My one-of-a-kind mother

She is 64 years beautiful, my one and only, not-like-any-other-mother in all the world.  I haven’t ever met anyone quite like her, and I don’t guess I ever will.

When asked by her friend how she’d like to spend her birthday (today), she answered “a picnic in the Arboretum with my daughters and granddaughters”.  So that’s just what we did, a girl day in all of Spring’s blooming, pink glory.  And we even had an extra bonus, my mom’s younger sister was here unexpectedly and got to join in the fun!

She’s the one who can step up, step in when there is a mess of any sort…be it the heart kind or the laundry kind.  She has listened and loved for so many hundreds of hours over the past 35 years of my life and I’m just now beginning to understand the greatness of that gift.  She has offered wisdom and grace and encouragement when my need has been paramount.  She has stepped out in faith, taken risks, been brave and continued to pursue Jesus with all her heart.  She has modeled a faithful, unwavering commitment to the vows of marriage, which in this era is a fading thing of beauty.  That we’ve been blessed to live within 30 minutes drive of her and my dad for these past 15 years is such a treasure.

What a perfect day we had to celebrate!  Warm spring days aren’t any given around these parts and we couldn’t have asked for a better one.  Nor could any of us girls have asked for a better mom.  Each of our lives holds all sorts of bits and pieces of her life and love all wrapped up into the women we are still becoming.

Thank you mom for letting each of us be “us”
and loving us
better with every passing year.

I read these verses this morning and they so describe my parents, we may be more familiar with the cherry tree instead of the cedars of Lebanon but certainly they are planted and rooted in God’s house, still bearing fruit in their “old” age, full of “green” life and declaring still the faithfulness of God…

The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon.  They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God.  They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green, to declare that the Lord is upright; he is my rock, there is no unrighteousness in him. (Psalm 92:12-15)

An epic night

We got an email invitation a few weeks ago to jedi warriors and princesses for a galactic evening to remember at Nana and Papa’s house.  In unbelievable Star Wars style, Monday night went down as one of the most anticipated fun fests in the history of the lives of our children….

The oldest four knocked on the door.  They waited and knocked again.  They were all dressed up as four Star Wars characters.  Then there was music.  Even through the front door we heard the blaring soundtrack as the exuberant “grandmother of Princess Leia” answered the door.  The kids grinned and went in.  “Welcome to the Crazy Canteena” she told them.  They walked upstairs to the kitchen and were greeted by tons of fog/smoke (from dry ice) pouring off the counters and a “fierce ” looking bad
guy (?) reaching up from the mist.

The kids did a dance in the kitchen with “Grandmother” and “Unknown Bad Guy Papa”

We had dinner, below is the ridiculously creative menu from Nana:

Then Papa gave a lesson from the Bible on wearing God’s armor and how God has the power to defeat all the bad.  It was pretty awesome.

Dessert was Death Star balls and little Darth Vader Delights – how cute are those little bad dudes?

It was a night to remember. We feel totally thankful to have such stellar grandparents for our kids nearby.  It is precious.

The pumpkin tradition

I wrote last year how much comfort we found in the months after we lost Chris’ dad in the simplest things.  Like doing the same things we’d done the year before and the year before that.  Pumpkins are one of those things.  And pulling into Bob’s Corn is the essence of autumn for us.  The kids look forward to the bumpy, uncomfortable cow train every year.  We’ve learned to bring garbage bags for muddy boots and fresh pants for the ride home.

Tradition doesn’t have to be big or expensive.  It’s just totally lovely sometimes to establish things that you can look forward to doing together again.

Next year this little girl will want to ride all by herself…and Finn will be big enough to ride on my lap!

Nana got in on the cow train fun – she wants everyone to know that the back is the most exciting/dangerous/bumpy place on the whole train

Note the Papa in the back, he’s trying to keep up with all his grandsons!

Can you tell he’s a little silly happy to have these three awesome men as son-in-laws?

The sisters – yes, I’ve worn that same jacket three years in a row!

Like Nana’s boots?

Oh the joy of the cousins – Issac told his mama the night before we went “I’m tired of doing all this stuff.  I just want to go to the pumpkin patch with my cousins.”  Who could blame him for that?!?

Too cute.  Last year she slept through the whole thing – totally ready for action this October!

