I think today I'm using this blog as an escape from reality. My "normal" reality is that I've got six amazing kids,(I know I'm biased but they really are pretty great). I have an amazing husband that has the energy of 20 men. I have a house I try to keep tidy or at the very least germ free and a yard that has so much landscaping it overwhelms me. I have 5 chickens that I like to watch be stupid together, a cat that I really don't like but my kids do, so he stays because I love my kids more than I dislike cats. My "this week" reality is: we have family coming for our daughter's high school graduation, several nights of concerts and award programs, softball practices and games, mom taxi service, overnight camping/hiking trip this weekend. I have an empty pantry and laundry that I've not done for a couple days. I told my husband our laundry is more fertile than I am! I put two towels together and next thing I know I've got 2 big piles of just bathroom laundry.This blog is definitely serving as my land of denial.
I've been editing senior pictures, cleaning off SD cards and organizing picture files in my computer for the past few weeks. It's fun but a bit weird seeing our lives change in Kodak moments. I'm often asked, "how do you do it?" My honest answer is that I don't know, most of the time. I go on autopilot and just get things done. I wake up running and don't stop running until I stop around 11 when I try to watch the news but usually doze off while it's on. The kids make fun of me for falling asleep watching tv. Maybe I have a form of narcolepsy...when I stop moving I fall asleep.
In these pictures I see a bunch of kids hanging on me or Jim with big, happy smiles. I see pictures of kids holding their new baby sibling, kids with casts, swollen eyes from bee stings or running into something that got in their way, water babies, hiking babies, bike riding babies. I see me and Jim so happy and busy and think I don't know how we did it. And it makes me a bit sad to realize how very fast it went. I remember those days like yesterday and I remember thinking during the gnarly moments, "one day this will pass." Sweet older ladies would smile at me as I have my momma duck line going someplace and they'd say, "enjoy this time. It goes by so fast." I would smile and thank them for their advice but would think, "it sure doesn't seem like it's going by fast"
One day I was taking my then 5 kids to the library to sign up for summer reading. I'm carrying the car seat, with 3 week old Becca, I have my 2 year old holding the other side of the car seat. explaining to her (more like begging her to not let go so I don't have to chase her with my brood following) "mommy needs help, will you please keep the baby safe with me?" Then I have 3 year old protective Hunter keeping her safe by squeezing Natalie's hand, Courtney's got a death grip on Hunter's hand (she's my rule abider. I said don't let go of hands. There was NO way she was going to break the rule.) and 7 year old Kara at the other end being the "other responsible adult" in the line. I realized we had taken up the whole lane in the parking lot when I heard a car idling behind us. I looked back and smiled at the driver as the she patiently waited for us to get out of her way. In that 2 second head turn all hell had broken loose. I'm sure the lady saw what was happening and wasn't smiling at me but at what she was watching take place. 2 year old Natalie trips and falls, skinning her knee, Hunter freaks out because he's sees blood; Courtney, refusing to let go of Hunter's hand, squeezes harder and he starts crying because "she's hurting me." I turn to Kara as calmly as I could and handed her the car seat, "go directly to the bench and wait for me. Look both ways as you leave the parking lot." She says, "I got this mom" and as I turn away from her to pick up wounded Natalie, calm Hunter, "it's just a scratch, there's no big cut." and try to explain to Courtney that "I have Hunter's hand now, it's okay to pleeeeease let go of him." Meanwhile the lady in the van has put the car in park and is now talking to her child in the backseat. This is when this sweet old lady pats me on the back and says, "enjoy this time. It goes by so fast." She was right, it did. Now I'm the lady telling moms how fast the time goes.
I'm embracing this new season of life without as many daytime interruptions but I do miss the laughter of a little kid, sitting and reading to a toddler that still giggles as we both say "I will not eat green eggs and ham...", the pitter patter of little feet on the floor, the cute grunts of a baby that can't talk but I know that particular grunt means they want a drink. I rush around during the day to get as much done I can so that at 2:40, when my first bus rider comes home, I can hear all about their day and laugh with them as they tell me their stories. That's now my favorite time of day, we talk and laugh together before the crazy evening schedules take over.
And now I must stop avoiding and go to the grocery store so I can feed my brood. I will try to find the happy in shopping!
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Laughter is good for the soul
When Jim got home from work yesterday he gave me a dozen roses and proudly exclaims "There's a card in there too." I looked inside...no card. It went missing between the store and my hands. He told me the card said, "I love you and I love that you make me laugh every day." I love that he brings me flowers for no reason. I love that after nearly 22 years, I still make him laugh (quite often it's just from my clumsiness), I love that laughter is a normal, every day noise we have in our home.
