scott and jesus have a few things in common... just so you know

i have been a wee bit hard on the hubs as of late.  in fact, the dude has been single dad'in it for the past two weekends while i have been off celebrating my sister's wedding and participating in a women's retreat.  he's a good man.  but he needs a shout out...  and so here you have it, a long overdue hip hip for the hubs...

and now for the story.

last june scott and i were sitting at the kitchen table chatting, sipping some joe and just hanging on a saturday morning.  i was also catching up on pinterest.  not familiar?  i promise, you are better off.  moving on...

i was looking at pins and came across this beautiful image of a backyard playhouse.  i loved everything about it.  i swear, it looked like the photo in the pin had been taken in my very own backyard.  i showed the pin to scott and said, "isn't this adorbs?"  

his immediate reply, "i could make that."

me:  "really?"

him:  "sure"

me:  "what makes you think so?

him:  "because i can?"

me:  "we've been married for almost ten years, babe.  i never knew.  are you sure?"

him:  "i'm sure"

me:  "how do you know?"

and it went on like this for a bit.  i had no idea that my husband was a carpenter.  i mean, he loves jesus and all...  but skills?  i wasn't so sure.

me:  "were you looking at the right picture?  this one?  right here?"  (i didn't really say that.  just adding it in to embellish)

me:  "the girls would love that!"

him:  "i'm on it."

and so for the next two weekends, scott donned his carpenter belt (he doesn't really have one...  but maybe he should).  really...  he went to work building a platform, and then walls, and then a roof.  he built stairs and then porch railings.

and about 14 days post my, "really?", he produced the most adorable playhouse for our three little girlies.

you may recall that this momma is fearful of the play dough, resistant to get out the smock and brushes, has a slight aversion to mess of all sorts...  but this playhouse has liberated me (that and the warm climate we now live in).

girl:  "momma, can we play with play dough?"

me:  "yes!"

girl:  "momma, can we paint?"

me:  "yes!"

girl:  "momma, do we have glitter?"

me:  "it's in the play house!  glitter away.  create.  craft.  dough.  paint.  i can't wait to see what you make...  outside...  far away from the inside...  where i don't have to clean it...  and it doesn't scatter all over our home...  yes!"

and so for almost a year now...  we have been in playhouse heaven.  the guy down the street said that scott was making the dad's of the world look back.  i say, he's making this mom happy.

did i mention that i married the best dad ever???

pixie hollow

for the better part of the last six months my girls have been obsessed with one thing when they play outside.  my girls are obsessed with fairies.  i don't really know why.  it just sort of happened in the late fall, was embraced when grandma visited in december, and has continued well into the spring.  

it was getting out of control.  the kids were making traps all over the back yard.  i would look out the kitchen window and see piles of sticks under the walnut tree, rock stacks next to a basket (stairs so that the fairy could make it into the bed) in the middle of the lawn.  leaf collections...  what have you.  and it was getting a little bit out of control.  and we wanted to beautify the back yard a little.  and fairy houses nature piles just don't quite work with my gardening layout.  

and so in an effort to prepare the yard for the makeover that it was about to receive, we had the girls clean up the fairy houses.  they were good sports about it and understood that in order to lay sod we would need the basket collection to be relocated.  we designated a spot for where they could continue to set their traps and then went about the business of beautifying.  it was a lot of work, but a few weekends later, we had reached the desired goal- an inexpensive partial backyard makeover to at least cover the pile of dirt that it was when we bought the house.  

during this process of planting, i found myself at a local nursery looking at plants.  on our way out of the nursery, the girls and i discovered a collection of fairy gardens.  the gardener at the nursery had taken some broken pots, added some vegetation to them, furniture, cute little signs (like "fairies welcome" and "please come in tinkerbell") and turned them into fairy houses.

adorable.

i stopped dead in my tracks and we gushed over them for a few moments.  i had never seen anything like it and was found them to be lovely.

after a few minutes of taking them in, we hoped in the car.  on the ride home i asked the girls what they might enjoy doing over spring break (which was the following week).  all three of them yelled out in unison, "we want to make fairy houses!".

and so we did.  we are waiting for a cute little fairy swing, willow framed bed and table to arrive from a garden store in ohio, but aside from that, they are done.  each girl designed their own and they now sit awaiting fairies beneath our apple tree.  

and while this was certainly not the motivation, i haven't seen traces of stone stacks or stick piles anywhere.  

i'll also let you in on a little secret if you promise not to tell.  according to e, she has caught a fairy and he is living in the pot with the freesia.  

rock the potty

i have three children.  e and d potty trained themselves.  i am not kidding.  e's older cousin (by a few months visited right after he mastered the potty).  e was totally jelly and followed suit right after he left. it was three days max.  

you may remember that d wanted to rock the potty about a week before her second birthday...  while her daddy-o was preparing for the california bar exam.  i held her off until he was back among the living and she was good to go...  something like 2 and three months.  

and then there is the popster.  she loved her some cloth diapers.  loved 'em so much she had no desire to  move on.  why bother? 

at two and a half, this momma laid down the law and put my sweet p in momma potty training camp.  it was brutal.  eventually, she succumbed to the idea of letting her number one flush down the drain.  i was happy.  she was happy.  

but number two was a whole different story for kid number three.  she just didn't want to do it.  it was a quandary for me in the motherhood department.  should i keep diapering or should i just put her in panties and move on.  eventually she would get it.  right?

and so from february of last year to november of this year, my gal would let her number two loose in her big girl drawers.  gross.  but that is just how it went.  she is stubborn and i was tired.  you win some.  you lose some.

when she approached 2 1/2, i became less tolerant of the fact that this little monkey would not rock the potty.

in november, my babysitter gave me a call one night when scott and i were out.  the pops had rocked the potty!  the babysitter, having been with us for years, knew this was a huge deal.  she sang a song.  she did a dance.  she made this success be as huge as it was.  pops called to tell us the news.  we were elated.  overjoyed.  proud.

and then she relapsed.  i can't tell you why.  it is just what she did- in true poppy form, she was not quite ready to jump full hog into the number two.

am i really writing about this?  yup.  yes i am.

anyways.  in december we celebrated hanukkah with another baby-sitter/friend of ours.  we do this every year.  we celebrate her winter holiday and we play dreidle.  it is fun had by all.  the popster loves her some chocolate and she seemed to be the one that was most into this game this year.

when she left, we had a substantial amount of hanukkah gelt left-over.  i had a thought.  what if this special chocolate was just for p?  what if we channeled this love affair for gelt into a love affair for doing number 2 on the golden throne?   and so i gathered all of the gelt and put it into a mason jar.  i placed said jar on a shelf above the potty.  i had a meeting with kid three.

