I can hardly stand it

Seriously.

I can hardly even stand it. This amazingly talented gal makes me swoon nearly every day when I visit her blog. My blog should be retitled as "What Ashley Said Yesterday". She is just that amazing.

She recently put together this gift idea that serves as a daily calendar/notepad that very simply records the best of your days through out the year. It hits all my hot buttons: gratitude, reflection, pausing for a moment, simple (!!), easy to create and maintain, etc.

[source: ashley anne]

And, being the super quality woman that she is, she is sharing her template with all of us so that we can make them too. What a wonderful gift for a New Year's party (i know, just a little late for that!). I am making these for my kids, hubby and I tomorrow. I have to admit that I am seriously bothered by the fact that we are already on day 10 of January. I may have us go back through our calendar to try to remember the best of those days, just to appease the perfectionist in me.

Before you do anything else, click on this link and go download the template to make this for yourself or someone you love. You are guaranteed to put a little happy in their day.

Just in case you see this post, Ashley - thank you for sharing your amazing ideas with the internet. You are a beautiful picture of the Proverbs 31 woman and your children will surely arise and call you blessed. xo

Our Gratitude Box

We launched a new tradition in our home last year. Not only did we take on this new tradition in our home, but I gave it as a gift to several other families in our life.

As I reflect on the past few years, I can recognize that one of the greatest themes in my life over this time has been learning to be more thankful. I am learning to stop, to pause, to reflect, to meditate on the lovely. It has been a powerful thing in my life. I believe gratitude has the power to change our world.

So, in an effort to create space for reflection and focused gratitude in our family, I put together a "Gratitude Box".

I took shipping tags from Office Depot and numbered them 1 -15, one for every year of our marriage (we just celebrated our 12th year anniversary in August - woo hoo!).

And, over the weeks leading up to Christmas last year, my husband and I went through the years of our marriage together and chose something significant from each year to mark that year. We have tried to attach an object or photo to each of the tags that is connected to the year's memory, but we also write a brief description of what and why it is significant on the shipping tag.

We have our babies' hospital ID bracelets attached to the years that they entered our lives.

We have the key from our first house.

We have a Bible verse that was plastered all over our house to remind us to meditate on the lovely in the midst of a truly dark season, among other objects and tokens that help tell the story of our life as a family.

It was such a powerful thing for Drew and I to sit and reflect on our journey as a family, and how blessed we are, and also on the highs and lows that we have weathered together.

Our tradition is that this is the last "gift" that we open on Christmas, and as a family we will unpack the box and look at the concrete examples of favor and blessing and peace and joy that are woven in our story. I hope that this will become a highlight of my children's Christmas traditions, and that in the years to come, we will choose our year's markers together. I hope that one day when my kids get married, that this will be a gift that I can give to them - an empty box that is theirs to fill with treasured momentos that help them reflect on God's gifts to them.

I think that this could also be a lovely Thanksgiving or New Year's tradition. I plan on making it a gift that I give to couples who are getting married. I just know in my own life, that if I do not deliberately open my eyes wide enough to see the beauty in my history, and to purposefully choose to respond with gratitude, that I am missing out.

As a gift, I put together a collection of shipping tags, with numbers to mark their years. I like the metal boxes from IKEA, or the fabric covered boxes from Waverly that are sold at Target or TJ Maxx stores. I embellished the tags with some scrapbooking scraps to add a little flair and then fastened them together with D-rings sold at office supply stores.

I also printed this to go in the box:

Do you have any Christmas traditions that are focused on gratitude? What Christmas traditions are you hoping that your children will continue once they are off in families of their own?

how would my life be different ...

... if I woke up every day with eyes wide open to see how much I have to be thankful for?

How would my mornings be different if I looked for opportunities to praise my kids through my sleepy eyes?

How would my husband feel about leaving to conquer the world if I sent him off with words of affirmation and if I said, "Thank you for going to work today."?

How different would I feel if I looked in the mirror and noticed the good reflecting back?

I'll let you know tomorrow.

following the leader

Callen, you are such a wonderful big helper. Lately, you love helping me unload the silverware from the dishwasher. You hear the plates start clinking and you come running - "I wanna help!"

You give commentary the entire time ... big spoon ... little spoon ... little fork ... mama, A KNIFE (I think you relish getting to handle knives in these moments) ... big forks ...