We'd been dating a couple months when we had our first "fight" though it was more of a disagreement/discussion...and I was clearly winning. Jim stops mid sentence and says, "you know what this is?" No. "It's our first fight!" How could I continue to try to win after that? We both laughed at the silliness of the moment. It was a ridiculous thing to fight over...because I'd already won. It was over a girl...or rather a picture of a girl....and yep, I won! ;)
Laughter has been a bit part of us since we started. I'm so happy laughter continues in our home every day. Our house is filled with kids all the time, and not just our own crew. Last weekend we had a party with about 15 teenagers here. We couldn't help but smile and laugh along with these great kids. I don't know how much weight a sofa can hold but they sure tested it out with an entire group dog pile.
Laughter and a good sense of humor are so very important to survival, in my opinion. Laughter really does heal the soul, I've read articles in medical magazines that discuss attitude and sense of humor helping the physical healing process. It discussed how two patients with the same diagnosis react differently. Both were given the same medicine and in about the same physical shape, the biggest difference was that one had a more positive nature and a good sense of humor than the patient that is quite often serious and laughs less.
Laughter is almost always good. I sometimes laugh at the wrong times and the more I try to stop, the more I laugh. When I was 17 I got in so much trouble for something, I forget what I did but whatever it was really upset my dad. He was giving my list of punishments and threats and the angrier he got the redder his face got, the more his head shook. I knew I shouldn't be laughing and I really tried to stop. I was even biting the inside of my mouth. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my mom shaking her head but she was laughing at me too. I'd backed up against the wall and my dad walked closer and poked his finger in my chest and said, "Do you understand me young lady?!" I tried so hard to swallow my nervous laughter but as I opened my mouth a laugh escaped so I closed it again and just shook my head. Finally, mom came to my rescue. She was a bit better at controlling laughter that I was. She put her hand on my dad's arm and said, "I think she gets it. Let her go to her room and think about it." I then went in my room and cried, thinking "why couldn't THIS have been my reaction!"
There's a song in Mary Poppins called, I Love to Laugh. Mary takes the kids to see her uncle who he laughs all the time. He tells jokes to make the kids laugh and they all float to the ceiling. The more they laugh, the higher they go. I love the visual...the more we laugh, the higher our spirits go, the happier our moods become. The song is about different kinds of laughs. That is by far my favorite song from Mary Poppins. I think I want that on my epitaph. "She loves to laugh"
Laughter is one of my favorite sounds. I'm not as funny as my brother, or no longer as outwardly goofy as my son but I love to make others laugh. If I tell a story that makes someone laugh, it warms my heart. For years, I'd look up dumb jokes, the dumber the better, and share them with my family at dinner. Now Courtney, my soon to be high school graduate, has taken over that role. Her jokes are great the only problem is we can rarely understand the punch line because she's laughing too hard for us to understand it. And it's okay because the end result is to get us to laugh, which we do...just at her and not the joke.
Here's a video of my Becca. She's the happiest 10 year old I know. Every year when her teachers and friends write notes to her, the notes are always something about her giggle. I hope she never loses her sweet, free, open, giggle. What she's laughing at are her brothers. Hunter is laying on his back reading and Nate sees an opportunity to tackle. He jumps on Hunter's stomach who has decided to make up a song about Nate. Laughter + music= our happy noises.
I hope you find something to laugh about today. I mean really laugh about. A full on belly laugh, one that you have to take a deep cleansing breath to recover from. Those are the best kind of laughs.
We'd been dating a couple months when we had our first "fight" though it was more of a disagreement/discussion...and I was clearly winning. Jim stops mid sentence and says, "you know what this is?" No. "It's our first fight!" How could I continue to try to win after that? We both laughed at the silliness of the moment. It was a ridiculous thing to fight over...because I'd already won. It was over a girl...or rather a picture of a girl....and yep, I won! ;)
Laughter has been a bit part of us since we started. I'm so happy laughter continues in our home every day. Our house is filled with kids all the time, and not just our own crew. Last weekend we had a party with about 15 teenagers here. We couldn't help but smile and laugh along with these great kids. I don't know how much weight a sofa can hold but they sure tested it out with an entire group dog pile.
Laughter and a good sense of humor are so very important to survival, in my opinion. Laughter really does heal the soul, I've read articles in medical magazines that discuss attitude and sense of humor helping the physical healing process. It discussed how two patients with the same diagnosis react differently. Both were given the same medicine and in about the same physical shape, the biggest difference was that one had a more positive nature and a good sense of humor than the patient that is quite often serious and laughs less.
Laughter is almost always good. I sometimes laugh at the wrong times and the more I try to stop, the more I laugh. When I was 17 I got in so much trouble for something, I forget what I did but whatever it was really upset my dad. He was giving my list of punishments and threats and the angrier he got the redder his face got, the more his head shook. I knew I shouldn't be laughing and I really tried to stop. I was even biting the inside of my mouth. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my mom shaking her head but she was laughing at me too. I'd backed up against the wall and my dad walked closer and poked his finger in my chest and said, "Do you understand me young lady?!" I tried so hard to swallow my nervous laughter but as I opened my mouth a laugh escaped so I closed it again and just shook my head. Finally, mom came to my rescue. She was a bit better at controlling laughter that I was. She put her hand on my dad's arm and said, "I think she gets it. Let her go to her room and think about it." I then went in my room and cried, thinking "why couldn't THIS have been my reaction!"
