that the rest of the world lives by.

I pray this "difficult" time of year and your birthday can transform into the milestone marking the time that Angie and the boyz began living assuming the present can evolve into a beautiful and blessed future.

KEEP BELIEIVNG

I was mowing the lawn the other day. In doing so, I stopped the mower no less than a dozen times to pluck out of the yard, 3 practice golf balls, a tennis racket, Nerf darts, a batman cape, 1-1/2 pairs of socks, a shovel, a football, 2 plastic cups, and a dismembered Power Ranger. And I was growing increasingly frustrated each time I had to stop the lawn mower to pick up the next item in my way. Until I realized that in just a few years, when I mow the lawn, there will no longer be 3 practice golf balls, a tennis racket, Nerf darts, a batman cape, 1-1/2 pairs of socks, a shovel, a football, 2 plastic cups, and a dismembered Power Ranger in my yard to pick up.

KEEP BELIEVING

For those of you that don't see me on facebook, I thought I would give you a glimpse into what Spring brings out in my boyz.

In the spirit of the what-else-can-come-our-way lifestyle that seems to plague my boyz and me, Tuesday evening brought more trouble our way.


Grant and Gavin were at a friend’s house playing and Grant came running home screaming and crying. He had fallen and bent a finger backwards. He was in terrible agony, but was able to move his fingers some. He can be quite dramatic at times, too, especially at the sight of blood. However, there was no blood. Because he could move his fingers some and the finger did not look out of alignment, I knew he had strained or sprained it and some time would minimize his pain. I googled ‘broken and dislocated fingers’ to confirm my theory and felt quite comfortable with my diagnosis.

Naturally, this all happened on a night when I had a babysitter line up due to plans w my bf and on the eve of a trip to see family in Kentucky and Missouri for a few days.

Because of our impending trip, I decided to take him to prompt care to have it looked at because he was quite relentless with his insistence that he could not move it without pain.

While at prompt care, he was able to regain some motion in the finger (his right hand ring finger) and started talking a lot about “if it’s broken, can I call Mommo as soon as we get home and tell her.” Or “if it’s broken, I bet Gavin won’t even believe it.” I began to get the impression that he WANTED a broken bone – as if it would be some sort of bragging right or some sort of kid-rite-of-passage into coolness. So, I explained to him that he did not WANT this to be broken and listed all kinds of things that would become a pain in the butt if in fact it WAS broken, not the least of which was our mini spring break vacation that may not happen. I was convinced as his range of motion continued to increase and his pain level continued to decrease that the finger had been strained and was getting better with time just as I had suspected.

I declared to Grant a few times in the waiting room that if his finger was better and it really wasn’t hurt, this was a waste of time and money. I told him that there was no way he would be able to keep moving his finger like that if it was broken or dislocated. I was increasingly convinced he WANTED a broken bone. When we were finally called back to the exam room an hour later, the nurse asked what we were there for. I retorted, “We are here to waste your time.” Yes, I really said that. The doc came in a few minutes later, pushed on and rotated the finger. It seemed to cause no discomfort to Grant until he pushed just below the first knuckle.

He ordered an x-ray. I knew after the x-ray that it was not broken because when Grant was demonstrating the poses he had to do with his hand and finger, he did them with the wrong finger. I quite sarcastically pointed out that he was holding the wrong finger. He said he keeps forgetting which finger. I knew it wasn’t broken or dislocated for sure then, as only a mom can know.

In fact, I KNEW it wasn’t broken or dislocated as only a mom can know until the doctor came in and said, “Well, he broke it.”


(gulp)

(deep breath)

(proverbial tail between my legs, head hung very low)


“Grant, I am SO VERY SORRY for not thinking it was broken,” I said, hugging him.

Grant looked kind of panicked then and said, “So it IS broken?”

“Yup. It sure is, Bud.”

“What’s gonna happen?”

“They are going to wrap it up and we will have to see a special bone doctor to get it looked at again and they can tell us how to take best care of it.”

