s h e r i f f

Owen starts flag football next week, and I never even posted about his first season of soccer. He was a goal scoring fool, and I couldn't help but crush on his coach, wink wink.

I served time in Owen's class today. I call it serving time instead of volunteering, cuz when the day is through, mama's throat, back, and feet hurt. I'm plumb tuckered out. I'm amazed his teacher does it all day long, every day. Hats off to those Kindergarten teachers. Hats off!

So, I overheard Owen keeping his fellow classmates in line. "You're not on task, you're supposed to be sitting down, you need to get in line, someone forgot to clean up their mess." Are ya kidding me?! We nicknamed him sheriff at home. Apparently the name, title, and duty, are reestablishing themselves during school time too. Let's just say the little chat about only worrying about yourself, is becoming quite redundant.

Mama finds the sheriff down right exhausting at times, and I've got a hunch his classmates think it entirely annoying. I'm hoping it's like every other childish phase, most of the time vacating in a months stretch or two. Time will tell.

Until then, I guess keeping himself and everyone else in order isn't the worst thing he could be doing, especially when he has a wee one following, mimicking, imitating, impersonating, and down right matching....

his every move!

ight">From Collages

10:21 a.m.

It was 10:21 a.m. when they first laid her on my chest.

I'll never forget that moment.

The smell of her head, the sound of her breathing, the softness of her skin, all of it.

"Nice to meet you," I whispered through the tears.

The nurse slowly turned the blinds in an upward angle and the brightness of the outside light hurt my eyes.

"Is that snow?" I wondered out loud.

"Yes!" she cheered.

"In a city that rarely sees the white stuff, this is a rare gift," she explained, knowing we were new to the area.

A rare gift.

I nodded, like I was agreeing with her, but my mind was wandering in a million other directions.

Thoughts were spinning about this baby on my chest, I wondered what she would be like, look like and would she really resemble me or parallel her dad, and what would she care about, fancy or hold dear?

I remember that.

The absolute wonderment and intense intimidation of this,

my "rare gift",

laid peacefully on my chest at 10:21 a.m.

Payton celebrated her 11th birthday last month. I looked through my picture files and although there's an abundance of great snapshots of the kid, I really liked this one.

 I thought it proclaimed, "PAYTON" so very well. 

Just 11, but still it seems,

 a lot of those questions I craved,

the ones floating aimlessly, with such uncertainty, the morning of her birth...

 reveal themselves and become more apparent. 

A vision of my frightened, exhausted self emerges.

What I would give to tell her now,

Don't be afraid.

She's going to be pretty and kind and good.

She will be smart, hard working, responsible and a tremendous help to you. 

She's going to be passionate about soccer and running, competitive and determined with an inner drive that will have you wondering where it came from and wishing you had it!

She'll keep you on your toes spiritually and push you to be better.

 She'll be goofy and fun and you'll enjoy spending time with her. You'll be close and get along. She'll be your fashion consultant and youngest confidant. 

Then one day you'll realize,  

 more than any other thing, she will fill a hole in your heart.

An empty, barren space,

an absence of a sister,

filled with the presence of a daughter.

A rare gift.

One you will treasure and thank Heavenly Father for,

every, single day.

h o l i d a y

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for the soul

(Logan Ladies, some, but sadly, not ALL)

We become the person we want to be, when we BE the person we want to become.

(can't remember who said it, but mama like)

When I visit my "ladies" I come away wanting to BE so much more than I am, because they give me the desire to live better and the confidence to spread my wings and TRY. Amidst engrossing conversations, a few tearful moments, deeeelicious food, and a whole lot of laughs, I learned a lot of worthy things on my mama hiatus. Putting my Time Out For Women, free, leather bound journal to use, I jotted some "worthies" on the miniature, striped paper, and days later when I pulled the petite book from my bag, reading over the lines, a flood of emotions rushed over me.

Oh, how I missed the "ladies."

Visits together

are like therapy for the soul.

Thank you for reminding me,

to share from the heart
to not let our dreams think we've forgotten them
to pick one thing and do it well
to focus on the things people can't see not just the things they can
some things are more important than others
image melts away fast
the influence of a good women lasts
which wolf will win, the one you feed
gently apply, don't pump (insider)
Emily is, most certainly, the angel of the school (insider)
Tower of spending (insider)
StrOganoff, NOT StrAganoff, Stephano! (I am laughing as I type, Em!)

Lastly,

It's not what you do, but how you make people FEEL.

*****************************************************

Ladies, as you know, I'm usually FULL of words,

but to find the right ones to thank you is seemingly perplexing.

Plainly put but most sincere,

your friendship is invaluable to me.

Loves.........

the mr.

From Collages

He's getting big,

and

MAMA DON'T LIKE!

Baby, oh baby, stop growing up so fast.

this and that, and a whole lot of grateful

 

When you live in a small home with 6 people, you need to be organized.

Well, we're NOT.

Bob argued, "You're TERRIBLY unorganized!"

Before I could hang my head and sulk, he finished with, "....and I'm even worse!"

He was forgiven.

 Consequently, Friday date night tuned into a mission of organization. We hit Sonic first for our favorite drinks, accompanied by piping hot, salty, delicious tots and then headed to Lowes where we strolled the aisles gathering "this and that" with high hopes of "this and that" restoring order to our noticeably unorderly home.

The next day was spent cleaning, taking loads of unused "this and that's" to Goodwill. Hanging and assembling our new "this and that's" so that shelves and hooks could house the backpacks, jackets, swim bags, soccer duffels, and everything else that didn't have an official dwelling spot besides right smack in the middle of my floor!

 I concede, Bob spending the day checking off items on my long list of, "Please Honey Do!"

.....totally my love language.

Watching him measure, hang, and load hooks with kid's garb, knowing I won't have to trip on another backpack, made me want to marry him all over again.

Things are in somewhat better order, and it feels nice.

I'll sit back and sip on "nice" for a day or two, cuz Mama knows...

 it won't last long.

__________________________________________________________________________________

During the weekend rally to institute order round' here, I came to a pretty BIG realization.

Our house is small, filled with little people and loads of little things,

and that can sometimes feel cramped.

Then I watched the kids help Bob and I all day, stopping now and then, to play an imaginary game together or grab snacks from the cupboard and run around the yard laughing, sharing Goldfish.

In the midst of me worrying about what we didn't have I shined the the flashlight of my attention on what we did.

Suddenly, cramped felt pretty good.

Cramped doesn't feel alone.

Cramped feels FULL, and FULL of LOVE makes a happy home, no matter the size or value.

For my home,

and especially my little lovies,

  abiding within,

I'm a whole lot of grateful. 

******************************

Push STOP on the Good Noise player located on the upper right. Play the video below.

Prepare for wet eyes and a warm, melted heart.