There's a song in Mary Poppins called, I Love to Laugh. Mary takes the kids to see her uncle who he laughs all the time. He tells jokes to make the kids laugh and they all float to the ceiling. The more they laugh, the higher they go. I love the visual...the more we laugh, the higher our spirits go, the happier our moods become. The song is about different kinds of laughs. That is by far my favorite song from Mary Poppins. I think I want that on my epitaph. "She loves to laugh"
Laughter is one of my favorite sounds. I'm not as funny as my brother, or no longer as outwardly goofy as my son but I love to make others laugh. If I tell a story that makes someone laugh, it warms my heart. For years, I'd look up dumb jokes, the dumber the better, and share them with my family at dinner. Now Courtney, my soon to be high school graduate, has taken over that role. Her jokes are great the only problem is we can rarely understand the punch line because she's laughing too hard for us to understand it. And it's okay because the end result is to get us to laugh, which we do...just at her and not the joke.
Here's a video of my Becca. She's the happiest 10 year old I know. Every year when her teachers and friends write notes to her, the notes are always something about her giggle. I hope she never loses her sweet, free, open, giggle. What she's laughing at are her brothers. Hunter is laying on his back reading and Nate sees an opportunity to tackle. He jumps on Hunter's stomach who has decided to make up a song about Nate. Laughter + music= our happy noises.
I hope you find something to laugh about today. I mean really laugh about. A full on belly laugh, one that you have to take a deep cleansing breath to recover from. Those are the best kind of laughs.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
How did that happen?
After shopping for my daughter's graduation party today I loaded the back of my Suburban and cracked my shin pretty hard on the hitch...not the hitch but the adapter thingy. The hitch wasn't even put on the Suburban. As I grabbed my leg and tried not to use every expletive I knew ,I started laughing at the following trip down memory lane.....
When I was a little girl, I was so very clumsy. I remember one summer night my brother dragged me in the bathroom and decided to get my arms and legs clean. "You're so dirty Tiff! When was the last time you took a bath?!" As I'm screaming & yelling from the scrub down, my mom walks to the bathroom door and tries not to laugh. She quietly whispers something in Ron's ear. He says, "Oh." turns the water off, tosses me a towel and walks away leaving me with my mom. I'm sure she's going to do the same thing. I knew I had a bath the night before and that it wasn't dirt, they were bruises. Mom kisses my "boo boos", then dries my legs and asks what happened. This was the first of many times she'd ask this question.
I don't remember my answer that time but I do remember long stories of excitement about the fun we had running around town, riding-or should I say crashing-my bike, rolling down the hill that led to the creek....THIS was a BIG no no but I later found out my brother went to the same spot along the creek and neither of us ever told mom. (this is not to give my own children ideas!). The bottom line was this...at the end of the day I always had fun stories to tell and I always, always had bruises I had no idea how they got there.
One day I ran into the edge of the counter and had an A-HA moment. I ran in to tell my mom I finally had an answer! "The bruise on my hip is from YOUR dumb counter! I always run into it!" She busted up laughing and asked me how long that counter had been there..."all my life"... she laughed harder.
Fast forward a few decades and here I am today holding my shin that is throbbing and has some skin torn off. I look down at my shins and notice for the first time, they are incredibly bumpy, from years of cracking my shins on anything at the perfect height.
One of my many nicknames as a kid was Grace. Mom started calling me that shortly after she started asking me "what happened?" She told me it was because I lacked grace and coordination. Some things really don't change. After years of trying, I did master walking in high heels but I'm still unable to approach anything at shin height without doing some damage and I'm sure causing laughter from anyone who's fortunate to see my gracefulness in action. I'm always glad to be able to entertain and bring happiness to someone else's day, even if it's unintentional. Stick around, I'm sure I'll trip, fall or bang my shin on something again today.
When I was a little girl, I was so very clumsy. I remember one summer night my brother dragged me in the bathroom and decided to get my arms and legs clean. "You're so dirty Tiff! When was the last time you took a bath?!" As I'm screaming & yelling from the scrub down, my mom walks to the bathroom door and tries not to laugh. She quietly whispers something in Ron's ear. He says, "Oh." turns the water off, tosses me a towel and walks away leaving me with my mom. I'm sure she's going to do the same thing. I knew I had a bath the night before and that it wasn't dirt, they were bruises. Mom kisses my "boo boos", then dries my legs and asks what happened. This was the first of many times she'd ask this question.