"pops, you rock the potty with your poo, you get a gelt.  are you down with that?"

she agreed.  and from the day the jar took residence in the bathroom, my little pops really rocked the potty completely.

this worked from december through march.  and then i noticed that the gelt was getting low.  oh no!

i had another meeting with pops.

"pops, the gelt is about to run out.  when it does, it is gone.  you are going to keep doing what you have been doing.  are we clear?"

"yup."

and so we have run out of gelt.  and a few weeks post reward, my pops is still rocking the potty.

mission accomplished.  we freecycled the training potty in february.  amen.

peace to the potty.

division of labor

while scott and i were expecting with e, we read through an obscene amount of baby books.  i won't tell you how many- just trust me when i say it was a little bit excessive.  in hind site, the process of reading them was probably good for my mental preparation-  the content of the books, not so much.  i think it is a fair assessment to say that parenting is a little less "book smarts" and a lot more "on the job training".

while reading all of this stuff, i remember coming across a list in one of the books.  the list sort of laid out the tasks that new baby will need completed on a regular basis.  scott and i just sat on the couch and stared at the list with our jaws down to our knees.  it was an alarming, eye opening, life-changing, moment.  it's not like we didn't know- but really, we didn't know.

and so in that moment, my hubs decided to choose his job.  both of us like predictability and so this worked for us.  he scrutinized the list from every angle and then declared that he would like to be in charge of bathing.

done.

and so when e arrived home from the hospital and was to get her first sponge bath, scott was the man on deck.  i sat on the floor next to him, taking a back seat.  when he needed something, i handed it to him.  but he was the always the first responder. 

this routine has continued successfully for 8 years.  i jump in from time to time to give him a break, or take over if he isn't home.  there have been times that they have needed an extra scrub-a-dub in a given week and i don't hesitate to give this to them.  but for the most part, daddy is the bath guy.

last night, scott was sitting in the bathroom hanging out while d and p were playing mermaid in the tub.  i walked in and scott and i chatted for a few minutes while they played.   as i was about to walk out, delaney called out to me to stay. 

"don't leave, mom.  i want YOU to be bath guide."

both scott and i turned and looked at her, with squinted eyes, necks extended like birds and mouth slightly open.

"what did you just say, buggy?"

"i said that i wanted you to be bath guide."

"bath guide?"

"yeah, you know, the one that tells us when to wash with soap and rinse and shampoo and to get out."

"i didn't know it had a title, delaney.  where did you hear that?"

"it's just what it is called!"

and so now you know.  the person that has hangs out in the bathroom guiding kiddos through this process does in fact have a title.  apparently, that person is called BATH GUIDE.

out of the mouths of babes.

scott and i both giggled for the rest of the night. 

the hotness

it is shocking to me how long it has been since i have blogged.  to be honest, i sort of fell out of love with the idea of writing my everyday thoughts for anyone else to see.  but as of recent, i have been thinking about why i started blogging to begin with.  it was an enjoyable way to create a baby book (of sorts) with my itty bittys.  ellie has a very detailed baby book and a scrapbook and a whole bunch of other written logs of her life- but for d i decided to blog.  it was hip and cool at the time, and let's face it, i like to write (as poor as i am at the craft).  and then i stopped.  i'm not totally sure why- it was a combination of things.  i felt exposed to new friends in this way, i became "busy", my computer crashed, it was a way to avoid laundry...  the list of "why i became a blogging quitter" became long.  and so i stopped.

this weekend i had a moment where i realized that i needed to get back to it.  it was a moment of transition in many ways.  let me explain.

my p-nut has been sleeping in our bed, in various forms, since her birth.  when she was first born, i would go to bed with her in the moses basket next to me.  when she would wake for a feeding, i'd reach over and pull her into bed with me to nurse.  while she would eat, i would drift off into sleep.  it was out of necessity, really.  i was tired and needed rest.  she was hungry and needed food.  we could both meet our needs simultaneously.  it worked for a while.  eventually, she outgrew the moses basket and transitioned to her crib in her very own room. for the middle of the night feed i would drag my tired body to the glider in her room, feed her and then return to my room.  she would wake again about an hour before i was ready to begin my day.  at this feed i would bring her back into bed with me.  it was usually after scott had left for work and i savored those extra minutes of rest, quite snuggles with my last baby, and time to transition into the day.  through that whole nursing era, pops would always snuggle with me in the same way.  i would sleep on my side, place my arm under her head, and hold her close with my other arm.  my knees were drawn up and it created a little pod for her to snuggle down into.  she loved it, in spite of the hot.  and be sure, it was a very warm little pod.

eventually, my pops stopped nursing and slept through the night...  for the most part.  after her first year, she would wake somewhere in the wee hours and cry for her momma.  no longer was my babe looking for food, but more looking for the warmth and security of that warm little pod that she had grown so accustomed to.  and i was a sucker for her cry.  for the second year of her little life, i would go to her bed and bring her back to mine, giving her what she wanted.  it was what i wanted too, if i'm totally honest.  i wanted those days of life with a wee one to last as long as they could.  i used to teach middle school and am no dummy- i know that those moments are fleeting.  sometimes they feel like a lifetime, but in reality, they disappear faster than one can imagine.

after my pops transitioned to her "big girl bed", she no longer would cry for me.  she would just scoot her little self out of her bed and into mine at some point in the morning hours.  the position was the same, with one adjustment.  as her body grew in length, she had to extend the pod.  somewhere along the way, my sweet p didn't fit with her knees drawn up and so she just shoved her little legs in between mine.  in fact, when i tried to modify our position, she rebelled.  she was not going to change...  she simply wanted to make a modification.  and so our new position became arm under head, arm around, and p's legs sandwiched between mine.  it was less than ideal, but it is amazing what one can adjust to when they value sleep.  i value sleep.

as she grew older, the time upon when she would arrive in our room became later and later.  it was sort of a dream.  as of recent, she would appear about 15 to 30 minutes before we were going to get up. her little face would appear standing next to my side of the bed, staring into my sleeping eyes.  eventually i would sense her there and ask her what she needed.  everyday her answer was the same, "i want the hotness, momma."  and then she would climb up into the middle of our bed and assume her position. there was something magical about that half hour.  snuggling with my itty bitty became my favorite part of any given day.  it was a peaceful transition from sleep to awake, even if it was a little "hot".

and then this weekend, something happened.

my pops came into our room at her usual time in the morning.  she climbed into position with ease and jammed her legs down between my bent knees.  i wrapped my arm around her and tried to drift off into those last minutes of snugly sleep.  but it didn't come.  my p could not keep still.  she could no longer find her "comfy spot".  she wriggled and jiggled, squirmed and wormed.  and then she announced, "momma, i don't fit."  and just as quickly as she had climbed into our bed, she climbed back out. 

