Date

My blogging has been pretty inconsistent.  I find myself thinking about family things I want to record, and then the business of the days creep in, and the posts are never written.  Not today.  Today deserves a post.  One day, if my kids ever take the time to read this blog, I want them to know how much their parents loved each other.  Today is a perfect example.

Aaron asked me on a breakfast date.  It may not sound exciting or romantic to some.  In fact, if I were invited on a breakfast date as a teen, I'm not sure I would have been as enthusiastic as I was this morning.  Dates were meant for weekend nights and required hours of primping and preparation.  When Aaron and I first began dating, I would have a weight like a stone in my stomach and goosebumps all over in nervous anticipation as I waited for him to pick me up. 

This morning, I still felt the thrill.  Instead of butterflies and goosebumps, there was a warmth in my chest and tears stinging my eyes.  The joy!  The joy of going on a date - any date - with my handsome husband!  He had an early morning work call he could take from home, so he suggested we go out to breakfast together afterward.  There was no time to primp.  Lunches needed to be made, laundry started, children fed.  I donned jeans and a teeshirt, noticing more salt than pepper in my hair as I combed it.  Crows feet stamped the corners of my eyes, but they didn't bother me.  They were evidence of years of smiles - most from our 20+ years together.

This is joy.  This is love.  This is the gift.  It is not a free gift.  There is a cost.  Love like this is not a feeling.  It is not fleeting or altered by circumstance.  It is a daily choice.  It is the choice to spend time together whenever possible.  It is the choice to treat someone kindly when they are driving you crazy.  It is the choice to embrace imperfections.  Both people must make these choices over and over and over.  And when that happens, year after year, the result is a quiet, confident love - one that assures you you are are fully known, fully accepted, and fully loved.  It is a beautiful thing. 

So this morning, I am celebrating our marriage.  I'm celebrating our beautifully mundane extraordinary breakfast date.  Today I celebrate us.  I love you, Aaron.

Everything

Text received: I love you.
From that 12 year old man-child.  From the one who is uncertain he wants me beside him as he walks up to his teammates at practice.  Did he really just send this?  At school?  Were his friends around?  Does it matter?  He sent it.

A catch in my throat.  An ache in my chest.  I was okay before this.  I will be okay.  I will be okay.  I will be okay.  I enter Kroger and see a tired looking mom, strapping two wiggly toddlers into the basket, their chubby feet swinging.

I quickly walk past, brushing off the tears that have suddenly appeared on my cheeks.  I am not okay. I am not okay.  I am not okay.

I miss my babies.  I miss them so much it hurts.  Physically.  My arms feel heavy and empty as I walk.  I imagine Caleb's small hand in mine.  Maddie's arm around my waist.  I want to hug Parker and rest my chin on his head.  I want Jack to curl up in my lap.

A big nest empties slowly.  It's deceiving.  A mother of many believes she'll never be alone.  Until she is.  This silence is strange and disconcerting.

And then suddenly the silence is gone.  Four bodies pile into the van, all talking at once, arguing over the radio station, pestering each other, asking a million questions.  I take a deep breath.  I remember.  This, this is what I wanted.  I wanted them.  All of them.  All of their questions, all of their complaints, all at once.  This is what I signed up for.

Their loud conversation continues, but I interrupt them.

"Hey kids?"  [expectant pause]  "Do you know what I love about you?"

[I get an eye roll from some and a grin from others...They've heard this one before.]

"Everything."

(Special thanks to Grammy Susie for that line.)

Nearly a teenager

Dear Parker,
It’s always been a sort of self-imposed, unwritten rule of mine that I have to have a birthday blog post for one child finished before the next sibling’s birthday arrives.  Well, rules are meant to be broken, right?  Here we are, nearly three months after your birthday, on the morning of Caleb’s birthday, and I’m finally ready to record your 11th year and usher in your 12th.

I’m in a hotel room.  Everyone is still asleep.  We are just wrapping up our Dallas house hunting trip.  We found out about one month after your 12th birthday we’d be moving here.  Your eyes lit up.  You are our child - always excited for the next adventure.

