A Princess Unveiled

This, my friends, is a princess.

When my friend Wendy, the daughter of my friend Angie, asked me to take pictures of her and her amazing boyfriend on prom night, I of course said yes. When that night came, and I opened up my front door and saw the symbolism, the tears started. And I'll tell you why.

I have known and loved Wendy since she was 12 years old. She is now almost 17. She has been the subject of many of my prayers. I have watched her go through more hard stages and dangerous phases in these years than you can imagine. She has been a searching, lost soul. But the search is over. And the soul is no longer lost.

She has found incredible joy in Jesus Christ. And He turned her into a forever princess.

Oh, I’ve seen the princess in there all along. There were just some thick layers that had to be painfully removed before she could see the princess. God threw some amazing people in her dark path to light the way and she will never be the same. Sometimes it seemed hopeless for her and for those who loved her, but He knew the whole time what was about to be unveiled.

She now knows exactly who she is. She seeks God’s approval instead of man’s. She stands for purity because she knows she is worth it. She continually blesses her family and everyone who knows her. She is a beautiful woman of God. And it is for eternity.

This makes me cry because I tell you, the road from the depressed girl with jet black hair and lips, to this glowing girl in pink ruffles and a tiara was long and difficult and treacherous.

It is a true redemption story. One of my favorites.

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And it’s better than any fairytale ever written.

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I cannot have a teenager, can I? Oh my. I do.

And I couldn’t be happier. But still, how did this happen? How can time go so fast? What is this watery substance streaming from my eyes?

The thought of one day having a teen used to frightened me somewhat. I don’t know what I thought it would be like, but I wish I would have known the truth.

The truth is it is delightful.

I love Garrett’s personality and I love who he is. It is so much fun to be on the receiving end of his wit and humor and I love that he gets me. He continually blesses me with his little acts of kindness, such as sharing his chocolate and picking up my empty coffee cup after church to throw it away before I do, even though I have never asked him to.

I love the relationship he chooses to have with each member of his family.

I love that he is a leader, but he is not arrogant. That he is sensitive, but extremely tough. That he is a warrior for God. And that he lets Cole beat the living daylights out of him.

I love that we are doing fun stuff together like our private Mom/Garrett book club. We are reading the same book and discussing it as we go. Right now we are reading The Shack by William P. Young. Sharing insight and observations concerning the book is such fun and it is definitely enhancing our reading. That’s not something I could have done with that adorable toddler I wanted to never grow up, is it? Sometimes it’s hard on mommy hearts to watch them turn another year older, but I’m telling you, it just gets better.

Having a teenager is not frightening. It’s amazing. Especially with this teenager. Happy birthday, babe. I admire you and love you so much.

Gettin' dirty

Let me just say it. I don’t like dirt. It’s just so dirty. I want to be laid back about it, but it is just not natural for me. I want to be one of those moms who grins in adoration when her child splashes her as he jumps in a muddy puddle on their way into church, but instead I am the mom who says “For real? Did you have to jump right in the middle?” It’s just how I am. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect them to please me in this area, I’m just saying dirty stuff makes me uncomfortable.

This week a blog post inspired (read convicted) me to go as far as to encourage my children to play in the mud (one…minute…please…trouble…breathing…ok, better). So I made a commitment to myself to lead my children in that very activity this week. I seriously can only think of a couple of times I have actually encouraged mud play. Allowed it, maybe. But encouraged? So today I jumped out of my comfort zone in the name of fun mommyhood. They had a blast and I only hyperventilated once or twice. The clothes are all in the washer and the kids are all showered and quite honestly, I think after a couple of sessions of therapy I am going to be alright. We may even do it again soon.
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Comfort zones are for wusses.

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Garrett stood in the pond and dumped water over the wall into our mud pit

And then there is the fourth child

I remember ten years ago when it would be time for me and my only child to go somewhere. Like the library. I would pick out something adorable for him to wear, clean his face, and gel his hair just perfectly. You never know when you might see someone you know, ya know? So fast-forward a decade and the following is kinda how we roll.

Me: COME ON EVERYONE, TIME TO GO TO THE LIBRARY! Whoa, Cole, are you wearing that?
Cole: Yes!
Me: Are you wearing underwear under there?
Cole: (checking with uncertainty) Ummm....yes.
Me: (surprised) Oh! Good job, babe. GET IN THE CAR EVERYONE!!!

I don’t know if I have really chilled that much or if I feel more secure because my other three regularly and voluntarily sport fashionably acceptable duds and in my mind that gives Cole a little buffer zone, or what. I just know it is different now. I find myself saying less and less “Let’s just make that a special at home outfit,” and just going with the flow. I have to say though, I may have let the costume slide but I had to put my foot down when he was wearing socks and flip-flops on the way out the door the other day. I may have mellowed, but there are still standards to honor for crying out loud. We’re living in a society here.