You made my morning when you said, "Mama, look - these tea spoons are playing follow the leader."

Yes, son, they are.

the joy of sharing

Logan and Callen enjoying an early morning cuddle.

My kids share a room. I have to admit, I was a bit bummed when we downsized into our 2 bedroom home and we lost a room. I have a super girly-girl who had this really beautiful wrought iron bed that I had painted pink and distressed so that it was the perfect "shabby chic" bed that looked like it came from Anthropologie (really from Ikea for $99). Moving two kids into one room did not allow the biggish bed to fit. I loved that she had her own place to be while her brother napped - giving me some actual "quiet time to myself". And, I certainly appreciated that I could send them each to their own rooms for some time out from each other when the going got rough.

Adjusting to one room has been interesting. My son, who used to sleep until about 8 AM started waking before 6 AM. I think perhaps he has always stirred around this time, and without anything exciting to do in his room would doze back off to sleep. Now he wakes and sees his sister sleeping across the room and starts doing the worst things ever for these wee hours of the morning - he sings his ABC's and counts to 10 (with the numbers all out of order) and sings songs from his favorite TV shows at the top of his lungs until his sister is wide awake too. Then they play together and read books for, oh, I don't know, 2 and a 1/2 minutes before they start fighting and screaming at each other. There are mornings that I really, really miss the other bedroom.

But, something happened recently that melted my heart into a huge puddle of blissful mama goo and pretty much redeemed the early morning shared bedroom blues.

Here is how it went down...

Callen (almost 3) had his first nightmare. He woke up sometime around 3 AM screaming and crying. It was heartbreaking and painful. He was so, so sad. He could not tell me in words what was so scary, he just kept crying and saying, "I had a scawy dweam." I stood by his bed for a long time talking to him, holding him, stroking his back, and then I left to go back to sleep. There were a couple of quiet moments, and then he started crying again and repeating his phrase about the "scawy dweam". We repeated this cycle a few times. Me going to comfort him, standing next to his bed, talking him through it, going back to bed and I would lay down for a minute or two and he would start crying again. This lasted about an hour.

The entire time this was happening, Logan was laying there in her bed with her eyes sleepily watching me come and go. Everytime I would come back into the room to comfort her brother she would say, "Callen is still scared about his dream" in her crackly, sleepy voice.

He started crying again and I got out of bed and was rushing back to comfort him again, but just as I got to the bedroom door and was reaching for the knob, I heard Logan say, "Callen, it's okay, Buddy. You're okay. I am here with you. It's okay. Go back to sleep, Buddy. I am here..." She just kept repeating it over and over in her sleepy little voice. He stopped crying and I stood there listening to her soothing him as he did that little shuddering thing that we all do after crying our hearts out. I stood there for a good 5 minutes listening to her comfort him first with her reassuring phrases, and then by singing a song to him. She sang the same song I sing to her when she is scared or worried - "Mighty to Save" - a worship song from Hillsong Church in Australia.

I had to fight every urge in my body not to rush in there and scoop them both up into a heap of hugs. I knew it would ruin the peaceful moment that had settled on their room.

I tiptoed back to bed with tears filling my eyes and thanked God that my kids get to share a room.

What am i teaching my children?

Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again. And what do we teach our children? We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France. When will we also teach them what they are? We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michaelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel? You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.

-Pablo Casals

I read this quote today and was reminded of what I want to teach my children! I was reminded that in addition to correcting them and redirecting them from harming each other throughout the day, that I need to stop them as they scurry past me, gently hold them by the shoulders and look deep into their eyes. I need to smile at them in a way that allows them to see, through my eyes, how very much I treasure their very existence. I need to list the things that I love about them and remind them that they are meant to be blessings to this world and that they can do great and wonderful things in their lives. I need to kiss them on the tips of their noses and just say, "I love you." And, tell them about how I remember them growing inside of my tummy and how I prayed for them 50 times a day. And that the days that they were born remain as my favorite days in my whole life. They need to know these things. They need to believe these things in their little hearts.

Logan and Callen, your mama loves you.

a true piece of me

Today I had a little gift in my day.  I got to go running.  By myself.  I am trying to exercise regularly, but the whole "I need to care for two little children" thing is a huge barrier for me.  I get really frustrated by the bickering, the grabbing of each others' snacks & toys & "space", the constant questions that demand replies that my winded self just cannot answer in rhythm with my moving body ...  I get frustrated.

