Surrendering my cool factor

I cannot tell you how many times in my life that I have sworn never to own a minivan. Though I knew there was always the possibility that it COULD happen, the probability of it happening, at least I thought, was slim. I really would not have thought that it would be so soon. That at the tender age of 28 I would be a card-carrying member of the minivan club.

But here I sit, in my 7 passenger van. And though I know I have officially become "uncool" (frankly I have given up trying), there is a sweetness in the sounds of my children happy in the backseat. In knowing that there is enough room for all their toys, and sippie cups, and pillow and blankets. And that there is a whole other backseat for that new bundle of joy that is coming ever-so-soon. Yes, there is a peace in surrendering to the ranks of uncool. Because my kids are worth it.

So today I say goodbye to parking in compact spaces, to making sharp turns effectively, and to looking like anything but a mom. BUT, I'm still blasting my Jimmy Eat World as loud as it goes!

A total Eclipse of the heart

Has anyone ELSE noticed that the countdown clock to Eclipse is at a dangerously low 5 days? That's right friends, looks like an Eclipse sighting is eminent, which can only mean a blog about said sighting.

Eclipse is my second favorite book in the series (second only to Breaking Dawn). So I am really interested in seeing how well they do in sticking to the original story. Of course, Eclipse has the most action in it, so I am hoping that will draw my husband into seeing it. I have a plan on how to drag him there.

Me: "Honey, do you want to see an action movie with a giant vampire army attacking a group of vampires and werewolves?"

Him: "YEAH! SURE!"

Me: "Oh good, take me to Eclipse."

I guess I'll just have to rub my "Team Edward" keychain until the 5 days is up. It's been proven to work.

No, I wasn't kidding about the keychain.

Count your many blessings

I was browsing through my itunes library today and stumbled upon an old friend. I decided to listen to sir Caedmon and his Call, and in doing so, found such a pearl of wisdom in a tiny lyric.

"But I get turned around, I mistake my happiness for blessing."

How often do I feel so "blessed" when I am happy, and feel loved? It's so easy to feel the blessings when I'm standing in sunshine and surrounded by the people I love. It's so hard to imagine anything being a blessing when I'm walking through a dark valley in my life. All I can see is the unhappiness that I am surrounded by. Isn't it interesting to think that some of the biggest, toughest situations in our lives are actually blessings?

The day that Elijah was born comes to mind. I could not have imagined then that going through that dark day was actually a very huge blessing. Not just in the tiny life that God gave me, but I watched as the darkness of that situation touched the lives around me. Over the last few years, God has dried my tears and has healed the wound that was ripped open and bleeding that day. He's allowed me to see the beautiful patchwork quilt of different people, experiences, and stories of his faithfullness, his presence and ultimately his gift of eternal life all because of my really bad day. I would not have known it then, but in my unhappiness, there was such blessing.

Is there something that you are walking through right now that is dark? Do you feel like there couldn't possibly be anything good that comes out of that darkness? You might not feel it right now, you might not see it for a while but it really is possible for there to be some good that comes out of your darkness. How strange to think that there is blessing even in unhappiness.

Saying Goodbye to an old friend

Sometimes in life you just have to grow up. Today was one of those days.

This is my car. It's been my car since my daddy bought it for me when I was a junior in college. He said it was for all the years I babysat my brother and sister for free, but really I think it was just his way of protecting me, his little girl, by giving me one last reliable car before he moved 3000 miles away from me.

It's seen me through a lot. The night I got engaged, I sat in it and talked to Tim for hours about our wedding. The day we got back from our honeymoon, we drove home in it talking all about the new life we would start. It was with us when we moved acrossed the country, and I got lost in L.A. It safely took me to 2 different hospitals during 2 different labors. I brought 2 babies home in this car.

Even though it doesn't work, and hasn't for sometime, it still represented something to me. And today as we said goodbye to it, I found myself overwhelmed with emotion. Because though it saw me through all those times, it really just made me think of my dad and it felt like I was saying goodbye to him instead of a silly car.

I miss my dad today, and if I'm being honest....everyday.

A day of rest and reflection

There is something to be said for rest and relaxation. It's been a really long and daunting couple of weeks, so my sweet husband took me on a weekend getaway to the coast for a break and to celebrate our anniversary.

I can't tell you how awesome it was to wake up each morning, when I felt like it, and to not have to change diapers, or make breakfast for an army or try to entertain 2 small little boys. Instead it was just me, and my man spending the whole weekend sitting on our deck, reading books and listening to the soothing sounds of the surf.

It does wonders for your marriage when you can have adult conversations without being constantly interrupted, when you can kiss without being tackled by little hands, and when you can just sit quietly and not say anything while you hold eachother close.

Every year on our anniversary, we look back on our marriage. The good, the bad, the difficult and reflect on what we've gone through and how grateful we are for each other. I know the day I walked down the aisle and said my vows I loved him. I know when we kissed and they pronounced us man and wife I adored him. But as I sat next to him in an old ship-themed cafe on the docks, watching him eat I knew I loved him more.

I loved him more when he would go out on late-night ice cream runs for me and my crazy pregnancy cravings. I loved him more when he held my hand through each contraction I had. I loved him more when he drove 3000 miles in a truck by himself and set up a home for me and my baby to come to. And I really loved him more the day he laid in a hospital bed with my sweet little 2 year old and sang him songs and read him books until he fell asleep. He is my rock, and we have weathered storms that most people would not have made it through. I love him ever so much more than the day I put on a white dress and said forever to what lies ahead.

A letter to Elijah after his surgery

Dear Elijah:

I HATE hospitals, and I hate making you go to one. I hate hearing you cry and scream in pain, I hate hearing you beg to leave, and I hate... I HATE having to make you wear this big old cast on your hand when you are dying to get it off. I hate how I feel when you say "I can't mama" and I hate how much I constantly want to cry when I hear you say it.

But I love how brave you are sitting in that hospital bed. I love the fortitude you have to try new things, difficult things, with the remaining hand you have. I loved watching you smile when you got to paint at the hospital, and how happy that made you. I loved when you saw your brother and played with him, sitting there in your hospital bed. I loved watching your face when we told you we got to go home.

I love how you don't ever give up Elijah. That's something I could never do as a child, and watching you try and try and try to pick up that spoon until you did it made me so proud of you. I love how that feels. I love how you don't let hands, or fingers, or casts, or pain get in the way of what you want. I love how strong you are.

Sometimes I hate that God allowed this to happen to you because I cannot stand watching you go through such pain at such a tiny age. But I LOVE how much God has used you, a small child to show people what we can do when we put out minds to something. And I love that God used those tiny little hands to bring so many people to Him. That is an honor Elijah. Don't you ever curse those tiny, beautiful, miracle hands because they are God's hands, hands that have allowed others to see the face of God in ways that your mommy and daddy could never have imagined.

I love you baby. My strong, courageous baby.