Of course, it is bittersweet for you.  You will have difficulty leaving your friends in Kentucky.  You have many circles of friends and have learned just how hard it can be when those circles collide.  You can connect with anyone and often do.  You don’t want anyone to feel left out.  In fact, this year at church, the youth leader sought you out for that very reason.  She wanted you to greet new families at the door during the big Easter service because you put everyone at ease.

At church camp this summer, Ms. Paige kept texting me pictures and updates about how you would jump right up on stage, fearless though unfamiliar with the big 6th, 7th, and 8th graders.  She saw you as confident.  I see even more.  I saw my brave boy in those smiles.  Did you feel totally confident?  Probably not, and that’s okay.  What astounds me is your bravery.  You will always try new things.  You always put yourself out there.  And thank goodness!  Because the world needs more people like you.

You are compassionate, kind, conscientious.  You are respectful, courteous, and caring.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve received a text from a parent following a play date at their home, writing to tell me what a pleasure it was to have you over.  Dude!  I’m not making this stuff up!  While I’m glad you are humble, I hope you are also confident that you are exactly who you are supposed to be.  You are a treasured child of the most high God!  And I know you bring a smile to His face, just as you bring one to mine.

I love you so much, dear boy.  I love your giggles when you watch silly YouTube videos.  I love your fluffy hair.  I love the half moon shape of your eyes when you smile.  I love your huge squeeze hugs.  I love playing games with you, even when you talk smack and utterly destroy me.  I love watching action movies with you.  I love seeing you wrestle and play with your siblings.  I can even appreciate your unrelenting attempts to negotiate, be it for sugar or screen, because it shows your persistence in the midst of failure.

In short, I love you more than words can say or a blog post can contain.  You are my Parkeezee.  Thank you for making me a momma, sweet boy.  Have an awesome 12th year!

Love,
Mom

Why?

"Why do you have to move again?"

That was the question asked by Maddie's best friend when she told her we were moving...again.

My response was swift, simple, and true.  "We don't have to move again...we get to move again.''

So many times when we've moved, Aaron has worked toward a certain angle or position.  In the early days of our marriage I worried that we were simply making our own plans, rather than waiting patiently on God.  With this particular move, though, I feel like God dropped it in our laps and shouted, "Surprise!"  This time, we didn't make the plans.  If anything, we had planned on staying here longer.  I planted a garden for Pete's sake!  When we got the call that the international arm of Aaron's work wanted him in Dallas for a role in a totally new function, we were thrown but excited.  We prayed, asking that if this truly was from God, things would move swiftly and easily.  Two weeks later, our house was on the market.

When we moved back to Kentucky almost 2 years ago, I thought we'd be staying for a good long time.  We bought a home with a large, finished basement (in case grandparents might need to move in one day).  We settled in school district that had a very good elementary, middle, and high school.  I think a part of me thought, This is it.  We're home.  However, it didn't take long for the itch to move to hit us again.  Part of it was simply the shock of being back in the States - culture shock is no joke, friends.  Part of it was just the nature of our nomadic family culture.

Moving breathes life and adventure into our family.  It tightens our bonds as we move to new places and only have each other at first.  It forces us from our comfort zones to step out and meet new people and try new things.  Our whole family loves it.  Earlier this year, Caleb asked almost impatiently, "Mom, when are we moving to a new country?"

I know that sounds weird to most people reading this.  I know we are the oddballs of society.  I'm okay with that.  It's taken me a long time to embrace being different.  I love our nomadic lifestyle.  I realize the thought of moving every 18 months to 3 years sounds like torture to some.  To me, the thought of maintaining a home for 30 years and dealing with the accumulation of stuff sounds frightening.  As it turns out, the world is full of oddballs like us...They are called expatriates.  (More on that some other time.)

Are there drawbacks to this move?  Of course!  Leaving the comfort zone of Kentucky is always challenging.  Though we've done it twice now (2000 and 2013), and it doesn't get easier.  Life here is comfortable.  We know the weather, the roads, the service providers, the neighborhoods, the churches, and most importantly, the people.  Our kids can be involved in a million things because there is always a grandparent or friend able to help with transportation.