Today I got to go all by myself.  No one to talk to.  No "I spy" games to play while I run.  No stopping to pick up dropped items.  Just me and the pavement.  And my ipod (thank you, iphone.  and thank you for letting me take these pictures while i run and while i listen to my running mix!!)) to drown out the heavy breathing.  Just me and my thoughts and steady breathing.

I felt so free.  It took me right back to a season of life [college in La Jolla, CA] that was characterized by open schedule, freedom to run for an hour at a time, and no one to care for but myself.  I cannot really explain how I suddenly felt a bit more like myself as I was running today.  Like there is this "Ali" that spans my life's timeline, and today two parts of that timeline collided.  I am sure there is a strong chance that those words made no sense whatsoever to anyone but me.

Here is my hope - that every mother out there can have some sort of escape every now and then that takes her to that happy place.  It could be sewing, painting, walking, running, reading in a park with strangers around.  Because, I came home full.  Thankful.  I had eyes that got to focus on the beauty around me and an undivided self that was able to take in the moment fully - the smells of the trees and the cool fall air and my breathing ...

Where is your happy place?

Gratitude Revolution, part 2

[gratitude revolution part 1 is here]

It is my firm belief that my attitude, gratitude, and awareness of the blessings that are a part of my history and current life greatly impact my actions and my perspective on life.

My glass is either half full - because I am aware of how, in my life, I have experienced having my glass filled time and again.  

OR

My glass is half empty - because as I look at my life, I see all that I lack, and I am not remembering the past that is full of blessings.

I impact my own gratitude by how (or if) I choose to reflect on my past.

I was reading Psalm 105-106 today. It records over and over how God was faithful to the Israelites in their journey out of Egypt and through the desert. It also points to the fact that we as humans are so forgetful, and that our trust should be based on our history.

Our fathers, when they were in Egypt, did not consider your wondrous works; they did not remember the abundance of your steadfast love, but rebelled by the sea, at the red sea. Yet, He saved them for His name's sake, that He might make known His mighty power.
Psalm 106:7-8

"But they soon forgot His works..."  (Psalm 106:13)

"They forgot God, their Savior, who had done great things..." (Psalm 106:21)

A lack of remembrance is connected to action.  It is really easy for me to look at the record of these people who lived long ago and scoff at their "forgetfulness".  I mean, here are these people living in the midst of miracles.  - God sending the plagues to provoke their freedom from Egypt.  Leading them to the Red Sea and then PARTING the waters so that they could walk through the sea to freedom.  Taking them through the desert and daily providing them with bread to eat that would fall from the sky, hearing them declare their thirst and causing water to flow from a rock...  I can so easily see their constant forgetfulness and how it caused them to complain and to fear for their present circumstances.  In my head, I think, "If I had seen God open the sea, or drop bread into my hands every day,  I would absolutely KNOW that He would continue to care for me."

But, here is what I know about myself.  I forget today how God was faithful to me yesterday.  I forget that He created the two children who are MIRACLES in the midst of my infertility.  I forget that He has absolutely provided for our family in the most amazing ways in the midst of this economic uncertainty.  It may not be water flowing out of a rock, but it is clear to me that God is doing good things in my life daily.

So, if I am going to have this revolution of gratitude in my life, I think where I have to start is by remembering.  There is this section of Deuteronomy that always gives me chills:

I am going to start today with remembering.  

Jekyl & Hyde were here... A Question of Contentment

I think that I am living with Jekyl & Hyde. Seriously. It seems absurd that in the time span of .0003 seconds the mood between my children can go from loving each other wholeheartedly, stroking each other's faces with fairies flying above their heads sprinkling "happy dust" to a scene from Kujo where the dog is hunting down people and snarling and biting and breaking through windshields to get to them. It is actually unbelievable! And, it is no longer just fighting over toys (we have about 30 cars in our home, and the most coveted one is whatever one the other kid is holding!), it is as though they are fighting over who gets to breathe first. They fight over who gets to open the front door when it is time to leave, they fight over who gets to the car first, they fight over who gets to brush teeth first, they fight over which bar stool to sit in. Yesterday, I witnessed these two precious children fighting over my cottage living magazine, which neither of them cares about at all. It was just the only thing within arms reach when the "selfish moment" kicked in. I mean, seriously?