"pops, where are you going?", i asked as she snuck out.

"back to my own bed, momma."

and then she was gone.

the end of an era.  she has not returned for two days.

sitting at the breakfast table today, i realized that life changes.  fast.  she was ready, while i was not.  i miss her soft sweeps of hair brushing up against my cheek.  i miss the warmth of her little body snuggled in tightly next to mine...  the smell of her sweaty blanket and the sounds of her thumb sucking. 

and it brought me back to the need for blogging.  this too could pass, but for now i want to write it down.  i want to record the details of their little lives.  the problems (yes, scott and i considered this co-sleeping to be a problem) of parenthood change on a dime.  perspective changes.  these little ones are only little for such a short period and the joys/struggles change just as quickly. 

sometimes i feel like life will never change.  sometimes the motherhood feels like it is an outtake from the movie "groundhogs day".  and then a new routine sets in.  it may be good and enjoyable.  it may be annoying and feel like it won't ever stop.  but eventually everything changes.  life moves forward- when we want it to and feel like it never will and when we don't want it to and it does anyhow.

and so to pops- you may never remember this era.  your little three year old mind will most likely not retain this early morning snuggle time.  but for me, it will remain etched in my mind as a special time that we shared together. 

i miss you already.  we will redefine it, for sure, but it won't ever be what it was.

i want you to grow up, little pops, i do.  but i can't say that it doesn't come without a little bit of nostalgia for what we had.

while i never thought i would say this, i miss the hotness.

Ryan Anderson

when i was a little girl i had a signature song.  every time we would go on a family trip, we would sing through our family song list.  we'd sing a song about the three jolly fishermen, we'd sing about shoo fly pie, we'd sing about the old crow.  sometimes, we'd even sing a made up song about the town where my grandparents lived.  on each of these sing-a-longs, my dad would at some point ask me to sing my song.  i have deep and vivid memories of standing up on the floorboard of our red station wagon and belting out "Jesus Loves Me".  (this was long before the days of seat belt laws for elementary aged kiddos.)  and as i remember this, i can still feel the pride and joy that i would feel in this moment.  i was elated that my daddy would request it and as the third child it meant so much that it was declared as my song.  i didn't get those moments all that often, to be the star or the center, so when they happened they were significant.  what i didn't know at that time was that it was bigger than just being in the center.  it was a moment where i believe that God was using an experience to write a much larger message on my heart.  He was stamping me with a truth that later on in life i would declare as mine.  Jesus loves ME.  He loved me as an itty bitty and He loves me now as a momma, wife, friend, car pool driver, nose wiper, panty poop cleaner (a story for another day).  and as is the case with so many simple truths, they are also quite complex.  this is a perfect example of that.  

for the past three years i have been tucking my sweet p into bed each night.  when she was an itty bitty, i would pray for her and then sing her a song.  in the first year of her life, i would choose the song.  the selection changed from night to night.  but as my birdie grew, so did her preferences.  somewhere around two years ago she started requesting the song that i would sing to her.  from the beginning of this requesting phase the song has remained the same.  each night, after praying for my littlest one, she asks me to sing "Jesus Loves Me" to her.  

for the first few weeks of this routine i didn't think much about it.  i just sort of went through the motions and sang her the song.  after a while, i started suggesting new songs to her (because if i am quite honest, mom grew tired of the same old ditty night after night).  but my p was firm and for the better part of two years, she continues to ask for "Jesus Loves Me".  somewhere deep into this routine, i began to realize that it was bigger than momma singing her a song before bed.  i had a moment where i realized that i was repeating a pattern, one that would hopefully carve a message into her heart much the same way that my childhood singing had carved this truth into my own heart.  it made me smile when i realized this.  i don't know what her walk with Jesus will look like, but i stand in confidence that these little moments will draw her to the one that loves her better than anyone else...  my sweet Jesus.

and while i am writing a message on her little heart, i have also grown to realize that i am also re-declaring a truth in my own heart.  at the end of each day i am reminding myself, my 36 year old self, that Jesus loves me, too.  you'd think i would have that down by now, right?  i do in most ways, but at the end of a tired long day with three little monkeys it lifts my heart a bit and allows this momma to rest on this simple truth.  in the good momma moments, in the challenging momma moments, in the stressful ones...  God's love ripples through me and settles my soul.  i love that about my God.  i love that He gives us the portion of Him that we need right when we need it in such gentle and meaningful ways.  simple yet quite complex.

yesterday, i had a long conversation with my hubs (a proud eagle scout) about the situation dealing with  a local boy, ryan anderson.  if you haven't seen it plastered all over the press and social media sites, ryan is a boy from moraga, ca that earned the rank of eagle scout.  one slight hitch in the giddy-up is that ryan has come out of the closet in recent years.  with that fact being known, he is being denied the title of eagle scout.  it conflicts with the rules and that is that.  the problem lies in the fact that ryan joined scouts as a young boy, long before he was "out".  it has left him feeling somewhat abused- all of his hard work (and becoming an eagle scout is very hard work and years of efforts) are now in vein- because of a recent revelation.

as scott and i talked about this, we both felt somewhat frustrated.  all i could think of was this boy.  i don't know him.  it is likely i never will, and yet i felt angry for him.  what message does he walk away with?  he must be so frustrated.  he must feel so hurt.  he must feel angry.  i imagine he feels betrayed by the very organization he gave so much of his energy to.  my heart hurt for him.

as with many things, i tucked it away and went on with the ins and outs of our day to day life.  but it kept creeping back up.  throughout the day i found myself wondering about him.

fast forward to this evening.  i was laying with p in her bed and saying prayers together.  after we finished our praying i asked her what song she would like to hear.  (i still ask her every night.)  sure enough, "Jesus Loves Me" was her request.  as the words rolled off of my tongue i was struck by a simple truth.  it's not really profound but i felt like i had to write about it.

