Sesame Street Nightmares

Three birthday celebrations, one Father's Day, seven t-ball games, zero days of preschool, one July 4th, one Wichita visit, two houseguest visits, 450 swims in our big metal cow trough, one ladies' weekend, one wedding shower, 59,459 games of Sorry, and one dead computer later, I post.

Ian had a nightmare. Our conversation discussing Ian's vivid dream went something like this:

Concerned Mommy: What happened in your dream?

Scared Ian: Coowkie Monstew came into my bed and twied to fight me.

Appropriately frightened Mommy: Oh, my, what did you do?

Brave Ian: I had to get out my sword and fight him.

Laughing-under-her breath Mommy: Who won?

Proud, but Honest Ian: Well, I did. But the dweam still scawed me.

Sympathizing Noah: Yeah, one time I had a dream that Bert, you know the one that's friends with Ernie, came into my bed and it really scared me, too.

Here's Ian's trademark for-the-camera grin:

Here's our stab at mirroring his winning smile:

Transformingly Awesome

This clip is solely to make Stephen the proudest uncle in all the land:

This version is a bit nuttier, due to Noah's recent testing out of humor. It turns out that if you are five and add the words "Tinker Bell" to ANYTHING, you become the preschool version of Chris Rock:

Manipulation, Mother's Day, Moshing, & Mighty Firsts & Lasts

So I manipulate. Now, in this situation, I find it completely justified. Before notifying Seth that there was an obstruction in our gutter (for all of you mortified men, it is at the BEGINNING of the gutter and shouldn't present any real problems for water flow), I made sure that the boys were fully attached to the obstruction. I explained to my young ones that the Mommy & Daddy doves and the developing baby birds are part of our family. And since Seth is a to-the-bone softy for little boys and animals, we have permanent residents.

This has been a week of lasts...last day of preschool, last swim lessons, last soccer game, last piece of chocolate cake ever (okay that's just ridiculous):

Noah's last day of preschool (EVER) involved some ugly, heavy mascara smudging


This doesn't technically show you their last day of swimming, but it makes my heart leap nevertheless.


The Mighty Mighty Jaguars!

The boys got to enjoy a first...FIRE. It was a thrilling Mom's Day afternoon at Dita's house that included an inaugural fire pit usage. Ian discovered that campfires include a delicacy titled smores, so he believes these will now be provided during each visit at Gma's house. Noah was fascinated with the makings of the fire and when the flame got too small, he requested that Jer Jer "turn it back on."


Ian's first trip to the dentist (they didn't have TVs on the ceiling when I was a youngin'):


And precious Connor continues to endure the heaps of love the boys place upon him:


Connor's 2nd month picture (he'll be three months on Saturday so perhaps that one will be posted sooner):

Check out more of Connor's smiles at Ian's form of affection: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PfZ_WqGA0h0


If you are a Third Day fan, you'll appreciate that we recently scooped center, front row and had an incredible time during our favorite band's concert. We no longer will accept going to any concert that does not include the words center and first row. We also had our second opportunity to meet the band, which was fast and furious, but here a couple of pics of our fan-dom anyhow. I'm sure someday they will enjoy an entire dinner with us.


Our front row Joe view of Mac:

Seth's proof of his great catch of Mark's pick:

Waiting to meet the band:

Seth's manly shaking arm:

Our pals Brad & Christy with our BFFs (B & C had to bring binoculars for their first row, LEFT seats):

For more Third Day concert footage (please note exactly who Mac is looking at in the first frame): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inGVb_audt0

The Chicken Lady's Grandma

On April 20, 2009, my Grandma went Home. I was able to hop on a plane to Washington and be with her in the hospital during her last few hours. Sitting there, watching her precious face and small, but strong body, so many moments surrounded me. The dresses she made my cousin and I to wear in a parade; the summer weeks I spent at her country house while she let me play the part of "Chicken Lady" (my CB name), as I gathered up the chicken eggs and came screeching to her for help because the chickens were following me (those big, bad frightening fowl); her hearty hugs which could cause Hulk Hogan to beg for mercy. A life well lived and a life loving well.

Nothing EVER compares with the feeling you get when you walk into Grandma's house. Here are my Grandparents with Seth and 16-month old Noah in 2005 (my Grandpa passed away in 2006)

On her wedding day

Yes, they actually did used to make them that classy. She could whip up a dinner for 20, end up with a spotless kitchen, and still look like she just jumped off the May 1957 Glamour cover.

Grandma, your talent for macaroni salad eludes me, but I pray your ability to make your family feel embraced, even from hundreds of miles away, makes its way to me. Until your next hug...

A Whole Bunch of Happy

My dad died in April during my freshman year of college. After his death, his April birthday was also a difficult day for me. My 26-year-old cousin and my Grandpa died in April. Many other less important, but nevertheless sad happenings for me occurred in that A-month (cue "Debbie Downer" theme song).

