the crossley clan

Tommy is in a special class that helps him gather tools to deal with his sensory needs, and improve his speech.  It has been the biggest blessing of our year! One of the things he loves in his classroom is the indoor sandbox.  Since he is on break for the summer, I wanted to make him one at home.  After doing a bit of research, I decided a classic indoor sandbox was either 1) not aesthetically pleasing, or 2) not in my price range.  I put the idea on the backburner until I found myself wandering around Target and found this on sale:

It got the gears moving, and I started wandering with a purpose.  I ended up finding a tub and stand that was 1) aesthetically pleasing! and 2) in my price range!

Here's a little inspiration if you are still looking for a teacher's gift. :)

Supplies:

• Gift card of your choice
• One, two, or more, scrapbook-y paper
• Paper cutter, or scissors
• Glue Stick
• Picture corners
• Kid to glue and/or sign their name

Firstly, print out the template of A Teacher's Gift, and trim to the border.


Secondly, glue (or have your sweetling glue) the template to first scrapbook-y paper. Trim to your liking.  Repeat with second scrapbook-y paper, and so on and so forth...

Finally! I saw a recipe binder cover and dividers that gave me inspiration to make my own.  Email me if you'd like a copy. 

I made dividers for:

• beverages and appetizers
• breads
• breakfast
• desserts
• main dishes
• crockpot main dishes
• soups and salads
• vegetables and side dishes

I don’t know really why it’s taken me so long to post my essays, but this is (finally) the final one.  I received an A- on this one but she said it was a great essay and a nice finish to English 101.

How to Stop the Torture of Our Young Families

Torture is illegal in the United States of America, yet it happens to mothers and fathers of newborns in this country every day. Walk down the maternity ward halls of any hospital and the screams of women in anguish will assault your ears. Scenes of doctors and their assistants tending to writhing women and stunned fathers will assault your eyes. It is your favorite prime-time drama come to life, though not as entertaining as it is on the television. This is not the torture I am alluding to because all is forgotten when the purple, gooey, crying, pooping, and indeed precious babies make their first appearances. Loved ones arrive, cameras start flashing, and phone calls are placed. The new mothers are inundated with congratulations and best wishes. The doctors sign off that the new families are free to go home and everyone waves goodbye with smiles on their faces.

The dazed, but happy, new parents make it home that first day and hopefully climb into bed to rest between feedings and other necessities through the night. Then the sun rises and the alarm clock goes off. This is where the torture begins. The husbands turn off the alarm, shower, dress for work, and kiss their wives and newborns goodbye. The wives are left to fend for themselves and to figure out how to keep alive these no-longer-purple, gooey, crying, pooping, and indeed precious babies. Worse still, some of these mothers may have older children demanding their time and energy. The poor husbands drag themselves into work where they are expected to perform at 110% with little sleep and their new little families occupying the whole of their minds.

Some people may have the luxury of having extended family nearby that are willing to spend time helping their loved ones adjust to having a new baby, but this luxury is becoming rare. In a global reaching society, couples go where the job takes them. They leave their families of origin to start working on their future together, which usually includes starting their own family. The couple may be established enough to know a few people. A caring fellow church-goer, friend, or neighbor might stop in during those first few days to clean up the dishes, put in a load of laundry or drop off dinner. These acts of love are cherished and appreciated, but the real help, the husbands, are at work and unavailable.

When the husbands do come home from work, they barely have time to breathe as they assume their second job, known as father. The wives may get a bit of a reprieve, but it does not last long because their husbands need a good night sleep for work the next day. A husband may be charitable and surrender a few hours of sleep so his wife can gain a few extra hours of sleep. This act of love is also cherished and appreciated, but it is never enough for the wife to recuperate. The husband’s sacrifice shows on him in the morning and wears him down during the day. This can go on for months and wreaks havoc on these distressed parents of newborns. These new parents of newborns are enduring unnecessary suffering and the cost is dear.