Jesus loves ryan anderson.  and i'm guessing, that all this media coverage and rejection and speculation might not send THAT message.  but it's true.

while i have no intent on getting into a religious debate on homosexuality, or engaging in accusations against the boy scouts, or pontificating on the rights of each party in this case, i do want to make it clear.  God loves ryan anderson.  He loves me.  He loves my little baby girl.  He loves you.  there is nothing that we can do that can make him not love us.  

but Him loving us isn't the end of the equation.

He wants us to love Him back.

in john 13 Jesus says this:

a new command i give you; Love one another.  as i have loved you, so you must love one another.  by this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.

a few verses later in john chapter 14 Jesus says this:

if you love me, you will obey what i command.  and i will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever- the Spirit of Truth.

and so for me, i think of ryan.  does he know that this same God and this same Jesus loves HIM?  does he know that God wants ryan to love him back?

and i think this is a perfect example of an instance where man messes with biblical principal to make it harder for those that God loves to get the message.  you see, ryan might have figured that out on his own (and i pray he still does) but man has stepped in and decided to interfere.  now, i wonder if ryan starts to associate the pain inflicted by this situation with God...  and he chooses to look the other way.  it is possible, likely even, that ryan will go in the exact opposite direction of the Truth because man has misrepresented the message of our Father.

i pray that is not the case.  i pray that ryan finds his way into the arms of a loving God, a God that guide him through this pain and help him navigate life.

it's odd that months of blogging silence get opened up with this.  i couldn't get it off of my heart.  i prayed.  i considered.  i tried to push it down.  but it was just too big.  

jesus loves me, this i know.  for the bible tells me so.  little ones to him belong, they are weak but he is strong.  yes!  Jesus loves me.  YES!  Jesus loves me.  yes, Jesus loves me.  the bible tells me so.

for mason, kippsters and everyone else

in february we had the joy of  spending a week with three of our favorite people on the planet.  e's bff (payton) and her momma came to visit.  they brought with them a treat that i couldn't have conjured up.  that treat was their new addition, a little man named mason, who is sweeter than cotton candy.  i prayed for mason for many years- prayed that their family would become larger and that the desire of jen's heart would be met by a loving and gracious God.  it was. and while i wish he had been born earlier so that i would know him more, i can tell you with certainty, mason was worth the wait.  he is precious.

during his stay we got to know some of his favorites.  above is one of his favorite you tubes that he watches on his momma's phone from time to time.  you can't go wrong when you marry will.i.am and sesame street.  i mean really!  it is a perfect combination (at least for mommas of the toddler sect).

go ahead and take a listen.  (remember to pause the music player in the sidebar.)

pops fell in love with mason's youtube play list and so we have been listening to a wee bit of will.i.am.  i sort of fell in love with it, too.  it's catchy and it sits in your head after you have heard it (especially if you have heard it over and over and over and .... you get the picture). 

anyways, every time i hear it the same series of thoughts play through my mind.  it has happened so many times that i finally thought i would share.  (yes, i am emerging from the blogging graveyard with my two cents on will.i.am.  ah, the realities of a stay at home mom.  but as usual, i digress.)

the lyrics of this song take me to two places.

the first place is to that of my kippsters (the word that is coined for kids who attend school with knowledge is power program).  i think of these kids often.  while our branch of kipp didn't last long, those kids hold a dear spot in my heart.  i think of their potential and i think of the impact that we hoped would last on their lives.  each one of those kids was from a difficult background.  their lives held challenges that were unique.  we each hold challenges that are unique, if we think about it.  and each of us was made for something great.  i hope those kids know that.  i hope that as they are graduating they have the messages from this song engraved on their hearts.  each of them needs to keep reaching high.  each of them needs to know that they can never quit.  they can keep getting stronger.  and they are all the adjectives that the song spells out for them...  thoughtful, musical, smart, brave, helpful, special....  and on and on.  i miss them and hope for them to find their best selves yet. 

the second place that these lyrics take me to is who i am created to be.  as i listen to the words i picture my maker (Father God) picking up a portion of each of these traits and placing them purposefully into me.  i imagine him being intentional and i liken it to cooking.  you see, when i cook these days, i tend to care less about the actual recipe and take more of a "pinch of this" and a "dash of that" sort of approach.  but i don't think God created me (or you) like that at all.  i think he followed a recipe for each one of us very intentionally.  He used precision.  as we were each given a portion of attributes, He carefully measured each and every one.  He did this for His purpose and plan that He has for each one of us. 

as i hear the line, "there's nothing i can't achieve because in myself i believe in..."  i think about that.  not because i am self-reliant and that i can achieve greatness on my own, but because God created me.  i am called to believe in the me He made.  and while i don't walk this life on my own (i call on Him for all things), i can have faith that He has equipped me to "keep on reaching high" and that while walking with Him by my side "i'll keep getting stronger".

life sends us messages of inadequacy.  daily we are told that we aren't enough, but that is the message of satan not the message of Father God. 

and so, as this momma listens to youtube clips with her girlies (sometimes at a level of nausea) i am reminded of what i am. 

and as my fingers hit the keyboard and the words flow from my head to the page, i am giggling for just a moment.  why?  because as i ask myself if any of this is worth hitting the "publish post" button, i am reminded that the meaning of the word Jehovah is "i am".  it always makes me smile and giggle a bit to see a glimpse of God's sense of humor.  even in a little blog post, my God shows up and reminds me that He made me (tasha) to be the me that i am.  He reminds me that while sometimes my thoughts may seem simplistic or elementary, He gave them to me and that with them i can click "publish post" knowing that they are worth sharing.  gotta love a God who knows me that well!

and so to mason, i can't wait to see the me you were designed to be.  thank you for this little life lesson and huge reminder that I Am created me to be special.  to my kippsters, don't quit dear ones.  you have a bright future ahead of you, if only you grab it.  and to everyone else, with I AM by your side, the you that you were created to be is waiting to be revealed.

