T E A

I have these amazing sister in laws who have blown the traditional tea party they enjoyed with their grandmother since they were young girls, into a giant themed party every year for the cousins. And although they weren't convinced the Western theme would be good enough to follow the outlandish Hollywood party they threw the previous year, they couldn't have planned a more perfect party for a 7 year old girl who truly needed it.

 I'm grateful for them, for their love of family, and all the time, effort, and  planning spent to create a day filled with fun for my little crew, especially my horse riding, western wearing, pretend barrel racing, cowgirl obsessed girl, who quite possibly was born in the wrong century.

Minus a few mama lectures to my kids about being good sports, I adored this entire day.

And in the midst of all the fun, laughter and love we felt for each other together creating grand memories at Grandma's house, 

I realized we achieved something,

something immeasurable.

Our own little slice of heaven.

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Barrel Racin'

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Ropin' with Grandpa

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Relay racin'

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Little Wranglers

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Pamperin'

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Grub

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Scavenger Hunt

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This post is dedicated to my friend, and sister in law too, Mikkel.

Someone says, "Western themed tea party," and we don't mess around!

She's the fastest, stick horse barrel racer this side of the Mississippi and the most fun, party planning, selfless, sacrificing girl around.

I love ya.

From mikkel

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

From Collages

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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.

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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.