I know about this kind of torture because it happened to me. Thirteen hours of labor zapped me of every ounce of energy I had and four days in the hospital swallowed most of my mother’s vacation time and most of my husband’s allotted time away from work. I had three more days at home with my mom and husband, and then I had to say goodbye to them on the same morning. It was too soon and more than overwhelming – it was traumatic. I can safely say that was the day I started developing postpartum depression. MGH Center for Women’s Mental Health reported that up to 15% of new mothers develop moderate to severe postpartum depression, and that statistic shows only those who were honest about their postpartum state. If I only take the statistic at face value, it means that one to two out of every ten new mothers will suffer from this condition. I know better, though, because I can look at my friends and tell you that at least five out of every ten of them suffer or have suffered moderate to severe postpartum depression. Our society is finally starting to accept that new fathers can be susceptible to depression as well as they struggle to meet work and home demands. New fathers may not be vocal about their baby blues, or try to seek help, and that can only throw water into an already sinking ship. (Postpartum, Friedman)

Depression isn’t the only thing new mothers and fathers are vulnerable to. Medical bills are sent to their homes almost immediately, which lends speed to an already quickly draining bank account, as parents run to the store for more diapers, diaper rash cream, wipes, onesies, burp clothes, and the list goes on. Stress levels rise, as well as poor tempers. Fighting erupts where there had not been fighting before because adding financial strain on top of an already too-challenging situation can be explosive. Rifts in a once loving relationship open and sometimes neither party has the energy to work on closing the gaps again. The home that was once a sanctuary is now more like a war-zone.

It is interesting to think that generations before us had the same challenges, yet the problem is growing, not shrinking. Speaking of the group at large, why is the older generation not protecting the younger generation from the same fate? Over 50 other nations have seen the light, have righted the wrongs done to past families, and have successfully applied the solution – it is called paid paternity leave (Paid, Crary). Wake up, America, and get with the program! The Family and Medical Leave Act is nothing to brag about: up to twelve weeks of unpaid leave and no guarantee of the same job after the leave is spent. (Family, dol.gov)

California was the first in the U.S. to step out ahead of the pack in 2004 and put into action a paid paternity leave plan. The Paid Family Leave program, or the PFL program, works as an insurance to which employees contribute a small, affordable portion of their paycheck. When the time arrives, that employee can take advantage of this insurance and take up to six weeks partially paid family leave. (Paid, Guerin)

New Jersey joined California in 2009 with a similar program in which employees can receive up to two-thirds of their annual salary for six weeks. Washington D.C.’s program is weak, with too many restrictions, but at least they have something. It is more than can be said of our country’s other 45 continental United States. Our very own Evergreen State passed a paid family leave bill in 2007, but could not follow through with the execution. It was originally postponed until 2009, then again to 2012, and now it has been postponed again until 2015. I hope that our state will use the eight years to get its act together. (Paid, Guerin)

I am not asking for free hand-outs to people who have chosen to have children because I believe in working by the sweat of your brow, bearing the consequences of your actions, and reaping what you sow – I am American, after all. California and New Jersey prove that paid paternity leave programs work. I am calling to the remaining states to create and carry out a program of their own to help new families thrive. With a venue for employees to make smart decisions in preparing for the homecoming of their purple, gooey, crying, pooping, and indeed precious babies, families and businesses can glean the benefits.

A flexible, effective employee-funded program might offer one month, and up to six weeks, of partially to full paid paternity leave, based on what the employee contributes. Employers would then be held more accountable to work with their employees to find the best plan for their leave. The employer may be willing to let the employee take all 4-6 weeks consecutively, or perhaps three consecutive weeks can be taken and then some days off here and there to fulfill the remaining week or weeks of paternity leave. The appropriate plan of attack will need to be decided between employer and employee.

Paid paternity leave provides fathers and mothers the opportunity to work together to create and maintain a loving, functioning environment for their newborn in those first vital weeks. Parents of newborns will be able to help each other, work as a team, and maybe stave off the moderate to severe depression that afflicts so many parents. Working fathers will be able to perform better at their job knowing that they have to time to care for themselves and their growing families.

With the compassion and backing of our governments and businesses, our country can expel the torture of its young families. Young parents will be able to raise the next generation from the start the right way, because they were able to take care of themselves. Depression rates may fall, financial nooses may loosen and relationships may flourish. Let us show the world that we, too, take pride in our families.

My third essay assignment was by far the hardest one for me.  I was asked to write about one of several essay excerpts my teacher presented to us and I chose this one (trust me – this was one of the best ones):

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From “Living Like Weasels” by Annie Dillard

What does a weasel think about? He won't say. His journal is tracks in clay, a spray of feathers, mouse blood and bone: uncollected, unconnected, loose leaf, and blown.

