Funny, I just realized I didn’t blog this summer. Technically, that’s not true. I blogged- professionally. I didn’t blog personally. Every summer I swear I’m going to chronicle the lazy days of swimming holes and picnic lunches, but as it turns out, those days aren’t so lazy. When you have a family this size, summertime is a logistical nightmare. There, I’ve said it.
I love summer vacation. I love being home with my kids. But I’m not going to lie, I finally understand those moms who do the happy dance on the first day of school. I used to give those moms dirty looks- and now, I’m the leader of the pack.
I thought for sure I’d catch up my blogging the first day of school, but nope. My football star broke his arm in two places and required surgery to fix it.
A few metal rods later, I guess we can say Tucker never does anything half-ass. That kid puts 100% effort into everything. Read the rest of this entry
I know you’ve been the one to go to school
every day most of the days for the past 13 years, and you’re the one who passed all the tests and finished the classes, but this graduation isn’t just about you. It’s about a journey, a journey between the two of us.
You see, my life is sort of divided between the years before you and the years since. You, my sweet son, changed who I am.
I was a wife and a step-mom before you were born. And I like to think my mothering was pretty good. BUT YOU brought out my MAMA BEAR.
The first moment I saw you, the majesty of the heavens paled in comparison to this miracle I made. Oh yeah, Daddy made you too, but that’s a different story.
I stared at you for hours thinking “holy crap, you were inside of me!” The bigger you grew, the more that amazed me. All the sudden one day I looked up at this young man who was taller than both his parents and I said to myself “that was my tiny little Dyl Pickle” and I looked at my hand and remembered how you once sat so small in my cradled arm. Read the rest of this entry
It’s been a long time since I’ve had so much to say that I’ve posted 4 days in a row, but this week my heart is so full of wonders and worries, questions and thankfulness, nostalgia and heartbreak, and I just can’t seem to stay focused on anything.
One minute I’m thinking about the election and what it means and the next minute I’m praying over my little sister who is dead-locked in a battle with the Big C and then I find myself sorting out unresolved feelings from the unexpected death of my step-father which prompted me to think of the other veterans in my family and what I’ve come up with is this: we all have scars. Read the rest of this entry
My step-dad and I had a complicated relationship. There was a lot of love between us. When my teacher decided to push a gifted student over the edge by giving me Trigonometry homework in the 4th grade, he stayed up with me until 2:30 in the morning, teaching me this math that I had no foundation for, and somehow we got it done. When I proudly turned it in the next day, she looked at me dumbfounded. When I asked what my grade was, she said “oh this wasn’t for a grade…” I went home that night feeling defeated and the next day he went to school with me, and I got my grade. I’m sure I was quite a nerdy kid, but he didn’t tell me that. Read the rest of this entry
Last night I heard yelling from my bedroom. “Hey! I accidentally paused the TV! How do I fix it?!” I couldn’t believe it was my husband asking this ridiculous question, but I went ahead and answered him. “Push play” I said. “It’s not working, I tried;” he carried on and on until he said “come fix it!”
“UMMMMMM NOOOOO! I’m pretty busy in here!” Read the rest of this entry
What’s that they say? Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, feed him for life! Well, I say it’s more like teach a kid to fish and he’ll steal your boat.
Lately Dyl Pickle has been going fishing. He’s always loved fishing. I can see him now, 4 years old standing on a grassy bank, little fishing pole in hand….
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It’s been quite a week here in the zoo! Partly because today is my birthday, and I’ve been celebrating all week long. I often get the birthday blues because I shared my birthday with my grandfather for 27 years. Losing him still stings like a swarm of bees straight to the heart.
My life is chaotic. I spend half my time hoping he’s up there watching me, and the other half praying he didn’t see that… you know the moments- the ones where the house is gross and the kids are grosser, or when I forget to hold my tongue, the days when I accomplish nothing. How many times do I say to myself: “If Softy were here, he’d know what I should do…”? Read the rest of this entry
I’m one of those people who believes whole-heartedly that it takes a village to raise a child. I think we’re all better off if we get to know the kids around us, if we try to be a part of their world. I’m also one of those people who believes that actions speak louder than words, so I try to live by the ideas I find important.
If you stop by here on any given day, you will see the village. There are always 10 or 12 kids hanging around. I’m good with that. I’d rather them be here, so I can try to guess what kind of mischief they’re cooking up in their ever-changing brains. Read the rest of this entry
Today my son turned 1o years old. You know what birthdays do, they send you on those journeys of reflection. I don’t think I’ve ever made it through a birthday for one of my children without glancing back at the baby pictures.
For a long time I didn’t want to talk much about the way we adopted our youngest four children. I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes or hurt anyone’s feelings. I especially never wanted to acknowledge the fact that they are all considered “special needs” kids. Read the rest of this entry
If a picture is worth a thousand words, well, I then I have about 18 million words at my disposal right now! I can’t believe I finally got my hard drive back, and it had 18,000 pictures and videos on it. I’ve spent the last year or so thinking those pictures were forever lost. I’m so elated to have them back that I probably wasted 3 hours just browsing through the folders. I issued a serious Facebook warning that I had recovered seven years of proof that I lead one crazy life, and those who have taken part might soon appear in my way-back-Wednesday or throw-back-Thursday postings. At least I warned everyone before I started digging for the truly good ones.
Lucky for my oldest son, I didn’t have a digital camera yet when he was a baby. I took my all-time-favorite picture of him sitting in a bird bath naked when he was about 9 months old. It was a small concrete bird bath with fall-colored mums planted all around it. There were little flowers floating in the water and his blue eyes caught the afternoon light so perfectly that he looked just like a little angel. It was absolutely adorable, but you will have to take my word for it, because if I posted that online, he’d probably kill me in my sleep and we’d end up on an episode of Dateline.
I didn’t post the bird bath, but I can’t resist spaghetti face!
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