joy

november 15th is my birthday.  this story starts a few days before.  my fabulous sister stacy was able to make a visit for the few days preceding my birthday.  it was glorious.  we had time together in the city, in the livermore wine country and at a foot massage spot at the mall.  i lived with her once upon a time (as adults) and love every moment that we get to spend with each other now.  i miss her way too much and our visits are far less regular than i would like.  but philly and p-town are far.  and so we take what we can get.  she left on my birthday.  it was a beautiful gift to have her here.

on the 15th the girls and i drove auntie to the airport.  after we droped her off, we had a sweet little lunch on the peninsula.  i remember sitting there and thinking that it was a lovely little moment.  seeing my sister, lunch with my girlies...  the little things.  we arrived home at nap time and i will admit i was happy to have a little bit of time to myself while the younger girlies rested.  moments after putting them down, i heard d call from the top of the stairs.  it was game on. 

my d informed me that she was sick.  she had the stomach bug.  ick.  and it left its mark on multiple surfaces in our home, multiple times.  i played nurse for the afternoon.

clearly, our dinner plans to celebrate my birthday were cancelled and while i felt a twinge of disappointment, i was too busy with laundry and nurse duties to dwell on it too much.  scott arrived home with some take out and after dinner we put the kiddos to bed.  i crossed my fingers hoping that this was the end to a long day.  i thought for a moment about how funny it was that a sweet day had turned sour so quickly.  and yet the joy of the morning with my sister lingered.  the time with my girls at lunch had still left their mark.  if i hadn't thought about it for a moment, i am certain that the day would have only been remembered for the bad and that the good would have dissolved into the air.  but i grabbed for those moments of joy and tucked them into my heart.  i wanted to savor them.

moments after my sweet p went down, she was up again.  the sickness that had hit d a few hours early had now descended upon her.  we changed her.  we changed her bedding.  we changed her again.  and so it went for a few rounds.

somewhere in the midst of all this flu chaos, my husband stopped me. 

"tash, i have to tell you something.  i found out today that i made partner."

i stopped in my tracks.  this was beautiful, glorious news.  this was the hand of God in ways that this post cannot explain.  it is the cherry on the top of our leaving chicago and our move to california.

i must admit that it was also a very odd juxtaposition.  here i was cleaning up vomit, while praising God for this beautiful blessing.  mess in the midst of joy.  it actually made me laugh out loud as it is so not how i pictured this day.  it was this moment where joy and real life collided.  would i choose joy?  or would i let the day be tainted by the mess?  i'll admit, it was hard to choose the joy, but in my heart i knew that was more powerful and more meaningful and more true than any of the other white noise in the background.

the week continued with the three remaining family members falling.  shortly after d, e joined the sick party and by the end of the week both scott and i were men down. 

less than 24 hours after my recovery, we loaded up the car and headed for disneyland.  as we drove south through the state i marvelled at how this is never something that i had thought of for my life, the hills were breathtaking, the rows and rows of orchards were beyond my imagination.  i know that i have said all of this before, but somehow the landscape of california connects me to my maker.  it filled me with joy and awe at a God with such creativity, imagination and enthusiasm for His creation. 

we arrived at disney and began to take in the park.  if i am totally honest, it was filled with ebbs and flows, highs and lows, positives and negatives.

i am not really a disney girl.  it sort of goes against the grain of who i believe God designed woman to be...  but i also tend to make things larger than they need to be.  i will confess, i left this portion of our vacation a converted disney fan.  what can i say?  i love me some roller coasters!

we then headed to the santa monica.  the tired of disney quickly washed away with the waves and i relished in the joy of watching my girlies on the beach.  we watched surfers.  we flew a kite.  we took in the hollywood stars. we did dined at the american girl cafe in the grove.  again, i found my cup running over.  joy eclipsed my heart.

we arrived home and a day later headed to church.  while i worshiped that day, i found that my heart was so full.  it was the beginning of the advent season and i realized that i had much to be thankful for.  there was precious time with my children, beautiful accomplishments for my husband, memories with my sister and a peace about this lovely place on the planet where we have landed.  joy.  joy.  joy.

later that evening my joy bubble was burst.  conflict with a family member exploded and i found myself in tears.  quickly slipping from my grasp was this joy and i felt my heart turn to pain.  in an instant it all began to switch.

i declared in that moment to grasp for the joy.  but it was easier said than done.  you see, conflict tends to do that.  it seeps in and starts to spread deep into the recesses of the mind.  it became a battlefield for me and i found that i joy wasn't winning.

later that week i headed to mops.  the speaker that day was one that i had heard before.  i was hoping that there would be something new to grasp onto but i found her telling the same story that i had heard the previous year.  a little background on the speaker is that she lost a child to trisomy.  as she told her story again, she got to a part that i had forgotten.  basically, she tells of sitting before a doctor during her pregnancy.  the doctor had looked at her and said (in a nigerian accent)...

"you believe in Jesus?"

she answered yes

"the debil...  he try to rob you o yo joy."

in that moment tears began to stream down my cheeks.  here i was poo pooing this story that i had heard before, and she was giving me this nugget that was exactly what Christ wanted me to hear.  the debil (nigerian accent) was doing the very same thing to me. 

and i realized that i had a choice.  i could let the puke and the tired and the conflict steal my joy, or i could claim it.  i chose in that moment to claim it.

later that week, i was moving furniture around the living room to make room for our christmas tree.  as i moved my beloved antique desk, it began to topple over.  the glass door that holds a large number of my coveted trinkets slung open and out poured a ton of breakables.  they landed in a pile of broken pieces on the floor.  in the midst of the chards were these little angel cards that i have held onto for years.  each card holds a word.  peace.  obedience.  love.  strength. beauty.  understanding. 

and joy.

as i sat there on the floor picking up the broken pieces of my treasures i began to cry again.  how was it possible that joy could just continue to slip through my fingers?

and then the woman from mops hit my heart again. 

the debil...  he try to rob you o yo peace, obedience, strength, beauty, understanding...  and yes, my joy.

once again, i claimed the joy.

you see, i believe that the bible is the true word of God.  and while the God that i love is all things good and beautiful and perfect, the bible also is clear on this other force out there that wants nothing more than to steal my joy.  i am not going to let evil win. 

and so today, i claim joy.  i claim the goodness and the promise of God's role in my life.  i see His hand in each of these beautiful elements of my past month and i choose to claim them and give Him the glory for the richness and beauty that they add to my life.  i praise Him for the gift of His son and the reason that we celebrate this season.  for me, this month is about that.  it is about a Christ child that was sent to save the world and about the power of His hand in my life. 