I would like to learn, or remember, how to live. ..I don't think I can learn from a wild animal how to live in particular--shall I suck warm blood, hold my tail high, walk with my footprints precisely over the prints of my hands?--but I might learn something of mindlessness, something of the purity of living in the physical sense and the dignity of living without bias or motive. The weasel lives in necessity and we live in choice, hating necessity and dying at the last ignobly in its talons. I would like to live as I should, as the weasel lives as he should. And I suspect that for me the way is like the weasel's: open to time and death painlessly, noticing everything, remembering nothing, choosing the given with a fierce and pointed will.

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I was given a B+ for this one because my teacher felt I assumed too much about the author and her intention regarding her essay.

Essay Three: The Human Folly

Either humans do have not a clue how to live, or Annie Dillard has gone mad. While she admits she cannot find all the answers from a wild animal, she believes she can “learn, or remember, how to live.” She sees clarity in the weasel’s life because it is void of complex thought and emotion. A weasel lives peacefully with only what is necessary, while humans do not appreciate what we have and envy what we do not have. Dillard states, “I would like to live as I should, as the weasel lives as he should… choosing the given with a fierce and pointed will.” laying aside her cognitive mind and her ability to choose. Happily and without hesitation she would take what is thrust upon her.

It is odd for Dillard to state that she has not yet learned how to live. She is, in fact, alive when writing this piece, so what is she really saying? The answer goes beyond simply admiring a serene animal in its element. She believes there are so many problems in her life that she can no longer remember how to be happy. She even questions if she ever learned how to be happy, or in her words, “learn{ed} how to live.” Poor choices (she does not say whose choices) have pushed her to a point where she wants to abandon her life as she knows it. She is not content with the way she is living and she finds herself wishing to give up her ability to choose. The ability to choose is one of the major things that separate humans from animals but she would give it up, claiming nothing, and living only in the present.

Dillard sees purity of life coming from “mindlessness”. In her eyes, a wild animal is mindless, meaning either the creature has no mind at all, or that it has lost its mind. Without a presence of mind it can go on “without bias or motive.” I would argue, though, that even the smallest creature has a motive: to live or to die, to sink or to swim, to eat or to be eaten. An animal fends for itself, finding food and safety in order to survive. It is aware of danger and remembers where and how to avoid it.

Humans have also done this well, and perhaps better. When inspiration hit, we invented more efficient tools. When we focused our will we discovered better and more reliable ways to do things. We pooled our resources, helped our neighbors and became a community. I say perhaps humans have done better because even though we have achieved so much, recklessness came with success. We started to take for granted all that our ancestors worked so hard for. Dillard accuses humans of hating “necessity” or those basic things needed to keep us alive. She finds us frivolous and vain and naïve to the fact that we will not be taking our material possessions with us to the grave. She sees present day humans as wasteful creatures, hating that which would ultimately make us happy and instead choosing what is dispensable. It can be hard to disprove her when creators of energy drinks are making millions because we down high doses of caffeine each day instead of taking care of one of our most basic needs – sleep.

Is it too late for humans? Have animals surpassed us when it comes to real happiness? It is easy to agree with Dillard that an animal might have the better life when we view our world as a whole. Americans live lavishly compared to other nations on this earth, and it is a shame. Our dumps could provide for whole villages; our junk could offer more comfortable living for those in need. Instead of fixing a bike, we throw it away and buy a new one. We have lost (or forsaken) our skill for improvement, for creativity, for industry.

We may have drifted too far and need to come back to “live as {we} should.” It is because we do have a choice, however, that we are able to reflect on what needs to change and resolve ourselves to that change. How silly and how sad it would be to give up our ability to choose. Generations before us have poured themselves into the cause of better living. To throw away all their hard work would be a tragedy. Dillard claims that seeing everything and remembering nothing is better, but remembering nothing is not better. We must remember what we see. It is in forgetting what we have seen that we mistake indulgence with necessity.

Animals survive quite well without luxury and with little resources, though living in survival mode is not the better life. Instead of envying the weasel’s peacefulness, Dillard should make her own. She can take charge and make her life what she wants it to be, as we all can. Choice gives us the ability to shrug off the bad and embrace the good. The pursuit of happiness is ours if we want it.