I sat watching them this morning and what I witnessed broke my heart. What I saw were two little people who were so caught up in watching what the other person was thinking about playing with next so that they could get there first, and simultaneously trying to look as though what they were holding in their hands and playing with was THE most fun thing in the whole world in order to spark some jealousy in the other. My daughter was scanning the room like a hawk and shrieking with a totally unnatural volume, "Oooohhhh, my little pony, hee hee hee, you are the most beautiful pony, hee hee hee..."

Before you think I am totally melodramatic in my saying that this "broke my heart", let me explain why. It is because it was as though I saw in their interaction the entire picture of our culture at large. I saw two little people who are so blessed with ample things to be thankful for, and the opportunity before them to live in a moment of bliss and happiness, so caught up with sizing up what the other people around them were doing, seeing and wanting that they literally were missing the joy in front of them. They were missing the opportunity to play together, to enjoy one another.

Quite frankly, I saw myself. -I miss out on so much when I am looking at everyone else. I miss out on the magic in my child when I am looking at other kids to see how my child is developing in comparison to them...I miss out on the wonder of the stage that we are in (newborn, toddler, preschool, etc.) when I am focused on what is coming next and how that will be so much easier...I miss out on recognizing that I am a well-made woman with body parts that all work and the ability to walk down the street with my head held high when I am busy comparing my thighs with the woman's thighs who is walking in front of me (who is probably comparing her tummy to the gal next to her)...I miss out on savoring the sun shining down on my face as I sit in my backyard with my kids when I am looking across my yard trying to picture how great a built in bbq and outdoor fireplace would look in place of patchy grass...

I. miss. out. on. so. much.

...but the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three on them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4, and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in a hurry to get on to the next things: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.
-Anna Quindlen

Dear Gloria Steinem,

I wanted to thank you for fighting for equal pay for women in the work place. I also appreciate that I have a choice in whether I want to pursue career full-time, family full-time, or a combo of both.  I believe you have marked our society and the way it looks at women.  I think that we women should stick together and encourage each other in life.  I admire your passion and willingness to fight for what you believe in.  I do not necessarily agree with all your views (abortion being a huge one), but I do have to recognize that you leveraged your life, your career, your reputation to fight for the things you believe in.  I respect that.

I recently saw you on Oprah.  You were being honored for all you have done for women.  You said something that I strongly disagree with, and I had to respond.

You said:

"Gratitude never radicalized anyone."

I know the context of this was Oprah asking you if you feel frustrated that young girls in this society do not know how far women have come.  But, these words that you choose to speak are so contrary to what I believe.

You see, Ms. Steinem, I believe that gratitude is one of the biggest forces of revolution there is.  I look at our society and I see a place that is pillaged by discontent, by greed, by a lack of gratefulness.  I see a world that is hurting and broken and very, very poor.  I see that most people walk through their days with a sense of entitlement, and maybe even a bit of anger because they want more.  You may think that the most powerful form of revolution is anger - indignation - frustration with the status quo.  I am led to believe that the most powerful revolution is one in our souls.  

I have seen in recent events in my own life that my choice to walk in gratitude is transforming my life.  It is RADICALLY changing my days, my thoughts, my heart.  You are wrong.  Gratitude has radicalized me.

I pray that my heart would burn for social justice.  I pray that our culture would hurt for those who are hurting, and take a stand when it comes to social justice. That we would live radically. I truly believe that if we begin to notice and want WHAT WE HAVE, we will want to fight for others to have that as well.   We will not be consumed by our quest for more, but to share the good.

So, today, I choose to be thankful.  To revolutionize my world with gratitude.  To foster that in my children.  I hope that others will join me in this.

Sincerely, 

Ali 

grat⋅i⋅tude   [grat-i-tood, -tyood] 

–noun

the quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful: He expressed his gratitude to everyone on the staff.

Origin: 

1400–50; late ME <>

[join me in the revolution of gratitude...]

{A Blustery Sort of Fallish Day}

Sometimes I long for 4 seasons.  You know the ones James Taylor talks about when he says, "Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall.  All you have to do is call..."

We have seasons here.  But, they are really only marked by a slightly different change in temperature and holidays.  We don't have 4 distinct seasons.  Part of me is thankful and part of me wishes for changing leaves and flurries of snow.