He got kind of excited about entering the elite club of those plagued with broken bones asking me if he could call Mommo when he got home now and once again declaring that he bet Gavin would NOT EVEN BELIEVE it when he showed him. Having been a member of the elite club of those plagued with broken bones as an adult, I knew it was not a club of which you want to be a member. The glory wears off quickly, but the inconvenience continues for weeks.

This doctor mom realized her track record for diagnosing broken bones is NOT A GOOD ONE. And even though I vowed to stop practicing medicine and making home diagnosis that day, I did not learn from my own mistakes.

Today, I am awaiting call backs (over 2 hours later) from the pediatrician because our insurance situation requires a referral from the primary physician even though they did not even see Grant. Alas, we are slave to the system, so we impatiently await the return phone calls now. Our trip is inevitably delayed, but we do not know to what extent until we receive the appointment time.

My family's track record of broken bones always falls on dates when events are planned. Gavin broke his wrist on my anniversary. I broke my foot on home leave from Canada the day we were heading from Peoria to Perryville to celebrate Gavin's 5th birthday. Grant broke his finger the day before we were leaving for Spring Break vacation.


Today, Grant is also learning that a broken bone is not exactly as glamorous as he had originally thought and the litany of reasons I gave him in the waiting room (which I naturally regret) as to why he would NOT want a broken bone are all, in fact, true. Today I am working with a very grumpy 7 year old to have a better attitude about his situation because we have to make the best of it for a yet-to-be-determined amount of time. Still, a 7-year old who just realized he cannot easily feed himself or open the milk, and worse yet, operate the Wii remote control with his fingers, is a difficult audience to convince. I don’t blame him one bit, but we are all continually developing our patience and our come-what-may response and attitude.

Ironically, just 24 hours prior to said incident causing the broken bone (which was nothing more than running in a neighbor’s yard), he and his brother were doing this for the first time ever. They walked away from this without a scratch.

KEEP BELIEVING

Finding the balance of moving on with life and being the link to the past and a good mom to 2 little boyz who don’t have a daddy is becoming increasingly difficult.



After the first year anniversary of Brian’s death, I felt an odd sense of freedom. I felt as if perhaps I was no longer under what I perceived was the watchful eye of many on-lookers awaiting my response and reaction to each “first.” And while I had been moving on with life and trying to help the boyz move on with life, I still felt an expectation was upon me to handle each situation with a certain degree of emotion even if I wasn’t feeling much of anything.



Now, I feel the expectations are perhaps dissipating. I am forming new relationships and friendships that didn’t know me as Brian’s wife. I have people in my life that wouldn’t even know I am a widow if I didn’t tell them. They know me as this girl, Angie, not this “you are so strong, you have been through so much yet look at you” 38 year old widow. I can’t tell you how liberating that is. Because I spent so much of the first 6 months embracing the role of grieving widow, reaching a point of wanting to live life again was conflicting to say the least.



In order to reach a point of wanting to seek a possible intimate relationship again, I had to ensure myself I was not in love with Brian anymore. This was especially difficult because I was very much in love with Brian when he died. And because I embraced the role of grieving widow for so many months, I was still fostering that love. Then I started to feel stirrings to advance with this part of my life. I knew I couldn’t give my heart to anyone else if I was still holding it for Brian. So I had to fall out of love with Brian. It was a very guilt-ridden process to allow myself to fall out of love with a dead man that did nothing to me except die.



Today I am very okay with that. I know this is so painful for so many of you that read this blog to hear, but I am no longer in love with Brian. I love and value what we had. I cherish him as I do anyone that I loved or cared for that has passed on before me. But, in order for me to love again and be loved again, I can’t be in love with Brian anymore.



The only difficult part about not being in love with Brian is the pain I know it causes so many others. I know for Brian’s family, friends and many of my family, I am the link that instantly reminds them of him. I know they look at me and expect him to shuffle in behind me at times. I know to watch me move on is a painful reminder of his permanent absence.