Annie Dillard may be mad, but she makes a good point. With a bit of observation, we can learn a few things from the weasel: resourcefulness, tranquility and humility. The trick is to take what we learn and apply it to our lives. With determination and a will to be reckoned with, what she calls “purity of life” can be found almost anywhere – the choice is ours.

I got a B- on my second essay but I’m okay with it because I was on vacation and forgot to write it until the day before I needed to turn it in.

Our assignment for our fourth essay was to take one our previous essays and give it a good scrub.  I spent a considerable amount of time on the scrub and got an A for my efforts.  Ya! My teacher’s notes began with, “O, rock on, Keri!” I can’t get better feedback than that.

I’ve included both essay two and four incase you’d like to do a comparison.

 

Essay Two

Camping with Just Three Stakes

When I come across someone who says they don’t like camping, I find myself feeling as though I have to fix their issues and persuade them to try again. Surely they haven’t abided by the Three Stakes rule! It is possible for anyone to have an excellent camping experience when you have a few things right: a good camp site, a good fire, and a good menu.

Research is your best tool before you take off to your destination. Where do you want to go? Is it a soothing beach, a lush green forest, a desert oasis, or even a snow -covered cave? One of the biggest deciding factors is personal preference. But adequate space to roam is a must. Chances are, if you end up at a packed camp ground, you are not going to have room to stretch your legs without bumping into this or that camping neighbor.

Use the online resources like reserveamerica.com or, if you are local, parks.wa.gov. These sites can help you narrow down your search and help you find a spot that will meet your needs and your preferences. Instead of running into people, you may just run into some nature. Be it a crab, a rabbit, a coyote, or a deer. And don’t forget your camera!

Once you arrive at your campsite, first things first: build up that fire. A good fire is essential. It cooks your food, keeps you warm, gives you light and gives you protection. The best thing about a fire is it creates a gathering place. No matter what you have as far as games or toys or even environment, people will always gather at the fire. The way fiery logs pop and crackle provide the feeling of calm that everyone longs for when camping. Once in a while the logs have to be turned and you receive as a gift for your hard work the spectacle of glowing embers of different colors to draw you in and nearly mesmerize you.

Any John Doe can buy a modern fire starter at a grocery store, but real pride comes from building it the old fashioned way. It takes a fair amount of skill to build a successful fire. You can use the bird’s nest, the teepee, or another method that is your particular favorite. A few dry leaves, little twigs, and some pitch from a pine tree if you are lucky enough, will get the spark going with a bit of love and attention (although I won’t tell anyone if you bring a bit of dryer lint to help things along). And then it’s all about watching for the right time to add bigger sticks and then logs, layer by layer.

Once it’s nice and hot, bring on the food! You cannot have a bad camping trip when you have a bowl of steaming peach cobbler warming your hands as you sit in front of a fire with good friends or agreeable family. Scratch that. Even if you have bickering family around you, something magical happens when you sit down in front of a fire with a steaming bowl of peach cobbler. Once the delicious flavors of the peaches, the juices, and (oh!) the cake batter hit your tongue, nothing else matters. Let them quarrel – you have more important things to do. Get a second bowlful and find that perfect seat where the smoke doesn’t follow you.

Yes, the food makes the camping trip. And again, you have to do some planning ahead of time so you don’t spend your whole day cooking. Let the Dutch oven do that for you. Type in “Dutch oven cooking” into your internet browser and let the recipes come to you. If you want to be a gourmet chef, check out foodnetwork.com. If you’re aiming for some homegrown recipes try papadutch.home.comcast.net. Just make sure one of the recipes you prepare for is peach cobbler. There are a bunch of recipes out there, so how do you find the best one? You could try each one and use a rating system to find your favorite, or you could try an easier technique. The best answer is to go off of referrals. Which one does your friend, mother, co-worker, or Facebook pal love? Is it the one using apricot nectar or sprite? Does it use evaporated milk or sugar, or both? It could just be the simple recipe that calls for some butter on top.

The rain may fall or the temperature may drop to an unexpected low. You might have had an encounter with an angry bug or forgotten your toothbrush. But remember why you wanted to go camping in the first place. Perhaps it was to avoid the nagging housework and simplify at least one weekend. Perhaps it is because you desperately need release the suppressed Boy Scout within. Or did you need to update that picture of a tree because you easily forget what they look like?