for me, this season is going to be about joy.

forgive me for this really long drawn out story.  i share it because my guess is that the debil isn't just trying to press in on my life.  he may be trying to do the same to you.  my prayer is that if that is true for, you read this and claim joy alongside of me.  my hope is that in the midst of the chaos, you see the star. and that you hold onto it tightly, knowing the promise was given will come to pass and that through this baby, we can know joy.

national food day

last week i kept seeing all these posts on facebook about national food day.  in case you are wondering, it was yesterday.  i had no idea that we had such a day.  i also had no idea what national food day was supposed to be about.  considering that there the federal government has been linked to supporting monsanto, i was pretty certain that i didn't want to participated in anything dealing with food and the government.  but that's just me.

but i must say, i did think about it quite a bit over the course of the day yesterday.  i kept meaning to look it up but never got around to it as i was on the go for the better part of the day.  i had my guess as to what it was probably all about, and then i had my hopes for what i wanted it to be all about. 

food is sort of something i am passionate about.  that is a two part statement.  first, i love me some good eats.  i am a huge supporter of  eating real food that is absent of pesticides, preservatives, and all the other junk that tends to try to creep its way into items we call "food".  don't get me wrong- i am not always the best decision maker when it comes to food.  i love a good old in-and-out burger from time to time, complete with an order of fries.  but on a daily basis, i try to give my family a home cooked meal that is fresh, balanced and not pre-packaged.  i watch way too much food network, have more recipes bookmarked from epicurious than i can count, and am on always on the hunt for the newest sustainable and organic restaurant openings in the bay area.

the second part of the statement above refers to my passion for all people to have food.  i find it disturbing that there are so many people around the world that don't have food.  when you look into the average american's pantry, it's hard to believe that is true.  but just outside our front doors there are an abundance of people- real live people with beating hearts- who don't have something to put on the table for their family.  while you and i are struggling with what to take out of the freezer or which take-out option is best, there are tons of people out there with a different struggle.  they are less concerned with whether or not food is "real" and more concerned with having some.  we can talk about the people in africa or the people china facing this issue on a daily basis.  and we should be concerned about those people.  however, i think that sometimes we talk about the people that live far away as a distraction method to avoid the fact that we have the same problem in our very own back yards.  you can go to any main st. (yes- even in the 94566) and find people who don't have food.  we don't like to think about that.  it makes us uncomfortable as we scrape our plates into our disposals and flip the switch.  it sort of collides with grocery day when we toss those containers of spoiled leftovers that have been taking up real estate in our refrigerators.  somehow, when it's in our own back yard, we are eye to eye with a problem.  we get to choose.  do we do something about the problem or just pretend it doesn't exist?  ick.  and as grocery bills get higher and higher each month, we tend to want to avoid the problem even more.  because suddenly, our middle class pocket books are starting to hurt a bit too.  this food issue that once was someone else's problem is starting to encroach on my property line, so to speak.

and so for food day, i made a decision. not knowing what in the blazes food day was supposed to be about, for us it was going to be about appreciating the food that we have.  it was going to be a day where we changed our behavior and stopped being piggies with leftover containers that end up getting tossed in the trash.  it was going to be a day where we turned from wasting food to a family that appreciates the food on our table.   while it would certainly be a far cry from saving the world, we were going to have an "everything but the kitchen sink" dinner.  i rescued leftovers from their inevitable fate in the city compost pile and gave them to my family. 

it was shocking to see what i turned up in the spirit of trying to teach my family to have a "least of these" mentality.  we had prosciutto stuffed dates with blue cheese, pulled pork, grilled tri-tip, edamame, smashed potatoes with pancetta and gorganzola...  not so much a dinner for paupers, eh?  but sadly, it opened my eyes. 

i'm not sure what i am going to do about it, but it triggered a need within me.  somehow, i need to show my kids a world that their suburban eyes rarely see.  i need to show them how to step outside of themselves.  i need to give them experiences where they help those who don't have enough.  i need to get them eye to eye with hunger. 

this was such a part of my life before kids, but it has somehow faded into the background of my daily life.  for fear of their safety (as if all hungry people are knife wielding villains) i have kept them protected from this reality that exists right in my back yard. 

so stay tuned.  i see something on the horizon for our little family.  i don't know what it looks like right now, but i do know that something must be done.

posts like this scare me a little bit because it sort of forces me out of my cozy little bubble.  but i think they are good.  they hold me accountable and keep a record of my passion.  now, it's up to me to put my money where my mouth is. 

wiggle

i have been a stay at home mom now for a little over 5 years.  my job description has stayed pretty much the same for the better part of those five years.  i have been boo boo kisser, laundry washer, breakfast maker, playdate coordinator, fight ender, bed tucker-inner, story reader, nose wiper, bum cleaner, dance party mixer, grocery shopper, car pooler...  and the list goes on. 

and on.

and on.

more recently i have added preschool co-op helper and homework harasser to the list. 

but for the better part of the last year, e and i have been hoping for a duty to be added to my list.  in fact,it started almost one year ago at this exact time.  look closely at the snap below...  can you tell what i am? 

how about here?

yep.  a year ago i started dressing the part to practice for the job that e and i were seeking to add to my current list of duties.  e got her first wiggle on the bottom fronts at that time.  and then they just hung out there.  thrice she has pleaded with our dentist to remove them for her.  thrice he has told her that she has to get them out herself. 

so you can imagine her joy when one of the two was ready to be extracted by her dad.  a tiny pull and voila...  i became the tooth fairy. 

and e... 

well, she went to sleep on time for the first time in months.  smile.

this fairy gig is tough work, but i am happy to add it to my list. 

sick day

e has missed around 5 days of school in her lifetime (including preschool and elementary).  on each of those missed days, she was down for the count...  sick.  to date she has also never missed school for a non-sick day (ie vacation, company, a family activity etc.).  so you can imagine her surprise on friday morning when i told her that she was not going to be going to school. 

let me back up for a moment.  d had been sick on the couch for the better part of the week.  she had been up for two of those nights coughing up a lung with a sore throat and has had no voice now for two days.  on thursday night, p began to cough up a lung and spent the entire night nestled in my bed between scott and i.  e had was also showing signs of an approaching sickness with a little runny nose.

so when my alarm went off on friday morning, i just turned it off and watched my p sleep.  it was one of those momma moments where you fall in love with your (not so much a...) baby (anymore).  (seriously- i'm going to be calling her my baby until she's 42.)  she was peaceful and snugly and not coughing.  a few moments post alarm, e appeared at the side of my bed. 