My friend Emily had a personal hatred for November so we decided to erase those months from our personal calendars. But thankfully that didn't work! Five years ago, Noah was born three weeks early, on my dad's birthday (coincidence doesn't claim that one). My MIL's & Jer Jer's birthdays are in April. Emily's twin girls and my cousin Pam's first son, whom all took many years to conceive, were born in April. So, here's to you April who is officially crowned my come-back month of the year!

For Noah's 5th birthday party, he wanted to "go to the place where you dress up like Star Wars and fight". And since we are currently missing that place in our town, we hosted a Jedi Training Camp at our church. After donning each Jedi with their official tunic and light saber, everyone received a Jedi name.

Master Jedi Htes teaching some of the young Padawans:

Leading the Jedi Training Obstacle Course:


Birthday boy, Jedi Hoan practicing the "windmill" (Htes made-up training moves):
Princess Leia (in the officially ugliest of the Princess Leis costumes) leading a round of "Jedi Jedi Darth" (similar to Duck Duck Goose, but with more using of The Force).

The boys in a stunned silence as all their training is about to be used for the common good of the galaxy:

Then the pummeling of Darth begins:

Darth in the official surrender mode (fetal position):
And the official Dad-of-the Century award goes to...Darth Daddy, showing off his injury:

The more traditional birthday party events:

Noah's additional birthday celebrations:

At the aquarium:

The rare, Oklahoma Bufferfish:

And lest Noah believe we had forgotten his birthday, here were some more cupcake celebrations:

In the midst of parties, we have the JOY of taking care of Connor two times a week:

Our Easter celebrations:

Before the eating festivities begin and pre-church:

Eating peeps:

Eating from Grandmom's Easter Basket:

Eating Dita's Easter Basket Cupcake:

Sage Milk

Who knows all the wisdom milk could share with us if we just took the time to listen. Perhaps, there is a scientific reason for this, but Noah and I believe that the jug was trying to speak to us. Sort of like Obi Wan sent his message to Luke through R2D2. Ian, perhaps, believed I should finish preparing his breakfast and cease staring at the talking dairy.

Connor

My wise mentor and friend, Carol Anne, explained to me that avoiding pain is not our chief purpose in life, although I find it a noble and worthy goal. Unfortunately for me, the story of Connor involves my sadness, but my grief should not overshadow this story.

Through our first foster parenting experience, we were connected with Connor last week at the hospital where he was born the week prior. Seeing him for the first time, confirmed my theory that biology is not related to love, whereas I fell straight to the bottom of my heart in love with this little 4 pound miracle. We spent Monday through Thursday with him at the hospital as often as we could, where we also developed some beautiful relationships with the nurses who claimed Connor as their peanut mascot.


We took him home on Friday where Grizz and Dot Com (30 Rock reference alert) became his entourage. The boys read to him, sang his favorite Star Wars and Transformer theme music, fetched toys for him, fed him, snuggled him, tried desperately to get as many germs on his paci as possible and watched his every move in the bath, diaper changing table and bassinet. Seth had man-time while bonding over soccer watching, pre-dawn feedings and long cuddling sessions. And I tip toed on my cloud of baby bliss, and gratefully loved on a baby without the nuisance of leaking breasts and body image issues (more than the normal ones), but all the rewards of a sweet, tiny life. At the hospital, I was fortunate enough to meet both sets of grandparents. His amazing paternal grandma and I had an in-depth conversation, so we were prepared that Connor would not be at our house for too long. But it was still heart-wrenching when I was notified on Monday, while buying groceries, that he would be heading to Grandma’s house on Tuesday. The ham lady must have thought me quite sentimental about my deli meat.


Yesterday afternoon we delivered Connor to his precious new home. (Yes, I ball and I type). They, too, are already in love with this little man, which is the huge consolation to my empty arms. I don’t know how I could survive a parting if I wasn’t positive that he was being as treasured as he deserves. Although he had a rough start, he is now completely enveloped with trustworthy, caring and loving big people.
So here’s what I’ve gathered from this amazing experience (and as you probably already noted, this entire post is indulging myself for therapy purposes): Kind people tell us often what a wonderful thing we are doing for a baby in need, but the joy that we receive from Connor is insurmountable. Many have said, “I don’t think I could handle foster parenting” (and since this was our first time, I wasn’t sure either). We were able to spend an entire week (which seemed closer to a year) with someone we completely adore. I’ll try to avoid adding Garth Brook lyrics to this post (think, “The Dance”), but my lesson is that the time we have had with Connor outshines, overshadows, overcomes the ache of my heart. The satisfaction has nothing to do with make-believing I did a noble deed, but that our family was so richly rewarded with being a part of Connor’s life.

Where do we go from here? As I said, Connor’s grandparents are incredible people and have graciously offered to keep in contact—and they are the kind of people who mean it (Grandma ALREADY e-mailed me pictures of him). Right now we are absolutely taking each day as it comes and praying for wisdom for our next step. And above all, we are praying for Connor’s glorious future and counting the blessings of being a part of his beginning.

For more videos, check out:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqGCtXVaH1I
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dewEGz52xLg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I6ggDXnbruM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zGsInwppb3c