All of those answers suggest low expectations. Keep them low. Enjoy the peace that abounds in nature. The rain, the boo-boos, the goof-ups and the forgotten items can easily take a back seat along your trip as long as you abide by the Three Stakes rule. Grab a camping spot with room to run, take pride in building your fire, and plan meals that can cook themselves and wow the crowd. Go get your dirt on! Oh, and if you can, leave those bickering relatives at home.

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Essay Four

Camping with Just Three Stakes

If there is one thing that can leave you rested and relaxed or battered and broken, it is a camping trip. How can a camping trip end with such different results? The answer, my friend, lies within the Three Stakes rule. Follow this rule and you will be on your way to rest and relaxation. If you do not follow this rule, you may find yourself battered and broken by the end of the trip. It is possible to have an excellent camping experience when you have a few things right: a good camp site, a good fire, and a good menu. There are a lot of ways to camp but I’m going to focus on tent camping. Start a list of supplies you think you will need for the trip and I will help you add some more useful things as we go. Online research can be your best friend, so search for a standard camping supply list if you are at a loss for what you will need to bring with you.

Where do you want to go camping? Is it a soothing beach, a lush green forest, a desert oasis, or even a snow -covered cave? One of the biggest deciding factors is personal preference. Adequate space is a must and to get it you will need to reserve your camping spot well in advance. Use the online resources like reserveamerica.com or, if you are local, parks.wa.gov. These sites can help you narrow down your search and help you find a spot that will meet your needs and your preferences. Each of these sites will give you maps of campgrounds, what is standard for individual campsites within a campground, and a campground’s nearby amenities. Choose a location that is a quick walk to a restroom but not right up against another camping site. These types of sites get taken quickly because the experienced camper knows they are the best; so again, book your site well ahead of time. Chances are, you will have plenty of room to stretch your legs and enough quiet to enjoy nature. Most importantly, do not forget your camera so you can capture nature in action!

Once you arrive at your campsite, build up that campfire. A good fire is essential. It cooks your food, keeps you warm, and gives you protection. The best thing about a fire is it creates a gathering place. No matter what you have as far as games or toys or even environment, people will always gather at the fire. Fiery logs pop and crackle in a way that provides a feeling of calm everyone longs for when camping. Once in a while the logs have to be turned and you receive the spectacle of glowing embers to draw you in and nearly mesmerize you. Put firewood on your list of supplies to bring with you because you will not like the high prices the campground will offer. This will also save you time from having to scout for firewood when you reach camp.

It takes a fair amount of skill to build a successful fire. Any John Doe can buy a fire starter at a grocery store, but real pride comes from building your camp fire the old fashioned way. You can use the bird’s nest, the teepee, or another method that is your particular favorite. If these terms are unfamiliar to you, add them to your research-on-the-internet-before-your- trip list. A few dry leaves, thin twigs, and some pitch from a pine tree if you are lucky enough, will get the spark going with a bit of love and attention (although I won’t tell anyone if you bring a bit of dryer lint to help things along). From there, it is all about watching for the right time to add bigger sticks and then logs, layer by layer.

After setting up your campsite – including the fire – and exploring a bit of the outdoors, your appetite will roar and only a delicious meal will appease that appetite. Once your expertly built fire is nice and hot, bring on the food! Campfire cooked food can be some of the best tasting food you will ever eat. Again, decide on a plan of attack ahead of time so your day is not spent cooking. The Dutch oven can do the cooking for you. Type “Dutch oven cooking” into your internet browser and let the recipes come to you. You may find some Dutch oven specific websites or you can search for Dutch oven recipes within websites such as foodnetwork.com. If the famous chefs or their recipes from that website intimidate you, try the simple yet delightful, homegrown recipes at papadutch.home.comcast.net. Your goal includes understanding how to use and cook with a Dutch oven and compiling a list of recipes you are going to cook on your trip. Cook at least one Dutch oven meal each camp day and it will be considerably freed up. If you only have one Dutch oven, ask to borrow one from someone you know. One is great, but two is better.