"mom, aren't you going to wake me up?"

"no.  go back to bed and get some rest.  you're sick."

"i'm not sick mom.  i feel fine."

"no e.  you're sick.  we need more rest."

at that she rolled her eyes, smiled and announced she was going to be in bed reading.

we all got out of bed about 40 minutes later and stayed in our pj's until noon.  we watched judy moody and the not bummer summer on on-demand.  i set up a nail salon in the kitchen and gave the girls pedi's.  we had a dance party.  and we played hair salon. 

if you want to make an appointment, i can give you the stylists number.  scrunchies on your knees?  olivia newton john headbands?  i mean this is the best salon ever!

by the end of the day everyone seemed to be on the mend.  fevers were broken.  voices had returned.  tissues were no longer flying out of the wall box... 

what?  you don't have a tissue dispenser built into your bathroom walls?  (i couldn't resist.  i mean when was i ever going to work my uber cool 60's design element into a blog post?  exactly.)

and you should have heard the conversation that e had with her dad when he arrived home from work.

"dad, you will never believe this!  mom made me stay home from school today and i wasn't even sick!"

love at third sight (part 1)

i should change the title of my blog to something like "diary of a lyric addict" or something like that.  i know.  i'm a dork.  but songs speak to me and inspire me and get my brain digging deeper.  for some reason, song lyrics tend to illuminate the bigger picture for me.

moving on...

recently, i was asked the question if i believed in love at first sight. 

the realist and feminist in me says that there is no such thing.  love doesn't work like that and if it does it is only temporary.  how can a first sight visual get you through life?  how can a glimpse in one direction and eyes locking at their first meeting go the distance?  it's hard for me to say "yes" to that.

the romantic in me says maybe.  i mean it would be nice and everything but it feels like it is a little far fetched and more of a fairytale.  it would be cool but it doesn't really happen like that very often and the fairytale usually ends at the alter not at the 50th wedding anniversary.  maybe i would be more of a believer if there was a cinderella part deaux...  maybe they could show good old cinderella (played by betty white) throwing a ball to help their grandson find his love.  the party could start out with grandma cindy dancing with prince not quite as charming (played by sean connery).  toasts could be given by the people in the town and then the new prince (maybe beiber would be a good fit?) could begin the search for his own cinderella.  nice in theory.  but it isn't exactly real.

the Christ follower in me says "yes".  i recently was reminded (through a message at church) that jacob fell in love with rachel at first sight.

but as for me...  i fell in love with my hubs with the help of tweety bird...  at third sight.

first sight:
scott and i met in a bar.  i used to feel icky saying that.  but it is part of my story and no matter how you spin it, it is the truth.  a bunch of my friends were in town and we were all hanging out at fado in buckhead. the girls and i were chatting as two guys approached us.  they introduced themselves, made some small talk and then one of them asked for my number.  i had never given out my number to a stranger in a bar.  i wasn't sure what to do, but there was something inside me that said "do it".  and so i did.

the guy called me a few days later and asked me on a date.  he wanted to take me out to dinner.  logic told me that this was a bad idea.  girls who go out with people they don't know end up on the 10 o'clock news not on the last page of a fairytale book (and let's be honest, i'm not much of a fan of fairytales).  but again, there was something inside me that said "do it".  in an effort to avoid that news story ending to my life i made plans to meet him at the restaurant, let a few friends know where i was going and was sure to go straight home after dinner.

second sight:
we had a good time.  he was funny, smart, and such a gentleman.  conversation between us was easy and we had a lot in common.  and when he talked about something we didn't have in common, i found him to be intriguing. 

we talked on the phone a bit over the next few weeks.  if i remember correctly, he was going out of town the following week and then i was out of town the weekend after that.  those phone conversations were fun.  i remember them as being long and filled with laughter.  i remember hanging up the phone each time with a smile on my face and feeling joy as i learned new things about this person.  it was exciting and fun and refreshing. 

third sight:
on our second date, he took me to this cool restaurant where i had the most delicious pasta that i have ever had.  i can close my eyes to this date and remember that dish.  in fact, i have spent a great deal of time trying to recreate the recipe because it was that good.  but as usual, i digress.  after dinner he took me to the fox theatre to see les miserables.  yes.  you read that correctly.  who was this guy and where did he come from? 

as we sat in the theatre waiting for the show to begin, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tweety bird pez dispenser.  putting his thumb on the top of tweety's head, he cocked it backwards, looked at me and offered me a pez. 

i fell in love. 

9 years ago this week, that guy and i hung out in aruba celebrating our marriage and relaxing.  it was bliss. 

in august, that guy and i snuck away on a one night adventure to tomales bay.  when we got into the car, he popped in a "mix tape" (ok it wasn't actually a mix tape)...  this song was in the compilation: 

forever can never be long enough for me
to feel like i've had long enough with you
forget the world now, we won't let them see
but there's one thing left to do

now that the weight has lifted
love has surly shifted my way

marry me
today and every day
marry me
if i ever get the nerve to say hello in this cafe

say you will
say you will

together can never be close enough for me
to feel like i'm close enough to you
you wear white and i'll wear out the words i love you
and you're beautiful

now that the wait is over
and love has finally showed her my way

marry me
today and every day
marry me
if i ever get the nerve to say hello in this cafe

say you will
say you will

promise me you'll always be
happy by my side
i promise to sing to you
when all the music dies

and marry me
today and every day
marry me
if i ever get the nerve to say hello in this cafe

say you will
say you will
marry me

it reminded me of how we met.  it reminded me of how much i love him.  it reminded me that our marriage commitment isn't just a choice made once, but one we make each day. 

and so happy 9 years, my sweet husband.  thanks for getting up the nerve to say hello. 

times 3

ok, so now that you've seen p's first haircut snaps i can tell you the rest of the story.