Speaking of grandparents, they are all right here.  Let me give you just a smidgeon of the benefits of being surrounded by our awesome family: Want to go on a date night?  Grandma and Grandpa (Karen and Bob) will take the kids for the whole weekend.  Need a cheerleader at any sports event?  Pappy (Mark) will be there and bring the child home if you have to leave early.  Something broken?  Give Papaw (Benny) a call...from handmade leather goods to small engine repair, he is Johnny on the spot.  Have an emergency?  Grammy (Susie) will always answer her phone.  Not only will she pick a child up from school, she'll take him/her out to eat and on a shopping spree while she's at it.

As if leaving family weren't hard enough, I'm also leaving two amazing organizations, Up! and Hand in Hand.  Thanks to the connections made by an incredible woman at our church, Caleb and I have been able to spend some time serving at these places for the last few months.  I found that my sense of dread about sending my little sidekick to kindergarten all day next year had vanished, as I anticipated it would give me more time to serve at these awesome organizations.  This move means I will have to pivot, but God has at least given me a taste of what is possible.  I trust He has great plans for me in Texas.

He has plans for all of us, for our family, and for the family and friends who will remain here.  We are excited about our new adventure but of course find it hard to leave our "home" in Kentucky, populated with old friends, extended family, and amazing grandparents.  To all of you, thank you for making the last two years so wonderful!  You will be missed!

A very late happy birthday

Dear Maddie,

Today is Parker's birthday...and I'm just finishing your birthday blog post.  That means I am a full six months behind.  Wow!

Please believe me when I say I have been composing this post for months.  I have typed it multiple times.  Each time I sit to type, something inevitably needs to be added or altered.  You have changed so very much in the last few months; I simply can't keep up.  Watching you grow in the last 18 months has been like watching a nature program on TV where they keep a camera trained on a blooming flower and utilize the time lapse function.  You blossom before our eyes every single day!

Near your 10th birthday, your culinary talents exploded.  You received a cookbook for Christmas and began cooking full meals (complete with appetizers and desserts) from scratch.  One night you asked if you could make dinner.  I told you I had already planned a meal, but you told me you could handle it.  You weren't kidding.  You opened my cookbook and got to work.  First you diced the onions and peppers, sautéed them, added the black beans and began to whip up the cornbread topping.  Then you decided while the black bean casserole was baking you'd like to make some "Creamy Dreamy Tomato Soup" from your own cook book.  Realizing it only made two servings, you quickly made a second batch, all before your casserole finished baking.  What????!!!  I wouldn't even attempt all that!  We made the little boys wear blindfolds to dinner (your suggestion to limit their negative comments about the appearance of new foods), and dinner was a hit with everyone!  You amaze me, dear girl!

Unprompted, you bathe each evening and request french braids in your hair before bed.  At first glance, this routine may seem unimportant.  I assure you, it is not.  For years, and I mean YEARS, we  suffered the battle-of-the-hair.  Oh the tears!  Oh the many brushes we've tried!  Oh the threats I've made to cut it all off "if it ever gets this tangled again!"  Wisely, you decided there was a better way.  You knew it was easiest to comb when it was still wet from a washing.  You listened to my advice about braiding it before bed.  You have now circumvented all that previous drama with your self-imposed nighttime routine.  Thank you, thank you, thank you a million times over.

You are are a thinker and a teacher at heart.  You have begun teaching your youngest brother math.  Yes, he's a sharp cookie, but I highly doubt without your afternoon tutoring (totally voluntary on both your parts) our preschooler would be able to solve 150 + 150.  His handwriting is also better than his older brothers' thanks to you having him practice on the dry-erase board.

Maddie-Deez, you have an absolute heart of gold.  You care so deeply about others and the world in general.  Learning about world history and wars brings you to tears.  While my heart aches to see you hurting, I hope you never lose the deep compassion you have for everyone.  It is rare and one of your greatest assets.

You are so in tune with your emotions and thoughts that we have begun exploring the idea of an inner child and the importance of self-talk in managing your feelings.  You do an amazing job with that and have learned how to gracefully handle failures and disappointments.  I'm so very proud of you and sincerely hope you are proud of yourself.