On a side note, during this visit to the library Cole was making friends with a little boy (He was working to reach his personal quota of making 6-8 new friends in each place we stop) and I heard him whisper “I’m not really this strong.” That's my little man of integrity. You’d hate to start a friendship under false pretense. Lord knows the pain and disappointment that could have erupted if they were ever to meet up again and he were to realize that Cole’s biceps are actually the diameter of an egg roll.

Here ya go, Laura

My friend Laura, whom I haven't seen in person in years, was asking me the other day why I am never in any of the pictures on my blog. There are several reasons, the top two being 1. I am usually behind the camera, and 2. I have issues. Racks and racks of 'em. But Friday in art class Riley's little friend was snapping shots of us, so I decided to post one of them. Here it is. Happy?

Higher

I professed my love for swings in a previous post. Something about them has always been so comforting to me. My all-time favorite swing is the one on the side of our front yard. Handmade and hung by my husband, who thinks my love of swings is cute. He didn’t just make any ol’ wussy swing either. He made a huge seat, often big enough for more than one person, depending on ahem posterior girth. Everyone loves to swing here. Kids, adults, grandparents, everyone has at least tried it. And he hung it from a huge branch over 30 feet in the air, so when you start swinging high, you go waaaaaaay out. It seems very slow, almost like you are hovering.

I love the feeling I have on this swing. The relaxing rush almost feels like a drug to me. I love to feel the soothing breeze as it races past me and the sensation of gliding above everything on the ground. David summed it up with a quote he wrote on the bottom.

It reminds me of my prayer life. I adore the times when I am so close to God that it almost feels like a drug. Nothing can bring me down. The calm of walking with Him is like the soothing feeling of the swing. I love gliding above all my problems and concerns, floating on the faith that He has it all under control. Going higher and higher and leaving the world behind.

I go through seasons with our swing when I hardly notice it is out there. Then there are seasons when I have my child slaves pushing me on it every day. Unfortunately I have similar on and off seasons with God. But He is always there waiting, ready to take me higher, just like our swing is always out there waiting for me to jump aboard.

Sometimes I leave both of them hanging for way too long.

And when I get back on, I am never disappointed.

Chattin'

Remember the days when you chatted on the phone for hours? You laid on your twin bed, you painted your nails, you resprayed your hair up totally big, you fixed a diet coke, you moved to the couch to turn on Days. All while maintaining your focus on the caller.

I used to do that with Laura. She is a friend from college. Today I was on the phone with her for over an hour. That may seem like a long time, but the truth is, we really only got in about 30 minutes worth of conversation. Which is a bummer because we had important things to discuss, like how our size 8 clothes were getting dusty and outdated and how food tastes so yummy. But we kept getting interrupted by the combined 8 people we are responsible for.


Cole was supposed to be putting away his clean clothes and he kept appearing dressed in layers of the clothes he was supposed to be putting away and asking questions like “Can I just have a garbage bag? I really don’t want these clothes.”

Laura had to pause to tell one of her kids to stop cutting the hair bows. I think we all know what a daily struggle that can be.

And she must have said “Just go clean!” 34 times.

Then there was the issue of her happy-hearted bathroom cleaner who was singing so loudly that Laura couldn’t make out my words.

One of mine came in to ask if he could take the laptop outside where he was playing with the neighbors. That’s when Laura and I discussed our overuse of the phrase “Not today.”

Laura had one following her around trying to get her to fill out an apparently time sensitive form, while I had a moment with my kids after finding a whole package of deli ham that had been left on the counter for several hours by someone who doesn‘t pay for groceries. Yet.

There just really wasn’t a lot of time left to talk. Gone are the days. Like sand through the hourglass.

Thank you Dear Jesus for the Internet, thank you.

Oh, and for the kids.

Exercise Shmexercise

I took my camera with me on a family walk because I am excited that it is spring and time to be outside again. I wanted to capture the springiness and put it on my blog. Upon viewing the photos when I got home, the theme of my post changed. I discovered that these pictures represent why I do not get a lot of intense exercise on our family walks. I’ve noticed I just don’t seem to get much momentum going. Sweating is rarely involved and there is little to no heart rate increase. And quite honestly, where are the toned calves? So now the mystery is solved. Here is how the ol’ family walk plays out.

Walk walk walk STOP
Pet the neighbor’s dog

Walk walk walk STOP
Explore creek

Walk walk walk STOP
Wait for climbing of dead tree on side of road

Walk walk walk STOP
Dodge scooter making figure 8 in path. Repeat 12 times.

Walk walk walk STOP
Dodge middle-of-the-road football game

Walk walk walk STOP
Wait for tired child to be picked up and carried

And now, thanks to my camera, I know. Family walks are for fun, not for workouts.

Treadmills are for workouts.

And because I am so kind, and my treadmill has been resting so peacefully, I shall not disturb it.

So on with the fun. I'll have toned calves in heaven.