But, I definitely appreciate the small taste of Fall we have gotten here in our new neighborhood.  There is this "common green" area.  The neighbors here call it "the greenbelt".  Drew and I call it "the shire".  We spend many afternoons out there with our little buddies, running, biking, climbing trees (we are mostly watching the buddies climb...that could be a bit awkward otherwise), having picnics under the very, very tall trees.

Just a few days ago we were making our way out to the shire.  Logan was razoring.  Callen and I were walking along, very far behind her because his little legs were moving slowly this day.  All of the sudden I heard a loud scream from Logan -

"Mama!  Oh Mama!  Run here, quickly!  You have to see this!"

I scooped Callen up and started to move more quickly because I was not quite sure if I should be excited or expecting some sort or peril.

It was exciting.  

As I rounded the corner with Callen in my arms, I saw Logan sprinting towards the hugest pile of leaves.  She was shouting, "Fall is here!  Fall is here!"

We frollicked and played in the massive leaf pile for a very long time.  (Total bonus that I do not have to rake these leaves!)

After dinner we returned with the camera and frollicked some more...

And then, there was this song about it...

And, once again, Callen at the end of the video is just too dang cute. Did you hear him sing, "I want to play that game."? He was looking at a board game sitting on the floor and that is what came out.

Oh, and yes, I do know that my hubby is amazing!  Check him out on itunes (drew bray).  He will make your day better.

Bring on the apple cider, Fall is Here!!!

Pinch Me!

Seriously.  Pinch me!  Because this is the beauty that surrounds me every single day of my life.  Here I have an insanely talented husband who sings all the time (who needs pandora when you have this guy strumming in the background and writing songs for you).  Here I have my two beautiful children who are just too dang cute for words. Drew and Logan have this super fun tradition of singing songs together.  Spur of the moment songs that they make up together.  Here is one for your viewing pleasure.  And, yes, I know that I am putting way too many videos on my blog.  I know.  It is crazy!  I have been video happy lately, but they are too cute not to post.  

Can you even handle it? What is Callen doing at the end of that song? I mean, we already know that he is up against some fierce competition, but what was that?

If your ears would like to enjoy more of Drew, visit his website, or buy his tunes on itunes.  You will be stoked! 

Honk if you love...

... summer (or fall) days at the beach!

We had a really fun day today at Doheny Beach in Dana Point. Logan and Callen had their very first surfing lessons with Drew and Uncle Troy. They LOVED it!

Here is some video footage of the kids in the water...

Sisters

I stumbled into a blogging worm hole the other day. It is the most tragic and beautiful hole to tumble down. There is this beautiful blogging mother of 4 delicious children who has been keeping her own blog for a while called The NieNie Dialogues. It is almost as though you are reading an infomercial about motherhood and being a wife when you read it. She makes it look that good. Gratitude and grace seep out of her narrative. She adores her husband ( "Mr. Nielson" is what she calls him throughout her entire blog), the true man of her dreams and apparent soul mate. "Where is the tragedy?", you ask. This beautiful mother and her Mr. Nielson were in a plane crash in August and they are both in very, very serious condition. She has burns over 80% of her body. He has burns over 50% of his body.

80%?

I read through her entire blog last night. Because I know about her current condition, I could not help but weep through the entire thing. Here I am reading about this mother's love for her family and husband, and reading about how she delights in her children and family, knowing that she is separated from them, unable to care for them, and in an induced coma. What went through her head as the plane went down? Was she at peace or did she fight her way out to see her babies again? She is certainly fighting now. The photos of her show how incredibly beautiful she is. It pains me to think of her in her hospital room wrapped up like a mummy. But, the beauty that you read in her words, that is her beauty still. And, when I think of her children -- how are they processing being in the presence of this woman who has been their ever present source of love and nurture, and then suddenly not. What must it feel like for them to not only be without their parents, but also to have moved from their home in Arizona to Utah at the blink of an eye? Oh, how my thoughts and prayers are with this family.

But, her story is still being told. Her sister, Jane (who is such an amazing writer as well!), is now taking care of her children for her. Jane, who had one little baby in her brood, now has her sister's children and the way that she chronicles all that is going on is so, so beautiful. I love the way she talks about her sister. She wrote this:

I ended the day talking to Mom in Mesa while watching the steady rain fall underneath the street lamp from my front window. Mom is weary even though all is going as expected. Christian is healing well. Steph's progress is slow.