So, it is hard to be me. It is hard to be excited about the next chapters of my life when I am with people that realize they experienced the last chapter of that part of their life just by my presence. The book is over. They cannot have another Christmas with their son or watch their brother celebrate another birthday. They will not experience another backyard barbeque or card game with their friend/relative. And they are incredibly sad about it as I concurrently have been able to let go of that and become excited about the possibility of holidays and special occasions with someone else someday.



It is also hard to be me in the sense that talking & reminiscing a lot about Brian can, depending on the situation, hold me in the past. It can cause me heartache and keep me reliving past moments instead of looking towards the future. I feel like I have a lot of future ahead of me. I am 38. I hope and pray I have as much life to live ahead as I’ve already lived behind.



The largest conflict is the boyz. Oh my, the boyz! It is a constant struggle to find a healthy balance of healthy grieving and acceptance. One day there may be a brief mention of Daddy’s ability to play hockey, then there are several days with no mention of Daddy at all, then there are days when they hold tightly to every piece of memorabilia they have and refer to him as if he may walk through the door at any moment. I realize that is grief – it comes in waves and it is unpredictable and illogical. But, the most difficult aspect of helping them handle their grief is knowing that I have come so far in my acceptance and am even eager about what lies ahead while they just want Daddy. I can almost sense that they know I have let go of Brian so much, so they purposefully hold on to try to force me to.



I will always keep Brian’s memory alive for them as much as I can. However, the healthy balance between keeping his memory alive and living in a past life is difficult to find. I want them to have pride about their daddy. I want them to remember the activities they did together. I want them to know about the type of man he was. I want them to know as much about their daddy as possible. However, I also know that they were 6 and 7-1/2 when he died. I know they will likely have spotty recollections from this time of their life at best. Knowing that, for the last year I spent so much effort drilling those memories into them so they will have more vivid recollections, I am no longer sure if I have done them a favor or a disservice.


This is all not even mentioning that they both handle and process life and its issues in polar opposite of each other and the challenges associated with that.



Regarding Brian, so often the boyz seem to live in the past. I want them to have a healthy outlook on what lies ahead of them. I want them to feel empowered and strong. I want them to feel capable and sure of themselves. And Brian isn’t here to help me do it. It’s all me. So, I have started to change my focus from our former family of 4 to our current family dynamic trio. I am more intentional in the role of encourager and cheer-leader and leader instead of saying things like “your daddy would be so proud.” And he would be. I just don’t know the best way to handle having them accept his death, yet want to know he WOULD be proud and also know that we have to live with our current circumstances and use what we currently have to forge ahead in life. I want the memories of Brian to be healthy and to be just that – memories, not what drives them in life, not what they are looking to as their present circumstance.



As I do this, I notice them holding on and grieving all over again. I don’t know if it is good or bad. I am mixed and conflicted. They are reminiscing a ton about Dad. They are sad and I am here for them. If they have questions about Brian, I answer them. If they feel like they need to cry, I give my shoulder. I kind of feel like maybe this is good to an extent, that we have been living in the past to such a large degree that they haven’t really processed as much as I had thought they had. I wonder if their nostalgia and sadness is a step forward.



I don’t know. I just know it is hard. WAY HARDER THAN I THOUGHT. It is complicated to know how to manage and handle it all.



Mostly, though, it is very difficult to find the right balance.



I imagine it will get easier in time, but it’s all gonna be about balance.

KEEP BELIEVING

It is becoming increasingly difficult to write things on this blog at times. I lack inspiration. Brian gave me some pretty amazing material with his constant inspirational attitude and demeanor despite his circumstances. Strange things have been happening in my life, which I refer to as the "widow phenomenon," but I can't really write about them because they are very personal and involve some that read this blog. I have a boyfriend, but I don't wanna write about that yet because, once again?  personal. We'll see where it goes...maybe someday... So, I will write about the boyz and some funny things they have been up to.

