I Forgot These

The first body part Cy learned wasn't his nose or ears. It was his tongue. And he's been lovin' it ever since.

This is the way he kisses too.

We might hold the record for the 4 biggest mouths under one roof.

New Pictures

The boys and I were outside playing after dinner, so I grabbed my camera and took some quick pictures. You'll probably see dinner on their faces.

Cy looks SO old to me here!
If it wasn't against everything I'm about, I'd post a picture of C so you could all see the resemblance. Cy looks just like her. We haven't seen her since she was about 18 mos., but the similarities are striking. I can see K and J in him as well, but we see C more than anyone. Is this alphabet thing getting old?

Daddy starts them early.

Sweet face and pizza sauce.

Will's the next Zoolander. This is his Blue Steel.
Cracks. me. up.

The Chapman Family

I'm still stunned and sickened by the tragedy this family is enduring. There is a blog set up in Maria's memory where you can leave your condolences for the Chapmans. I know many of you have grown up on Steven's music just like I have. The link is below if you are interested.

In Memory of Maria

SCC and American Idol

I was prepared to blog about how excited I am about the AI finale tonight and that David Cook won! I think he's fabulous. But now, I can't. I just read about Steven Curtis Chapman's daughter, and I am physically sick at my stomach. His youngest daughter, Maria I believe, was killed after being hit by a car driven by her teenage brother in their driveway. A complete accident and unbelievable tragedy. Every parent's worst nightmare. I can't even imagine what any of them are going through right now. I pray that God will give them rest and peace and eventual healing. Maybe He be glorified.

Please pray...

Chunky Milk

*Another cross-posted story*

Chunky Milk

Some days motherhood is such an easy, joyful experience. Some days it sucks the life out of you. Some days you’re just trying to survive.

My youngest son, Cy, had a 104.3 degree fever last week. A fever this high should require immediate attention by a doctor and some sort of fast-acting medication. Instead, it requires the 25-pound squirming, whining ball of fire to lie on top of his mommy for a good 24 hours. There was very little sleep for me, although I guess Cy was pretty comfy as he drifted in and out of sleep all afternoon and night. The next morning, I felt like death. I had not had any sleep, and I started the day with cramps. Fill in the blanks there. It was not a good day. I struggled all day to be nice to my sons. I wanted to crawl into my bed and sleep all day, but that wasn’t an option.

Every whine sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard. Every request for food or drinks or help in the bathroom took all my energy to complete. I took a lot of deep breaths that day, especially as my oldest son refused to nap. I had finally gotten Cy to nap in his bed—this was my chance! But Will was not so cooperative. There went the hope for a little catch-up sleep.

Will’s been learning a song at preschool about the Fruit of the Spirit in Galatians. We practice it at home, so I constantly have the running list in my head. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. I’m pretty sure I had none of those that day. Maybe they were lurking somewhere deep down, but they were definitely not on the surface and not evidenced to my kids.

There are days when I feel like a good mom, when I take my kids to the library or the park, when I get them to eat vegetables even if they don’t know it, when I have quality time with each of them. Then there are days like the one last week, when I actually run out of shows on the DVR because I’ve been sitting on the couch for so long just trying to get my baby to sleep only to have to wake him up just to take his temperature (rectally, no less) to make sure he’s still under 105 degrees, when I yell at my three-year-old for something ridiculous and feel horrible afterward, when I find chunky milk clinging to the sides of a sippy cup in the corner of the house that needs to be cleaned desperately. I try to remember that every mom has days just like this. I’m not alone. Thankfully, we get to start fresh the next day. And that’s just what I did. This time, I even mopped.

Potty Mouth

I've written several essays/stories for the local mom's website lately. I realized that I haven't been posting any of the same material here. So, I'm going to start cross-posting a little b/c a lot of you have no idea what website I write for (and I'm not going to tell you b/c that would reveal a little too much info. for my comfort). So, here's one for a laugh.

Potty Mouth

Have you ever heard the stereotype that preachers’ kids are the worst? My husband is a Children’s Pastor, and I’m sure hoping it’s not true. The fear set in when my oldest son was only a year and a half.

We were sitting at the dinner table together one night when he gave us a little scare and a big laugh. Out of nowhere, Will stabbed two pinto beans with his tiny fork. He brandished it like a warrior going to battle and yelled, “Big F***er!” Our eyes got as big as saucers, and I immediately started laughing hysterically. My dear husband didn’t laugh for fear of causing a repeat performance (at church or the grandparents’ house, no doubt). As soon as we made eye contact, though, it was all over. We were both cracking up. Knowing that there was no way he knew or had even heard the F-word at 18 months, I was not worried. I knew he must have been saying something else. I just had to figure out what it was.

“Will, what did you just say?”

“BIG F***ER!”

“What?”

“BIG F***ER!”

“Big what, Sweetie?”

“BIG F***ER!”

It was going downhill fast. The more he said it, the louder he got. And the louder he got, the funnier it became. It was a lost cause... until he held up his fork, showed it to me, and said it again.

“Bean forker.”

Of course.

Shoe Shopping for a Cause

One of my favorite brands of kids' shoes, Pediped, is now offering a sale on select styles of their adorable shoes with HALF of all sales going to the Make a Wish Foundation. If your kids need shoes, check it out.