I don't remember my answer that time but I do remember long stories of excitement about the fun we had running around town, riding-or should I say crashing-my bike, rolling down the hill that led to the creek....THIS was a BIG no no but I later found out my brother went to the same spot along the creek and neither of us ever told mom. (this is not to give my own children ideas!). The bottom line was this...at the end of the day I always had fun stories to tell and I always, always had bruises I had no idea how they got there.
One day I ran into the edge of the counter and had an A-HA moment. I ran in to tell my mom I finally had an answer! "The bruise on my hip is from YOUR dumb counter! I always run into it!" She busted up laughing and asked me how long that counter had been there..."all my life"... she laughed harder.
Fast forward a few decades and here I am today holding my shin that is throbbing and has some skin torn off. I look down at my shins and notice for the first time, they are incredibly bumpy, from years of cracking my shins on anything at the perfect height.
One of my many nicknames as a kid was Grace. Mom started calling me that shortly after she started asking me "what happened?" She told me it was because I lacked grace and coordination. Some things really don't change. After years of trying, I did master walking in high heels but I'm still unable to approach anything at shin height without doing some damage and I'm sure causing laughter from anyone who's fortunate to see my gracefulness in action. I'm always glad to be able to entertain and bring happiness to someone else's day, even if it's unintentional. Stick around, I'm sure I'll trip, fall or bang my shin on something again today.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
The benefits of being a Foster Family.
As Mother's Day has been approaching this week my thoughts have naturally been of my own mother but also about all the other mother's I've had and still have in my life. I've also been thinking about me as a young mother and the things I'd ask my oldest daughter to do compared to what I ask my now 7 yr old son to do.
My parents were foster parents for 9 or 10 years when I was growing up. I loved being involved when I was a kid but it was years later that I gained full appreciation for that experience and the opportunity it gave me to grow as a future mom. The heart breaking moments were when I'd watch my mom cry for days over a foster child going back to their mom. Just because they weren't living with us anymore didn't mean she quit worrying and praying for them. These kids all grew to love her and call her mom. She treated them just like she did my brother and myself and they had the same expectations we had. I got to see how excited she was when a 12 year old girl moved in with us and she was reading at a second grade level. By the beginning of the school year this girl was reading at her appropriate grade level. My mom was so proud of this young girl, who was the same age I was. I think she was my favorite foster sister. Probably because I had a built in friend to always hang out with. We did argue like sisters but it always ended with an apology and laughter, usually strongly encouraged by mom. Had it not been for my parents fostering others' babies until they were ready to, I wouldn't have learned how to do the basic baby or child care. I learned how to calm down a crying baby, change diapers, the unpleasant job of washing cloth diapers, how to patiently solve children disputes, how to unconditionally love every child.
By natural birth order, I'm the baby. I was reading the Birth Order book a few years ago. I initially read it as a mother, but then started reading it as a child. I found it a very interesting book. It says that after a four year gap, the next child will have the first born characteristics. Which explains why my brother and I have many typical first born personality traits. We are both protective of one another and our families, we are ambitious, if there's a problem in a situation--we are not afraid to find a solution and try it out. If there's something we want or need to do, we find a way to do it or get it done. Having foster siblings I was not only the baby of the family and after my brother moved out, I was the only child at home; I had the opportunity to be the oldest, only, youngest and middle child. As I read the Birth Order Book, it was so interesting to me how I could relate with each birth order and the "difficulties and successes" they can have in a family. Had it not been for my parents being foster parents I wouldn't have learned as much as I did in life, as a child, about parenting, about loving others and doing good in the world and not expecting anything in return.
When my oldest daughter, Kara, was 7 she was the oldest of four babies. I relied on her to be my extra arms when I went someplace. "Kara can you push the stroller while I carry the car seat and diaperbag and hold so and so's hand?" She would always happily jump in line and push the stroller, she rarely complained about doing a chore for me or helping pick up toys her younger siblings threw around. Nate, my now 7 year old son, has never pushed a stroller, helped change a diaper, entertained a younger sibling while I make dinner or get a quick shower. I love each of my children fiercely and just as much as I love the next one. I love different things about each one too. While Nate is the baby of the family, he does things that Kara didn't need to or have the opportunity to do. We were a young family and didn't have much money when she was little. Jim was still in college, we were still finding our way in life. She had 2 years with me 24/7. She doesn't remember those years but she didn't have to share me with anyone, ever. When Courtney, our second baby, came along Kara was so excited to share me and to have someone she got to love on, hold, feed and play with. Nate doesn't have the opportunity to love on a sweet new baby, but he does have to share me...all the time, with everyone. Kids learn to share when they're two or three. We had to find ways to teach Kara to do this with us. Nate was born sharing. He shares my time, my hugs, my conversations. He shares his life and time at baseball diamonds, high school musicals, jr high plays, elementary choir concerts, soccer fields. Now he's at the age that he's getting involved in things outside of our family. He's loving being a big kid and showing off for his family, "just like my big brother and sisters."