There is no way to end this birthday letter.  The changes in you are never-ending.  I am so looking forward to this year and watching you grow and bloom even more.  It's impossible to believe that in six short months you will be 11.  How I wish I could slow the unrelenting march of time.  But I won't even try.  I will simply be thankful to ride the waves you create in this universe.  I will be glad to be the one you affectionately call mom.  I will praise God for my precious daughter.   I love you so much, darling girl!

Love,
Momma  

Home

I want to keep track of our various addresses.  I can never remember where we've lived!  So here goes...

07/2000 - 05/2002  Cincinnati, OH (11330 Southland Drive)

05/2002 - 11/2003 Jacksonville, FL (13136 Quincy Bay Drive)

11/2003 - 05/2005 Batavia, OH  (4092 Woodmont Drive)

05/2005 - 06/2007 Charlottesville, VA (726B Madison Avenue)

06/2007 - 03/2010 Bothell, WA (3402 201st Pl SE)

03/2010 - 04/2013 Louisville, KY  (223 Tucker Station Road)

04/2013 - 09/2014 McKinney, TX (8404 Lonesome Spur Trail)

09/2014 - 06/2017 Singapore (49 Sommerville Estate Rd)

I'm not even sure the earlier dates are correct!  What a crazy ride!

Happy birthday to me

Today I turned 29...again.  It is a Wednesday.  When Aaron flipped on the lights at 6:30, I pulled the covers over my head and used the birthday trump card: "Can I please just sleep in for my birthday?"  The lights went off, and I heard the door shut with a soft click.  What a man!  I fell back asleep to the sounds of the kids getting ready for school.  Ahhhh.

Before everyone left, Maddie came rushing in with the card she'd worked on last night and a gift bag.  Inside I found one of the bath bombs she'd made from the kit she received at Christmas.  She also included nail wraps from a Posh Pack her Grammy sent months ago, some perfume she'd bought on a trip, and a mood ring.  They were such sweet and thoughtful gifts.  I remembered how last night she was upset because she suddenly recalled my birthday was the next day, her dad was out of town until late in the evening, and she couldn't go out to get me a gift.  Now here she was before me with some of her most precious treasures, beaming.

It wasn't long before she was joined by her equally sweet, if less prepared brothers.  Parker offered a big hug.  Jack came in with the resin dragon he'd purchased with allowance money on Fall Break.  He also brought me "breakfast in bed" (the smoothie dad made).  Then Caleb came in with arms overflowing.  Cars, treasure boxes, a game he'd made from a Tinker Crate his Grammy had sent.  He ran out of the room, calling over his shoulder he'd be back with more presents.

I heard Jack say, "Caleb, you should lay off on giving away stuff...Some of it you might want to keep for mom's next birthday!"  That child!

All day long my phone was dinging.  Texts, emails, messages - sweet birthday wishes from friends and family.  Since I stopped posting on Facebook over a year ago, I have, at times, felt disconnected.   I get on  about once a month to read about what is going on in the lives of others, but I've decided it's best in this season of life to take a break from posting and looking at it daily.  To have so many people from all the different paths my life has taken stop and send me a message on my birthday made me feel incredibly loved.  I carried that joy throughout the day.

What a very busy day it was - volunteering at school, lunch with the kids, Valentine's Day party prep, a dental appointment for Jack, playdates.  When I went to pick up the boys from their afternoon play date, I passed Aaron coming home.  By the I arrived at the house, Maddie was busily preparing the birthday cake mix Aaron brought home.  A dozen red roses sat in a vase on the counter next to a bowl of chocolates, sparkling grape juice (as close to wine as I get these days), and a lovely birthday card.  Did I mention Aaron had been out of town this week?  He got in yesterday evening at around ten, worked a full day at the office, then rushed to the store and home to make my day special.  He even put all the kids to bed!

This is truly the best birthday I can remember.  My heart overflows with joy.  A morning under soft covers, precious gifts piled high, kisses from dear children, messages from loving friends and family, a faithful, loving husband, and of course, chocolate.  Thank you, Lord, for this happy, happy birthday!