"Remember to be grateful for the Lord every day of your life." She said to me in a tired voice.

Just before I sat down to write I double checked all of my babies. I kissed each one and whispered a little secret in their ear. The Chief was sleeping mouth opened wide. I stood and watched him for awhile.

"It was a nice day." I whispered out loud in the quiet nursery.

"Indeed it was." I felt Steph reply back.

This hits me hard. I have a big sister that I adore. I cannot help but think about her as I read about this family. I don't want to ever, ever lose my sister. She has been my sister my whole life. Always there to pick me up, to help me with whatever I need help with. To listen to me cry. To encourage me in my life, marriage and parenting. She is the friend I have had longest in my life. We will still be skinny dipping on our last night of summer vacation when we are old and wrinkled and our boobs are hanging down to our belly buttons. We will be up all night, together, the night before our daughters' weddings, crafting away and tying ribbons, I am sure. We will be standing hand in hand someday when we say good bye to our parents. I cannot imagine a scenario in life without her nearby. I know that I would also run to scoop up her babies if anything happened to her. And, I know she would do the same for me.

So, this is my prayer: Please, God, keep my sister safe. Let us grow old together. And, hold this family in the palm of your hand. I pray for hope. For healing. And, for these 4 little children, that they would be covered by peace that surpasses all understanding. Would you rest Your hand upon their heads and comfort them in the absence of their parents? Would you whisper words of hope and joy in their ears and keep fear and insecurity far, far away from their hearts and minds? I know that these parents have worked hard to build a foundation of strength and hope in these precious souls. Redeem that work now, please. I pray for Jane, that you would give her strength as she cares for these precious souls.

Oh, how I ache for these sisters. Oh, how I ache for this family. Scroll down to see their beauty! And, please, please go to their blogs: Jane's & NieNie's. You will immediately want to go and wrap your children in the warmest hug humanly possible.

{You can donate to help out this family. (click on the Nie recovery button above) And, you can pray! Pray, mamas, pray. Pray, sisters, pray.}

My Favorite Days

Birthdays are a big deal around here. My kids pretty much talk about their upcoming birthdays all year, starting a day or so after their birthday takes place. It is often the chosen topic of conversation in the car, in the bath, at the

breakfast table, on the potty...you get my drift.

My son and daughter share a bedroom and the other night I lingered outside their bedroom door to listen to their chatter for a few minutes. This is what I heard:

Callen: "Ummm, Logan (lo-gan)?"

Logan: "Yes, Callen."

Callen: "Ummm, at

my birfday. ughlhdsgldshgdlksh [mumbling noises] Queen cake. No, pink cupcakes. Sprinkles."

[it is totally okay for a 2 year old little boy to love the book "Pinkalicious"!!]

Logan: [repeating back what he was trying to say] "At your birthday you want a Queen cake or pink cupcakes with sprinkles? I want a big cake with pink flowers on it. And sprinkles. Or, cupcakes. No, a big cake, with roses. Or a doggy cake..."

Callen: "Oh. Cake is yummy. I wike it."

... And, on and on it went. The prelude to their dreams is a birthday cake discussion. Nearly every night. Sometimes they change it up and talk about what "kind" of party they want to have. It's their hobby.

I am a big fan of birthdays & parties in general. I love hosting them, planning them, lying awake at night planning out all sorts of details (my kids must get it from me). I have a binder that I keep all sorts of ideas for decorations and party gifts and themes in (grown up people parties and kids parties). Yes, you could say I am a gal who likes dreaming up parties. I like celebrating holidays and birthdays. But, I LOVE celebrating my kids' birthdays. I love making a big deal of these days. Not a big deal in the sense of renting out Disneyland and hiring Jack Johnson to do the music, but a big deal in my own way. I love the idea of a day set apart to make them feel special....to let them choose what to have for dinner (its always Oatmeal Pancakes)...to savor the moment where the candles burn brightly in front of their puckered lips. It is the very essence of childhood and magic on display!