When writing out your trip’s meals, make sure to plan and pack ingredients for peach cobbler. It will not disappoint you or your camping compadres. There are a bunch of peach cobbler recipes out there, so how do you find the best one? You could try each recipe beforehand and use a rating system to find your favorite, or you could try an easier technique, ask for referrals. Which one does your friend, mother, co-worker, or Facebook pal love? Is it a recipe that uses apricot nectar or sprite? Does it call for evaporated milk or sugar? Whatever the recipe calls for, the magic happens inside the Dutch oven. A camping trip cannot go wrong when you have a bowl of steaming peach cobbler warming your hands as you sit in front of a fire with good friends or family. Scratch that, even if you have bickering family around you, something happens when you sit down in front of a fire with a bowl of steaming peach cobbler. Once the delicious flavors of the peaches, the juices, and (oh!) the cake batter hit your tongue, nothing else matters in that moment. Let the grumpy people quarrel – you have more important things to do, such as getting a second bowlful and finding that perfect seat where the smoke doesn’t follow you.

The rain may fall or the temperature may drop to an unexpected low. You might have had an encounter with an angry bug or forgotten your toothbrush. But remember why you wanted to go camping in the first place. Did you want to avoid the nagging housework and simplify at least one weekend, or because you desperately need to release that suppressed Boy Scout within? Did you need to update that picture of a tree because you easily forget what they look like?

The answers to those questions suggest low expectations. Keep them low. Enjoy the peace that abounds in nature. The rain, the boo-boos, the goof-ups and the forgotten items can easily take a back seat on your trip as long as you abide by the Three Stakes rule. Grab a camping spot with plenty of leg room, take pride in building your fire, and plan meals that can cook themselves and wow the crowd. Go get your dirt on! Oh, and if you can, leave those bickering relatives at home.

As my 30th birthday quickly approaches, I’ve been doing some self-inventory and making a bucket list.  I’ve checked a couple things off already – like skydiving – but I’m sure I’ll be adding to it as well.  Two of them I’m doing simultaneously: college and fitness.

I joined an eight week boot camp and let me tell you – it is quite similar to real boot camp.  Pete had to stay home the day after my first class because I could not move.  Embarrassing, yes, and funny.

And college – online, that is.  You’ll notice that none of my blog posts are grammatically correct and I’d like to keep it that way.  But now that I’ve officially finished my first college course, I can say that I can write the right way, too.  I wrote five essays over the course of eleven weeks and Pete really, really wants me to post them.  They are not gems by any means, but these are things that I’m fond of and am proud of.

Essay One: (I got a B+ on this one)

(No title)

My perspective of life has been significantly changed by pain. Before pain I was a blissfully selfish person. My list of priorities was simple: me. It was easy to memorize and easy to maintain. What could others do for me? “Use ‘em or lose ‘em” was a phrase I used on many occasions. True responsibility was passed on to the nearest person. I had a good excuse for not doing something that was not convenient for me.

Then pain came. Cruel and unseen, it would attack seemingly at random. Sadness enveloped me and a fear of something I could not identify filled me from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. As my chest became tighter, my breathing became more difficult. Sweat ran down my back, my hands became clammy, my legs ached and my thoughts ran wild. I had no control and no knowledge of how to combat such a shrewd enemy.

My job was affected, my husband was affected, my day-to-day life was affected so I recognized that I was going downhill fast. In desperation, I confided in a good friend who I thought could help me. They were inspired to give me the name of a man who changed my life forever.

In just a few minutes of my first meeting with him, my enemy was given a name: anxiety. Pssscht! Anxiety was for a weak person and I wasn’t weak. Now that I knew it was only anxiety, I told myself that I could handle it. I tried imagining myself as a duck – cool and calm in all the places people could see, and I would deal with the rest myself. But it didn’t work. I would lash out or break down without even a real trigger. Realizing that I didn’t want to feel this amount of crazy for the rest of my life I came to the conclusion that I, not even I, couldn’t conquer this on my own.

I made another appointment and crawled back to his office. I admitted it out loud, I was weak. But instead of agreeing with me, he told me that it wasn’t weak to ask for help. In fact, it was the opposite of weak; it was brave. A weak person refuses to admit when he needs help, and ends up sinking because of his pride.