Yesterday, Grant was explaining to me how a second grade girl has been bullying him by calling him names and taunting him.
Me: Grant, do you know why she is doing that to you?
Grant: Because she is mean.
Me: No, because she likes you.
Grant: She hates me. She always calls me loser.
Me: No, girls do things like that when they like a boy.
Grant: Are girls' brains stupid or something?
Me: Well, we can do pretty silly things to get the attention of a boy we like.
Grant: How do you know?
Me: I hate that I have to remind you so often, but I AM a girl.
Gavin: Did you bully Daddy?
Me: Well, not exactly, but I wasn't always nice. Neither was he.
Gavin: Did you call him loser and chase him and throw snowballs at him?
Me: No, but I sometimes acted like I didn't care or would ignore him and stuff like that to see if he would like me and come after me. They usually didn't work on your Dad.
Gavin: No mom, you should have done this: You go up to someone. You say, "Your shoes are cool," then you walk away and they will come after you.
Me: Girls are supposed to tell boys their shoes are cool and walk away??
Grant: Yes, Mom. It really works.
Me: I didn't know that secret. Are you sure it isn't boys that are supposed to tell girls their shoes are cool?
Gavin: Mom, it doesn't matter. You just go up to someone and say, "your shoes are cool," and walk away. It will totally work every time.
Me: Did you learn this on ICarly?
Grant: No.
Me: Drake and Josh?
Gavin: Yes. It works.

We spent the next few minutes with my boys complimenting my socks because I wasn't wearing shoes and casually walking away and my chasing after them to get their attention. I got a few kisses out of the charade, so it was worth it. I fear their humiliation some day when they try it for real.

----------------------------

Me: (glancing him up and down) Did you check your back?
KEEP BELIEVING

Dear Gavin and Grant,

You are capable of catching a 9" circumference baseball in a glove opening less than 8" wide.

You are proficient at banging an 8" circumference tennis ball with a 10" racket in the front driveway.

You are adept at knocking the cover off a 9" circumference baseball with an 8" circumference baseball bat when thrown at you from over 30 feet away.

You can swish a basketball 27 inches in circumference into a hoop only a few inches larger 8 feet in the air.

Heck, you are talented enough to hit an aluminum can less than 8" tall with a 6mm bb from a gun over 20 feet away.

Pack 254 pinewood derby.

As instructed, we arrived an hour before the race time to register. Actually, we were intentionally 15 mnutes late, because this seasoned mom knows too much time before the structured and organized activity begins coupled with nearly fifty 6-11 years old boys yields too much opportunity for wall-climbing. Which is exactly what they did:

This is my boyz on Christmas morning:

I can't stop listening to this song.




As the boys moan and roll their eyes every time they hear it lately, I have been explaining that it is my theme song for Christmas this year. I have been telling them I think it should be our family theme song.

They disagree.

They think these should be our family Christmas theme songs:





KEEP BELIEVING

Today's Before and After Theme:

Our Christmas Tree.



Okay, TECHNICALLY, this is not OUR Christmas tree. I didn't actually take a picture of our tree before it was decorated because I didn't have the foresight for the before-and-after theme week on this blog. If I HAD taken a picture, it would look a lot like this one, only more real looking and full because this year I bought a new Christmas tree that kicks serious Yule arse in its authenticity, shape and fullness.



These pictures were taken DURING the decorating process. The same morning Grant found the tooth fairy did not indeed stiff him this time around, Gavin awoke to find that mommy had erected the tree the night before while they slept. The boys LOVE decorating the tree, but I do not LOVE their help assembling the tree in preparation for its adornments. They THINK they would love this part, but I know them well enough to know it would NEVER be good enough for Gavin and Grant would start decorating it well before it was ready.