I also see these days as huge markers in my own life. Two days where a true desire of my heart was fulfilled. You see, I was not "supposed" to have these babies. I had this surprise pregnancy years ago, and then had a miscarriage 11 weeks into it. We were devastated. Super sad to lose this little baby that we were already so in love with. So, we started trying to conceive again. Trying and trying and trying and trying. We tried everything - ate certain foods, stayed out of hot tubs, ovulation kits, certain positions, me lying on the bed for an hour after "consumation" with my toes pointed to the ceiling. I am sure many of you know that position well. And, while it seemed that all the tips and tricks were working for EVERYONE around us trying to conceive, it was not happening for us. We finally found ourselves sitting in a place we never imagined we would be...

... The Infertility Specialist's Office ...

And, after a series of incredibly humbling tests (for both of us, finally, it was for both of us), we were given this news:

"You have a 1% chance of conceiving naturally. I recommend IVF."

One percent. Such a small number. Barely there. One. Percent.

I do think that my heart stopped for just a second. I remember the shock passing over my body and then a whole new wave of grief and anger passing over me. That baby that we had conceived was a miracle. Why, God? Why take that one away? Why give us a taste?

There were so many days that were so full of emotion and struggle for me. Baby showers were especially hard. Sometimes I could make it, sometimes I just could not. Seeing moms walking down the street with strollers quickly caused me to look away and focus on something else. Anything else that could distract me from the sad reminder of what I was not. I can remember one specific moment when I was walking through a Target store and I happened to be passing through the babies' clothing section. I caught a glimpse of the sweetest little dresses for a baby girl and my knees literally went weak. I remember not being able to stop the tears from streaming down my face as I made my way out of the store, shopping cart and errands abandoned because I was so overcome by sadness in that moment. The longing was too intense for me to ignore. I sat in my car and cried and sobbed and did not care that people passing by my car could probably hear me.

My beautiful nephew was born a few hours shy of my 25th birthday. My amazing sister pursued a natural childbirth with a vengeance and asked me if I would be her coach. What a bitter-sweet day that was for me. I remember watching her push through her contractions. It felt like we were under water because time was moving so slowly. I could not wait to meet this child, but I also could not stop the refrain of thoughts that were rolling through my head and heart - "I may never have this... I may never get to experience this... Oh God, please let me do this..." After my nephew was born, my sister held him in her arms and in the presence of my parents, her husband and myself, broke the awe-filled silence by singing "Happy Birthday" to him in a hushed, whispery voice. She gazed at him with perfect love. Undying love. "I will walk through fire for you" kind of love. None of us had dry eyes. And, I knew in that moment that my parents cried for two reasons, just like I did. I had never felt so empty as I did in that moment. I drove the hour and a bit from the hospital to my house (it was now my birthday) and I cried the entire way home. I cried. I pleaded. Like the psalmists, I poured out my sorrow, anger, fear, hopes and dreams to God.

"You are big enough to do this. I believe that you can do this. Be willing, please, God, be willing."

I remember walking up the stairs in our condo from our entrance to the main part of the house where my precious husband had lit a candle for me on every step and left an affirmation next to each one. There were 25 - one for every year of my life. The last one on the top step said, "I love you for the mother you WILL be." We were clinging to hope. But, I was living in grief.

Then, came the surprise of my two pregnancies. Both, total miracles, both total surprises, 2 1/2 years apart. Each pregnancy was a bit rocky with major insecurity on my part. I started having contractions at 20 weeks with my daughter and was placed on bed rest. Small price to pay. We have friends whom we love dearly who lost their baby 3 days before the due date. It just felt so fragile.

I was not worried so much about the pain in labor, as I was worried that something would happen in the midst of it that would result in me leaving the hospital with empty arms. I can remember feeling like I could finally exhale the moment that they handed my sweet baby girl to me. She was out. She was safe. She was alive. She was MINE. I have never enjoyed the "Happy Birthday" song as much as I did on that day. I still get teary when I sing it to my kids.

These birth days - these days that mark two of the most glorious days of my life - are days for me to remember that I have witnessed a miracle. Twice. I don't ever want to forget that my God intervened and answered my prayers. I don't ever want to forget that there are women out there who are holding back their own tears. It is good to be reminded. I think about the day Kristen's son's adoption was finalized, and it held much of the same feeling. This child whom she dearly loves is hers. Yes, to hold loosely. But, entrusted to her. Here in the flesh, not just in our dreams. We are women who realize that we are blessed to walk this road, regardless of how we made it onto this road.