After a while, I gained the necessary tools to overcome the anxiety that held me bound. I started to see my entire world differently and all the people in it. It was as though I had developed a lens of compassion and I yearned to serve those who could use a helping hand. It wasn’t just about me anymore – it couldn’t be. It had almost become my mission to find people who had the same difficulties that I was facing. And after finding them, I often felt an overwhelming desire to help them in what little ways I could. Life was fuller, richer, when I tossed my selfish priority list and opened my eyes and ears to those around me.

Having mastered my anxiety, my husband and I decided it was time to grow our family. We were so swallowed up in getting a house full of gear for an eight pound baby that I didn’t leave room for preparing to deliver that eight pound baby.

We thought we were ready when the day came to meet our little bundle of joy. Then the pain hit. Child birth is pain. Back labor is real pain. I’d heard stories about how pain was involved in delivering a baby and people tried to help me set expectations. They gave me advice in numerous forms to deal with the pain. I took classes with other very pregnant women where we watched movies and learned things like how to breathe funny. All these people told me that I would be okay.

They lied! I was not okay. Breathing funny did not help. The movies I watched did not help. The books I had read did not help. Verbally abusing my unprepared husband did not help. After 4 hours, I threw aside all the garbage that was mucking up my mind and cried for drugs. And guess what? They helped! Oh, those blessed drugs. I love modern medicine.

In fact, love kicked into high gear after my cry for drugs. I loved my anesthesiologist. I loved my husband again. I loved the moment I was in with my beloved family by my side. And then my beautiful little boy made his appearance. Love was not a good enough word to describe the feeling I had toward him. I thankfully found out after their affects had worn off, it was not just the drugs talking. The instant that I held my baby, the pain I had endured through labor and delivery did not matter anymore. And as time went on, it was all but forgotten. That’s why we grew our family a second time and probably will again.

My doctor used to joke that if men had the capability of giving birth, families would only have two children. The couple would each take a turn and then never again. I would laugh and say, “Wow, I haven’t thought of that before! It’s probably true!” But after having two of my own, I have to disagree. I think if that were the case, families would be even bigger. Maybe still not a big as the Duggar family. . . but I digress.

Love. If there is ever a greater teacher than pain, it is love. Yes, pain broke me down but it always passed. What remained was love. Love saw me through and guided me to a happier way of living. After mastering my anxiety I felt a renewed and stronger love toward my fellow man. It dawned on me that people were here together to work together and I finally wanted to join in. I learned that being human was a lovely way to be. Yes, I must add my signature in support of the old adage, “love conquers all.” It has changed my perspective in many splendid ways. It has molded me into a better wife, mother, daughter, sibling, and individual.

If I hadn’t experienced real pain, then I don’t think even now I would be the kind of person to handle real life. I think that is true of just about everyone. That can be said of love as well. If it was not for the real love shown to me from a compassionate counselor, a supportive husband and a sympathetic family I would not have the capability of loving my children the way I do.

I have accepted that pain is inevitable and will find me throughout my life. But I also know that it does not last. I can face the pain in whatever shape it takes, be it mistakes, worries, challenges or any other form because I have faced it before. I have faced it and I have beaten it, with love.

If I can continue to hold on to the love I’ve been blessed with and learn from what pain can teach me then I just may have something to show the next generation. Perhaps they will be able to correct the missteps they are destined to take and find greater meaning through what I can give them: love.

I had a lot of fun putting together Jack’s fourth birthday party. Pinterest was a huge help to inspire me and I found a bunch of things to copy.  This is the end result.

We taped down black tarps from home depot with black duct tape.  Then we went around with a broom as a measuring tool and put down road lines with white duct tape.  I found blow-up road signs and racing banners from Oriental trading.  This was the bulk of the set up – it took four hours in all.  Of course, we could do it in half that time now that we know how to do it.  You know how it is…

We invited our friends to bring their “vehicles” to join in on races and free play.  We think it turned out great and no one got hurt!

We tried our hands at making our own cars, but they didn’t work so we helped things along by setting up a ramp to have them slide down.  I think the kids still had fun making the cars, anyway.

We played, we created, we ate, we hit a pinata and we ate cookies.  I made red ones that said stop and green ones that said go.  I’m really sorry that I don’t have the link of where I found this idea but believe me when I say that I didn’t make this one up.

They were easy to make, were whipped up in no time and served a bunch of people.  That’s a good deal to me!

The party was low-key, fun to do, and made Jack smile.  All in all, I’d call this one a success.