I insist upon listening to Christmas music and drinking Baileys on the rocks hot chocolate during this decorating process. The boys love to hear stories about Christmases past while we do this. They love unwrapping each ornament and hearing the possible story that explains it. This year, Grant had one meltdown when he came across this ornament from 2001. He could not understand why his name would not be on it. I explained that in 2001, this WAS our family. He threatened to break it and went upstairs to his room and cried for a several minutes.



I captured these next two during shots as the boys were busy decorating. I think these two shots could not better describe my boys personalities without their actually being present in the picture.


Each year my mom gets the boys a keepsake Hallmark ornament. Often, they get ornaments from Brian's mom, too or various great aunts and uncles. My mom writes what year from Memaw and Papa on each ornament for the boys to remember whose is whose. They LOVE opening and putting these ornaments on the tree. These are their favorites because they know these ornaments are THEIRS FOR LIFE. I take great care in storing these ornaments in their original packaging (plastic, bubble wrap, box and all) so that when the boys are older, and these ornament go with them some day, they will last, because again, THEIRS FOR LIFE.

The first shot is how Grant opens and cares for his ornament packaging.

The second is Gavin.


After all was said and done, here is our tree:

Some day, I may have a Martha Stuart tree or a themed tree with coordinating colors. For now, it is filled with homemade clay sculptures too heavy for the branch, pieces of paper with doodling on them from the boys preschool years, star wars, scooby doo, spiderman, indiana jones and robots. It is quite perfect. In fact, I will be sad when those Hallmark ornaments go with the boys some day. I will be sad when one branch does not contain 5 ornaments. I will be sad when my ribbon is symmetrical and evenly spaced.

I need to remind myself of that lately.

KEEP BELIEVING

Today's before and after theme:
My Christmas Present.

Each year my mom and dad struggle with what to get my siblings and me for Christmas. Two years ago, they gave us the. best. present. ever. They decided to repeat it this year:

I took this BEFORE picture of the present over Thanksgiving



While I do not yet have an ACTUAL AFTER picture yet, tonight we had a glimpse of what it will look like:



I think I will wait to explain to the boys exactly how THIS BEFORE present translates into several packages of frozen beef AFTER. Right now, thanks to Mom asking them if they wanted to see their mom's present, they are just worried how we will keep these things in our backyard. Our neighborhood bylaws include a no-fence policy.

By the way, I actually COOKED that steak, sweet potato and broccoli tonight. The steak was only slightly overdone, but the wine overshadowed that. Grilled steak necessitates red wine as an accompaniment.

KEEP BELIEVING

A few random thoughts and events.

1) My van has fruit flies. I know fruit flies need some sort of feeding/mating/breeding/hatching ground. The thought of finding whatever in my van that is their feeding/mating/breeding/hatching ground is more disturbing to me than the fruit flies. So, I live with the fruit flies now.

2) Grant lost his front tooth yesterday - the one that has been dangling from one side for two weeks, but would not fall out. A neighbor popped him in the mouth with a toy gun. Wish I had thought of that. Or that it was legal. I KID. I KID!

3) My kids awoke at 5:30 today. Well, one did. He was crying that his lost tooth was gone from his pillow, but nothing was there. I told him to check again. Turns out, when he turned on the light, he found a huge pile of fairy dust that looks a lot like glitter leftover from his last project and $2. His squeal woke up Gavin. Neither fell back asleep, but Grant laid his head back down very happily on the other side of the bed. That fairy dust was too messy. Now I am washing his stinkin' sheets that I just washed 3 days ago. Damn tooth fairy!


4) I miss cooking. I am no longer good at it. Groceries rot in my fridge.

5) Lately my kids are driving me nuts. They are whining and fighting and seem to have a severe case of cabin fever. And it is only NOVEMBER. Thanksgiving at my mom and dad's with room to roam should be proper medication for this fever.

That's it for now.

KEEP BELIEVING

Gavin and Grant recently had some opportunity to spend some time with this amazing thing called THE SAME GENDER.

Here is a bit of what they did.