So on this mother's day, I think of my mom and all she taught me by example and by stopping what she's doing for a sweet teaching moment. I'm thankful they were foster parents. I have lost contact with all of our foster children, but loved each of them and would've defended them all just like they were my blood brothers and sisters. I feel fortunate having had a rare opportunity to "safely" see firsthand the sadness some families have, the result of not having loving supportive parents. All of these things have helped me be the mother I am and the person I am today. I hope I honor and will continue to honor my parents by living the life I do and always trying my best to be the best mom, wife and person I can be.
Me with the last group of foster kids we had in our home. I was 13 or 14. I hesitated to post this picture as it was my awkward years. (I'm in the red shirt) But we all had them...and survived them!
There is always something happy about every day. I once had a very bad, hard day. I don't remember all that happened that day. I'm sure it involved not getting a moment alone, not getting a shower, having babies get sick on my shoulders. fussing kids, I may not have even gotten to eat anything other than little kid leftovers because I didn't have time to make me something to eat, the next paycheck never came fast enough. I do remember at the end of that day I told Jim, "I'm thankful for my microwave." THAT was my happy for the day. I had a microwave to warm a bottle for a crying baby, I had a microwave to thaw meat for dinner. There is always something to be happy about. I hope you find the happy in your life today. And think of the moms in your life...like our foster kids, they don't have to be your biological mom...there are all kinds of moms out there that have loved us and helped us become the people we are today.
I'll write a blog again this week, I've got lots to say. :) Until then, I hope you find the happy and feel free to share it here or anywhere for others to see. Happiness is contagious!
Me, mom & dad 1975, my brother is behind the camera
My parents were foster parents for 9 or 10 years when I was growing up. I loved being involved when I was a kid but it was years later that I gained full appreciation for that experience and the opportunity it gave me to grow as a future mom. The heart breaking moments were when I'd watch my mom cry for days over a foster child going back to their mom. Just because they weren't living with us anymore didn't mean she quit worrying and praying for them. These kids all grew to love her and call her mom. She treated them just like she did my brother and myself and they had the same expectations we had. I got to see how excited she was when a 12 year old girl moved in with us and she was reading at a second grade level. By the beginning of the school year this girl was reading at her appropriate grade level. My mom was so proud of this young girl, who was the same age I was. I think she was my favorite foster sister. Probably because I had a built in friend to always hang out with. We did argue like sisters but it always ended with an apology and laughter, usually strongly encouraged by mom. Had it not been for my parents fostering others' babies until they were ready to, I wouldn't have learned how to do the basic baby or child care. I learned how to calm down a crying baby, change diapers, the unpleasant job of washing cloth diapers, how to patiently solve children disputes, how to unconditionally love every child.
me with 2 foster brothers, I'm 9 or 10. My brother was about to leave home and I was stepping into life as the oldest kid at home.
me & Tammy Welch, we are 12. She'd learned to read but we hadn't yet learned how to read a recipe box. Mom's birthday cake...fail! Mom told me years later dad was taking pieces of cake to work and throwing them away so we'd think it was being eaten. fortunately I've learned a thing or 2 since then.
By natural birth order, I'm the baby. I was reading the Birth Order book a few years ago. I initially read it as a mother, but then started reading it as a child. I found it a very interesting book. It says that after a four year gap, the next child will have the first born characteristics. Which explains why my brother and I have many typical first born personality traits. We are both protective of one another and our families, we are ambitious, if there's a problem in a situation--we are not afraid to find a solution and try it out. If there's something we want or need to do, we find a way to do it or get it done. Having foster siblings I was not only the baby of the family and after my brother moved out, I was the only child at home; I had the opportunity to be the oldest, only, youngest and middle child. As I read the Birth Order Book, it was so interesting to me how I could relate with each birth order and the "difficulties and successes" they can have in a family. Had it not been for my parents being foster parents I wouldn't have learned as much as I did in life, as a child, about parenting, about loving others and doing good in the world and not expecting anything in return.
When my oldest daughter, Kara, was 7 she was the oldest of four babies. I relied on her to be my extra arms when I went someplace. "Kara can you push the stroller while I carry the car seat and diaperbag and hold so and so's hand?" She would always happily jump in line and push the stroller, she rarely complained about doing a chore for me or helping pick up toys her younger siblings threw around. Nate, my now 7 year old son, has never pushed a stroller, helped change a diaper, entertained a younger sibling while I make dinner or get a quick shower. I love each of my children fiercely and just as much as I love the next one. I love different things about each one too. While Nate is the baby of the family, he does things that Kara didn't need to or have the opportunity to do. We were a young family and didn't have much money when she was little. Jim was still in college, we were still finding our way in life. She had 2 years with me 24/7. She doesn't remember those years but she didn't have to share me with anyone, ever. When Courtney, our second baby, came along Kara was so excited to share me and to have someone she got to love on, hold, feed and play with. Nate doesn't have the opportunity to love on a sweet new baby, but he does have to share me...all the time, with everyone. Kids learn to share when they're two or three. We had to find ways to teach Kara to do this with us. Nate was born sharing. He shares my time, my hugs, my conversations. He shares his life and time at baseball diamonds, high school musicals, jr high plays, elementary choir concerts, soccer fields. Now he's at the age that he's getting involved in things outside of our family. He's loving being a big kid and showing off for his family, "just like my big brother and sisters."