{this is me holding Logan on her birth-day & the angels were singing along with us in heaven}

{here Logan and I are holding Callen on his birth-day & once again the angels are singing with us}

For any of you mamas who are in the midst of processing loss or a longing yet unfulfilled, I am so sorry. There is not much else to say but that. I hope for you for as many children as your heart desires.

un-pause

Wow. How time flies. Was my last post on this thing really in JUNE? I have lots of excuses:

-We moved. Packing. Sorting. Garage sale-ing [totally a word!]. Purging. Unpacking. Sorting. Nesting. Exploring.

-I had a birthday.

-Drew had a birthday.

-We went on vacation.

-We had our 10 year wedding anniversary. Incredible.

-Logan had a birthday.

-There is this thing called "Mama Manifesto" that sucks up every ounce of my free time. Every. ounce. I do not know how you blogging people maintain more than one blog and post every day. (and by "people" I mean Kristen.).

So, enough with the excuses. I am back and I want to try and diligently post at least a few times a week here.

There is so much good stuff going on in our lives, but I want to devote this post to updating on the move.

Here is my perspective on the last few months...

All of it is good. I can totally see God's hand in how he has led us to this place and I am so thankful. We are learning so much. Truly, I do not miss my old house. I miss a couple of features. The back yard is one such feature. Sure was nice to send the kids out to romp around while I fixed dinner. But, on the flip side it sure is nice to maintain only a 10 foot by 2 foot planter. Seriously, it is nice. I also miss my kids being in their own rooms. They wake up earlier and take a bit longer to nod off, but it is actually really sweet to see them living in "community". They LOVE it. Oh, and I miss my beautiful dark wood floors that were hand distressed and so stinking easy to care for. The flooring here is driving me mad. Absolutely bonkers. Two minutes after I mop it looks all footprinty and smudgy. And, it is cherry flooring so it gives off this pinkish hue. Logan loves it.

One thing that I have recognized is that God has taught us to live in today. To focus on our daily bread. Especially when we were in the midst of trying to sell, stressing over whether we would be able to make our mortgage payments as the market plummeted further and further down. What a perfect time for us to learn this principle. And, how freeing this principle is. Look at today. Do the best with what you have today. Love your kids today. Eat the food you have today. Pay the bills you can pay today.

It defies the planner in me. But, it has been so very good. And the result has been that we have learned what it is like to be at peace while you are in the midst of a storm. You see the waves coming - oh, but those are tomorrow's waves and I am here in today.

We are also seeing so much joy flow through our family as we choose to be thankful. I don't miss my old house because I am choosing to live with my eyes open wide to all that is lovely and amazing around me. I love the trees in our neighborhood and constantly say it outloud because it just makes me feel more joyful, more thankful. And more joyful and more thankful means less resentful. There is no room for resentfulness in this thankful heart.

And, I have got to say, the purging, oh the sweet purging! It is so good. If I were suddenly made president of the United States, I would institute a "National Day of Purging" where everyone goes through their home and gets rid of stuff that they do not wear, use, touch, fit in, or even look at. This country would be a happier place. You just "feel" lighter. I got rid of so many toys. My kids have not even noticed. Boxes and boxes of nick-nacky framey kind of stuff that did nothing but clutter up my world. In this small space it is really imperative that we have as much clear and open space as possible. And, even though we have moved from 3 bedrooms to two, it all feels bigger. Go, purge!!! You will feel so good.

I feel thankful to be renting. Thankful for less stuff. Thankful to be in a less stressful place financially. Thankful to be in our safe neighborhood. Thankful for all the trees around us. Thankful for the bike paths. Thankful for the great schools. Thankful for the smaller house. Thankful to be with my family. Just thankful.

While we were away on vacation, dear friends of ours stayed in our house. They are an amazing family with 4 kids, aged 3 - 10. That is a whole lot of kid-ness (uh uh, it is too a word) packed into this bite sized house. Their house was having a bit of work done and the timing was perfect for them to stay here. Here is a family with an awesome 5 bedroom home, amazing backyard with a play structure, and play room in their home. Their oldest child, a girl, mentioned to her mom that she loved being in our little house more than their big house because it meant that the family was all together. She said, "Sometimes, in our house, I miss everyone." I think she is probably right. I keep reminding myself that I am thankful to be bumping elbows with this crew I have under my roof.