Seven grandkids ages 8 months to 8 years!

How to surprise yourself

On a mundane Monday morning after a week of the hubby being with family 24/7 for his vacation, ponder how you can get some more time with him because, well, you miss him already.

Text beloved babysitter to see if she can babysit Friday night for a date night.  Grin when she says yes.  Vow to not tell hubby and surprise him.

Promptly erase calendar and start with next weeks date just to be efficient.

Brim thankfulness for a mother who offers out of the blue to watch all kids but the baby for a half a day so the mama can get life/home/self ready for the new homeschool year.

Spend nap times and night times organizing, planning, mapping out how to make one favorite quote from Charlotte Mason about education become reality:

Education is atmosphere.

Shop and think and rearrange and prepare.  Rearrange again.

Get lost in the details of everyday life.  Clean up spit up 8 times every day.  Feed small, hungry army.  Ponder why one child is not coping with life well this week.

Wake early on aforementioned Friday after broken and little sleep.

Wish I drank full caffeinated coffee.  Or Red Bull.  Or something.  Settle for home brewed Kombucha instead.

Ready kids to go with Nana.  Slightly embarrassed at the state the minivan, apologize for the mess.

Ready self to paint a large family/school room in 4 hours with a baby to tend to and a 7 year old enlisted at the last minute to help.

Work crazy hard and come close to finishing when kids rush back in the front door.

Chat with hubby throughout the work day.  Plan on taco tostadas for dinner.  Start cooking.

Still wearing jammies (now deemed ‘painting jammies’) from last night and smelling a lot less than fresh after the days labors, cook dinner, hold baby and supervise crew as husband rolls in.

Quietly think about how to get the paint dog paw prints off the carpet.  Wonder why she had to walk through the paint tray instead of around it.

Smile proud when he sees the paint job (anything was better than the key lime green he’s pleasantly put up with for two years now).

He dons pj pants and grabs a paint brush to pick up the rest of the job.

Puzzled at a dinner time door knock, figure its a neighbor and head to door in jammies with babe in arms.

A babysitter.  OUR babysitter.  But why I ask myself?  I look inquisitive and wonder.

She sees my confusion and asks, “Did you forget?”

Yes.  I completely, totally forgot my ‘surprise’.  And in the most delightful way, managed to plan my very own surprise date night, for myself.  Truly, I could not have pulled it off if I’d tried.

I holler that she’s here and say “Throw some clothes on, let’s go!”.  We all laugh, a lot.

“Hope you like tacos!” I quip to our sweet sitter.  I ask how she is and eyes well instantly, “Not so great…”.  All the kids hover in the kitchen and though my better judgement says don’t subject her to a hug give my jammie-clad-smelly state, I can’t do anything but.  Baby Finn gets squished pleasantly and I apologize for being sweaty.  Plain old, pure love may not always smell good, but it always feels good.

We clean up quick, the four-days-since-getting-washed hair stays in a pony tail.  The green paint stain I can’t get off my arm remains. No time for makeup or anything really, we hightail it to the restaurant where we have a great coupon I’ve been saving, you know, for this well-planned date night.

I giggle.  And we relish the time.  We talk goals and ideas for the new year at hand.  He makes sense of what I can’t figure out.  Love how he can do that when I just let him.

A special place

Many years ago when my grandparents health was failing and my parents were forced to make hard choices about selling the family summer home on the beach just north of here, it was devastating.  I had endless memories, the happiest and best ones, of spending time there together year after year.  It took me 7 years to even go there again to visit.  But as the years passed my parents sought out a new ‘special place’ to build family memories.  They bought a timeshare condo in the mountains less than two hours from here.  Our kids are already enjoying the sweet predictability of ‘doing the same thing’ just like my sisters’ and I did growing up.  There is something rich about tradition.

That’s what drove me to pack up the van, travel without my husband and head north for two days despite a slightly sick baby and knowing I’d not sleep much at all.

So we could hike Horseshoe Bend trail….again.

So we could throw countless sticks and rocks into the raging river –

So Nana could look all “Daniel Boone” like this –

So we could discover a natural-formed teeter totter log –

So Finn could go on his first backpack hike and fall asleep –

So Audrey could squeal every time she watched a blue jay steal a peanut from our deck –

So we could swim and swim and swim some more!