Kara 7, Court 5, Natalie 2 weeks, Hunter 16 months, Jim (29 but don't tell him I told ya!)
So on this mother's day, I think of my mom and all she taught me by example and by stopping what she's doing for a sweet teaching moment. I'm thankful they were foster parents. I have lost contact with all of our foster children, but loved each of them and would've defended them all just like they were my blood brothers and sisters. I feel fortunate having had a rare opportunity to "safely" see firsthand the sadness some families have, the result of not having loving supportive parents. All of these things have helped me be the mother I am and the person I am today. I hope I honor and will continue to honor my parents by living the life I do and always trying my best to be the best mom, wife and person I can be.
There is always something happy about every day. I once had a very bad, hard day. I don't remember all that happened that day. I'm sure it involved not getting a moment alone, not getting a shower, having babies get sick on my shoulders. fussing kids, I may not have even gotten to eat anything other than little kid leftovers because I didn't have time to make me something to eat, the next paycheck never came fast enough. I do remember at the end of that day I told Jim, "I'm thankful for my microwave." THAT was my happy for the day. I had a microwave to warm a bottle for a crying baby, I had a microwave to thaw meat for dinner. There is always something to be happy about. I hope you find the happy in your life today. And think of the moms in your life...like our foster kids, they don't have to be your biological mom...there are all kinds of moms out there that have loved us and helped us become the people we are today.
I'll write a blog again this week, I've got lots to say. :) Until then, I hope you find the happy and feel free to share it here or anywhere for others to see. Happiness is contagious!
Thursday, May 1, 2014
NASA has Houston, we have our kitchen.
I have a sign above my kitchen window that reads, "Kitchens are made to bring families together." It's absolutely true in my house. Our kitchen is Command Central. EVERY thing happens in our kitchen! Mail gets delivered, homework is done, breakfast and after school snacks are eaten around the island. School day chats happen around the island. Parties start and stop here. If I ever lose a teenager I know right were to look for them...in front of the refrigerator! Coupon clipping and grocery list making, dancing, singing and of course cooking and cleaning all happen in the kitchen.
Our kitchen is a slow work in progress. As time and money come together we are making it the perfect kitchen for us. With all the goes on in our kitchen I wanted a high energy, creative, warm color on the walls. I love red, so that's what I chose. The stove in the island was a must go. We've moved the refrigerator to the left, the stove where the refrigerator was. The refrigerator is the most crucial part of our kitchen. Not only does it hold all of the best foods, it has all of our most important information.
Our oldest daughter came home for Christmas break and was so excited to share her great idea, "We use the refrigerator as a white board. We leave messages for each other on it." Ding Ding Ding!!! Great idea moment!!!! With leftover chalkboard paint from my youngest son's bedroom, I thought, "I can stop the question of 'What's for dinner?'!" So, I painted the freezer door with chalkboard paint. I then painted a blank calendar and made magnets with each child's name and chores. Now if anyone wants to know what's for dinner or who has what chore, we look on the freezer. Just like Kara, we use the refrigerator as a white board. I have a dry erase marker in a nearby drawer and the kids know that if they use the last of something, they write it on the "white board" and that's how I start my shopping list. No more forgotten ponytail holders, toothpaste, mousse or favorite lunch food. I don't know that I would do this to a new refrigerator but this very loved "fridge" is at least 10 years old. The handle cover is missing and they don't make them this big anymore. So we are using this until it dies and can no longer be repaired...or until we no longer need to hold 5 gallons of milk on one shelf. The bucket on top of the refrigerator is where I keep all of our paper plates and plastic cups & forks. Quick grab for extra kids, BBQs or impromptu gatherings with starving kids.
On the wall to the left of the fridge is the remainder of Command Central. I found a calendar at flylady.net that is the perfect calendar for us! It has EIGHT spaces on it...everyone has a space on every date. I LOVE this calendar. The bulletin board has homework deadlines, receipts for internet orders, pictures of our extended family. Once a week we gather the kids around the dining room table and have dessert while we go over the family calendar. Dessert is a must to keep all the kids in one spot long enough to do the boring stuff. We go day by day to find out who needs to be where, who's going to take them, how many drivers we need each night, who's working when, who has what homework deadlines, community, church or school meetings.
