Sundays-

     We live in a great neighborhood- we have amazing friends across the street, down the road, and right next door. Often we will plan to have potluck style suppers in the evenings on Sundays.  Because of this I love the idea of Sundays! From the feeling of peace and grace when you enter a church building to the serenity when you leave a well spoken sermon. The homey smells of Sunday supper cooking and of laughing kids as they play in the yard while everyone gathers to eat. It is one of my favorite days over all.
      However, I absolutely hate Sunday mornings.... I don't understand how each weekday everyone can easily get themselves dressed and groomed in an orderly fashion to leave the house by 7:30am but on Sunday mornings we can't manage to achieve the same feat by 11:00 and forget about making it to Sunday School by 10:00.  The fight and fuss will not begin to allow it! Between Squirt and Squeak battling at the top of their lungs and Bubba hollering because they are doing so in front of the TV there is no peace, serenity or beauty in a Sunday morning. With two televisions blaring so loudly you can't think all I really want to do is put in some earplugs and go back to bed, completely forgetting about the rest of it. Needless to say we will typically slink in to church right as the announcements are being read and as quiet has descended on the congregation making my husband cranky we are late and me flushed with worry and rushing.
    Thankfully by the time we leave services I have typically cooled down and am feeling better only to get to start being frazzled all over again in the flurry of lunch and nap time whining... Why do I love Sundays again?

     Oh right because even through the fuss and muss it is spent with all my little monsters, my husband and friends and it means I get to rest on Monday when I get back to the office.

Where does the time go?

My Flowers :)

Today is the day... 13 years ago today my oldest son was born- yes we have finally reached the dreaded teen years. Not to say that Bubba's emotional tangents, verbal tirades and attitude didn't rival those of any 16 year old hormone filled adolescent during his last few "tween" years- but officially it has now begun.  Even so on certain days I still see that sweet little boy who smiled brightly and handed me my first Mother's Day bouquet of handmade paper flowers in a decorated soup can vase and the beaded necklace to go with it.

The beautiful necklace

      Where does the time go? I look in the mirror and staring back I see the fleeting years of my youth and can't regret the things I have done. They have made me who I am, they have given me what I have and who I have in my life. They have brought me everything. But from smallest to biggest I struggle every day to see the cherubic infant inside my growing children's faces and wonder if looking back they will feel the same way? Will they find regret in their youth? Will they find happiness and wisdom as they grow and mature? My only hope is they live their lives as completely and fully as they can with no regrets, but with a sense of moral strength, faith, love and security. Security in the fact that no matter their struggles life always turns out exactly as it should if you believe in your self and keep your family close. Happy Birthday Bubba- we love you.

My Boy!

Getting Started...

So here we go... 
         With such an amazing amount of stress in my life I read somewhere or heard, probably from some quack on tv or the internet, that a blog- like a journal could be therapeutic and stress relieving so I thought why not lets add one more thing to my list of stuff to try and get done. I have three children, a full time job, school, a husband, and laundry. Lots and lots and lots of laundry! No really - lots of laundry- I am certain my kids wear 63 outfits a piece a day at least and my husband well lets just say that my kids do not get their clothing genes from me...  Their tastes perhaps but not their penchant for dirtying everything in their wardrobe in a day!
     Now technically speaking I am a terrible writer. I don't spell well (thank God for spell check- even in texts and IM's), I punctuate terribly and my word choice isn't always the best. But I have discovered in recent blog perusal that this doesn't seem to matter in the least. However, I would still like to take a moment to apologize for my weaknesses, especially to those of you out there who do these things beautifully. So in the end I may not end up a consistent blogger but then with God's sense of humor and my children and their rambunctious behavior who knows I just might have more to say than I think.