when we walked into the salon the owner and head stylist pulled me to the side and asked if there was any way she could cut delaney's hair.  d is a wee bit hair challenged at this point in time.  her hair is fine and quite thin.  it is a work in progress but our progress was slightly imposed upon at the moment d decided that she wanted to grow her hair out like repunzel.  um...  ok.  me trying to explain to a three year old that you have to cut in order to grow wasn't quite as successful as i had hoped it would be.  and so d declared that she was not in fact EVER going to cut her hair again.  she would dance around her room in her repunzel wig and imagine the day that her real hair reached its goal. 

anywho- when offered with help in getting d into the haircut chair, i happily accepted.  although i must admit i had some momma guilt.  you see here we were at p's first haircut and somehow the moment wasn't going to be quite as pure.  instead of having something being about her with both of her sisters watching, it was turning into a shared moment. 

but d REALLY needed a haircut.

within moments of d being offered a cut, she was climbing up into the chair.  i have no idea what the stylist offered her but whatever it was it worked.  before i could turn around another stylist offered to do a special braid and some curls in e's hair so that she wouldn't be left out. 

yikes.  somehow a moment that was for p wasn't that at all.  not in any way.  it was three girls getting styled and trimmed and glitterized (seriously, they all still have traces of glitter on their scalps). 

it saddened me for a few minutes and then i went on with the business of tending to the girls.  when we left the salon, scott made them all pose outside together (above picture).

it's funny.  when i went back and looked at my photographs to post p's first haircut, i fell in love with this picture of my three girls.  you see, here i was, trying to create a moment for p.  that's a good thing.  knowing the woes of third child (my baby book says that i potty trained at 5 and ate solid food at 2...  i have a complex here people), i wanted to carve out a moment that was all hers.  however, when i looked at that picture of the three of them, i realized that there will be a lifetime of moments that are all hers.  as people, we tend to do that rather naturally.  we can take a moment and turn it into a "me moment" in the blink of an eye.  but as the mom of these three little ladies, i have a responsibility to help them create sister moments.  i can empower them to share.  i can train them to seek moments where they can celebrate one another rather than just themselves.  i don't know how that translates in each of their lives, but i sure hope it evolves into women who seek to be in relationship with one another.  i hope it promotes a mentality that lifts others up rather than one that longs to be at the top themselves.  i pray that they learn the value of going deeper with people and coming alongside others.  i desire that they engage in community and embrace people. 

i know that is a long stretch from sharing a first haircut day.  but all movements have to start somewhere.  this is the movement i hope i am starting for them and i am thankful for a shared experience to help me really see the value in promoting the "sisterhood" rather than promoting the "me".

 

just look at their faces.  in that shared moment, each one shines just as they are.  their uniqueness that is displayed in their expressions contribute to the beauty of the picture as a whole. 

snip snip

it recently dawned on me that p had never had a haircut.  things like this slip by me from time to time.  call it third child denial syndrome...  she couldn't possible be old enough to need a haircut, right?  call it negligent momma...  either one might be fitting in this case.  anyway, sometime in august i realized that d couldn't see.  i also realized that my husband had never attended the "first haircut" experience.  i thought i might offer it up to him and see if he was interested in attending this event in the life of p.  he did.  unfortunately, that meant that we would have to wait a few weeks for a saturday appointment.  a wait that was well worth it- as an involved daddy is priceless in the eyes of this momma. 

after several weeks of waiting, our appointment day arrived.  p was delighted to discover that this time the trip to the salon was for HER.  when i asked her where she was going, she joyfully replied, "to my haircut!"

she carefully chose her chair and then adopted her business face.  she took the job of "haircut client" rather seriously.  she listened well.  she sat still.  she kept her chin down... you get the picture.

and there you have it:  p's first haircut. 

isn't she delish?

pops

these snaps make me feel way less guilty about my 4 lb tub of red vines...  that i told my small group i was going to share with them...  and then didn't.  but how can you feel bad about consuming 4 lbs. of red vines with your girls when you see these photos?  you can't.  i don't. while my waistline is appalled, my heart is really happy.  for if i didn't eat all of above mentioned red vines then my sweet p would not have this beautiful bug box to house her cricket friend.   

a joke and a photo

a joke:
i am a terrible joke teller.  i mess up the story.  i forget the punch line.  it all goes bad.

when i was in college i interviewed at a local sports bar for a waitressing position.  the interview was going really well.  the manager who was interviewing me told me he was pretty sure that he was going to hire me but that he had one more question.  he then asked me to tell him a joke. 

uh oh.

this is the joke that i told him: 

three guys were down on their luck, walking down a country road.  as it started to get dark they began to think about where they could stay for the night.  seeing a barn off in the distance, the first guy suggested they hide in the barn for the night.  the other two guys, not having any better ideas agreed this was a good plan.  they headed off through some orchards towards the barn and made beds in the hay loft.  early the next the morning the farmer went into the barn to tend to the animals.  much to the three guys dismay, they were discovered by the farmer who was not really happy.  the three guys tried to convince the farmer that they were sorry and that they would do anything to keep the farmer from turning them into the local police.  the farmer took the bait.  he told the three guys that to make up for it, they had to go out into the fields and pick a bushel of any crop that they wanted to.  the three guys grabbed their bushel baskets and headed off in different directions to pick the crop of their choice.  after some time, the first guy headed back to the barn with his full bushel basket of peaches and handed them to the farmer.  the farmer instructed the man to drop his pants and bend over.  he then poured the bushel basket of peaches onto the guys hind side.  the guy was moaning in pain and rather embarrassed.  after he pulled up his pants he took a seat on a bail of hay.  a few minutes later, the second guy came into the barn with his bushel basket of apples.  the farmer instructed him to do the same as the first guy.  while the apples were dumped on the second guys tush, he screamed out in pain.  after he gained composure he took a seat on the hay bail next to his friend.  suddenly the two guys burst out in laughter.  they were giggling and hee hawing.  this angered the farmer. 

"what are you laughing about?  this is not supposed to be funny! tell me why you are laughing!" the infuriated farmer demanded.

between gut grabbing laughs, the two men blurted out, "the third guys picking watermelons".


i did not get the job.

and a photo...

i usually share more each summer about my garden.  earlier this year i showed you my plot of hope in my backyard.  and then summer got underway and i lost track of time and meandered away from writing for a little bit.  but i wanted to share a bit about my little garden.  it yielded cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots, radishes, eggplants, a small handful of strawberries, some squash, lettuce, onions, potatoes, and some peppers that are somehow just now ripening. 

oh. 

and some mini watermelons.  aren't they cute?

yum.