So, this is how I do what I do. How we get where we need to get. It takes some time to get us all organized but it's so worth it as things seem to run a bit more smoothly most days. I find it's easier to find the happy when we're not stressing about who needs to be where and we don't hear, "We're out of toilet paper!" or "I need white posterboard for a project tonight!" Life with children, regardless of the size of family, needs flexibility. Which is why I chose a chalkboard, whiteboard, bulletin board and paper calendar. Everything is erasable and can be easily moved around if needed.
I hope these ideas help you or at least inspire creativity in you to find what works for your family.
Until my next post, remember to find the happy in life.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
The Blog dilemma
This is my third attempt to write my next blog entry. So many things run through my mind about what to write. How we stay afloat with our busy life, the comments we get as we go anyplace together, the blog name & thoughts behind it. One friend recommend the latter, be where I start. Maybe I'll follow his advice and see where it takes me.
I have only one older brother, no sisters. Growing up the only thing I really felt like I missed out on was having a sister. Don't get me wrong, my brother is amazing and I couldn't ask for a better one. Though, I would often watch my friends interact with their sisters and wonder what it would be like to have clothes to share, inside jokes that no one else got, another girl to talk to about dumb girl stuff or boys. When I realized some don't have an older brother, I felt kind of lucky because I did.
Having an older brother has proven so amazingly beneficial in my life. When our mom was in the hospital on life support for 10 days, he was there to help buffer the questions and phone calls, decipher the medical jargon we heard daily, we shared crying shoulders and listening ears. He's just old enough to be ahead of me in life a little so I can look at how he and his amazing wife have raised their babies, how they've done the balancing act we all do with family life, jobs, social activities, etc. As a little kid he was often my body guard. I didn't think twice about threatening anyone who was messing with me, "You better watch out because I will have my brother come find you. And you won't be laughing then!" I'd go tell my brother and he'd give me this smile that I took to mean, "I got ya covered, Sis." We had this awesome maple tree in our side yard with the coolest tire swing in town. My brother would load 5 or 6 girls on the tire swing, give it a big spin and then toss us toward the sky. Those were the best summer days ever. One day my legs had flipped out of the swing and we were spinning so fast I couldn't hold my head up and was terrified I'd lose grip of the rope. I'm sure onlookers had the best laugh watching him try to save his screaming little sister from flying into the house or neighbor's yard. Every time my legs would spin past him he'd jump in to slow us down only to be slammed into by my flailing legs as I'd come back around. When he did get us slowed down enough that it was safe to let go all the girls fell off the swing into one big pile, laughing at how funny we must've looked.
Having a brother when I started a blog has again been helpful. I posted on facebook in a group we're both belong to, that I was starting a blog and my struggles with finding a name. My brother, not to disappoint his little sister, throws out a bunch of silly suggestions. One though really was a good idea. Sadly, that one had been taken by someone who no longer uses her blog. What were his other suggestions, you ask? A Whiff of Tiff, Sniff Tiff, I found Waldo and he's a fraud, off the cliff with Tiff. I checked these out and amazingly, some of them are used names for blogs!! The blog remained unnamed.
A few more weeks went by and my kids kept bugging me about starting a blog. I told them all to give me ideas for blog names and we'll look them up. They all shouted out names, some I knew would've been taken. Laughsalot, lovinglife, brightside... Hunter, my 14 yr old son, says; "how about 3 ring circus?" I checked, of course that was taken. Seeing my disappointment, my husband says, "personalize it. How many tiffanys 3 ring circus' are out there?" BINGO!
My blog had a name! Now the pressure of writing once a week. I've had so many ideas of things to write about but still not sure where this will blog will end up. I often have new ideas, but rarely GREAT ones that I'm really proud to say, "look!! I have an idea that is amazing!" I do, however; have one but will save that for the next blog. Until then..... have a great day and remember to always find the Happy in life.
I have only one older brother, no sisters. Growing up the only thing I really felt like I missed out on was having a sister. Don't get me wrong, my brother is amazing and I couldn't ask for a better one. Though, I would often watch my friends interact with their sisters and wonder what it would be like to have clothes to share, inside jokes that no one else got, another girl to talk to about dumb girl stuff or boys. When I realized some don't have an older brother, I felt kind of lucky because I did.
Having an older brother has proven so amazingly beneficial in my life. When our mom was in the hospital on life support for 10 days, he was there to help buffer the questions and phone calls, decipher the medical jargon we heard daily, we shared crying shoulders and listening ears. He's just old enough to be ahead of me in life a little so I can look at how he and his amazing wife have raised their babies, how they've done the balancing act we all do with family life, jobs, social activities, etc. As a little kid he was often my body guard. I didn't think twice about threatening anyone who was messing with me, "You better watch out because I will have my brother come find you. And you won't be laughing then!" I'd go tell my brother and he'd give me this smile that I took to mean, "I got ya covered, Sis." We had this awesome maple tree in our side yard with the coolest tire swing in town. My brother would load 5 or 6 girls on the tire swing, give it a big spin and then toss us toward the sky. Those were the best summer days ever. One day my legs had flipped out of the swing and we were spinning so fast I couldn't hold my head up and was terrified I'd lose grip of the rope. I'm sure onlookers had the best laugh watching him try to save his screaming little sister from flying into the house or neighbor's yard. Every time my legs would spin past him he'd jump in to slow us down only to be slammed into by my flailing legs as I'd come back around. When he did get us slowed down enough that it was safe to let go all the girls fell off the swing into one big pile, laughing at how funny we must've looked.
Having a brother when I started a blog has again been helpful. I posted on facebook in a group we're both belong to, that I was starting a blog and my struggles with finding a name. My brother, not to disappoint his little sister, throws out a bunch of silly suggestions. One though really was a good idea. Sadly, that one had been taken by someone who no longer uses her blog. What were his other suggestions, you ask? A Whiff of Tiff, Sniff Tiff, I found Waldo and he's a fraud, off the cliff with Tiff. I checked these out and amazingly, some of them are used names for blogs!! The blog remained unnamed.
A few more weeks went by and my kids kept bugging me about starting a blog. I told them all to give me ideas for blog names and we'll look them up. They all shouted out names, some I knew would've been taken. Laughsalot, lovinglife, brightside... Hunter, my 14 yr old son, says; "how about 3 ring circus?" I checked, of course that was taken. Seeing my disappointment, my husband says, "personalize it. How many tiffanys 3 ring circus' are out there?" BINGO!
My blog had a name! Now the pressure of writing once a week. I've had so many ideas of things to write about but still not sure where this will blog will end up. I often have new ideas, but rarely GREAT ones that I'm really proud to say, "look!! I have an idea that is amazing!" I do, however; have one but will save that for the next blog. Until then..... have a great day and remember to always find the Happy in life.
Friday, April 25, 2014
What is in a name?
I believe I'm putting too much pressure on this post, my first post in my first blog. First I had to find a name. Every single name I looked for had been taken; leading me to believe that I don't have an original thought in my brain. With a little help from my friends and a lot from my family. My son threw out, "3 ring circus", which was taken...so I personalized it and voila! I have a blog name.
Sites and books I read about blogs had differing views about blog names. Some said, it's not as important as the content--which I agree with--while others said, you need to find one that's easy to remember, reflects your view or attitude of what your content will be. Trying to find the "perfect" blog name had me thinking about my life and my life's philosophy. The name we found isn't about my philosophy but my husband and I sometimes feel like ringmasters in our little circus trying to get everyone fed and where they need to be. The name is good....It's who we are.
The book I was reading had a chapter about what you want to have in your blog..what's your voice? What's the goal for your blog? I didn't know. I still don't know. I guess the purpose of this blog is to 1. help connect our family, both immediate and extended and 2. help someone in some way. So if this blog does that, then I think it's a successful blog.
My mom had 2 children and she passed away when we only had our first 2 babies. When it came to asking for advice on how to juggle a big family I couldn't ask my mom. I turned to lots of parenting books, my brother and sister-in-law, friends and people that had already experienced all that we were doing. Most days, I don't know how I do what I do. Sometimes my planning goes off as intended, other days I just wing it and say, that's just how it goes.
I believe in paying it forward. My hope is that this blog will pay it forward as a thank you to those that helped me enjoy my life adventure and will hopefully do good for someone else too.
Sites and books I read about blogs had differing views about blog names. Some said, it's not as important as the content--which I agree with--while others said, you need to find one that's easy to remember, reflects your view or attitude of what your content will be. Trying to find the "perfect" blog name had me thinking about my life and my life's philosophy. The name we found isn't about my philosophy but my husband and I sometimes feel like ringmasters in our little circus trying to get everyone fed and where they need to be. The name is good....It's who we are.
The book I was reading had a chapter about what you want to have in your blog..what's your voice? What's the goal for your blog? I didn't know. I still don't know. I guess the purpose of this blog is to 1. help connect our family, both immediate and extended and 2. help someone in some way. So if this blog does that, then I think it's a successful blog.
My mom had 2 children and she passed away when we only had our first 2 babies. When it came to asking for advice on how to juggle a big family I couldn't ask my mom. I turned to lots of parenting books, my brother and sister-in-law, friends and people that had already experienced all that we were doing. Most days, I don't know how I do what I do. Sometimes my planning goes off as intended, other days I just wing it and say, that's just how it goes.
I believe in paying it forward. My hope is that this blog will pay it forward as a thank you to those that helped me enjoy my life adventure and will hopefully do good for someone else too.
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