The passage of Time

                                                  Time. 

There is a lot to be said about the passage of time. Hootie and the Blowfish (the great orators of our generation) once said "Time is wasted, time is walking  you ain't no friend of mine... I think I'm going out of my mind just thinking about time."

Time is so many things to so many people. I think that time is most evident in a mother's life.The days are long but the years are short. That's what they say about motherhood. I would have to agree. Time wasted worries you, time ahead fills you with anxiety, time behind you fills you with sadness. I  think of this time in my life with my children and I feel like it is slowly slipping through my fingers. This time is precious, and valuable and quickly moving and ever changing.

It is this time, this preciousness that propels me to take snapshots of my children so that I can look back and remember.

I can remember that moment when your two front teeth were missing. It was just 3 weeks of time before that front one grew in. It was your seventh birthday with that cake that took an army of hands to put together. And it was this cake that made you smile that gloriously magnificent tooth gapped smile that I will remember forever, but that only lasted for 3 short weeks.

I can remember that moment when I first brought you to this playground and it didn't look too big for you. It was just your size. And that knowing smile told me that you were ready for a phase of life that I wasn't ready for.

But that smile also told me that while you were a big boy now, playing with the other big boys, you weren't too big to stop holding my hand or giving me a big, sloppy, wet kiss as I said goodbye to you. You were telling me that it was going to be okay, even though you weren't exactly sure that it was. That was this moment.

And then there was this innocent split second when you were sitting on your Nana's lap and looking up into my eyes with such love; such tenderness. And it took my breath away that someone could look at me that way, that someone could love me in that way. And it was in that moment that I thought to myself "There has never been a more beautiful little girl in the history of forever." And you held my hand and wiggled into my lap and you put your face against mine. For that split second, for that moment we were connected. And I was your everything.



While I'm sad at the time that is already gone and am excited about the time that I won't have to potty train, or pick up the lego that seems to congregate down the edges of my hallway, I must for now live in the present in this fast moving and changing current of happenings that is my children's childhood. How I want it to stand still. I would gladly fill up sippy cups forever if I could just hold onto this moment.

This wonderful, beautiful moment of absolute chaotic, giggling mess.

Diary of a freelance mom

A friend of mind recently said to me "Boy, it's like you lead two lives" And I have to say that lately, that's felt very true.                                                                                       

  I've really had the opportunity to travel a lot for work. It's junket season and with that comes first class flights and fancy hotels. But I have to say, for a mom that does dishes and laundry most days, it seems like such an out of body experience.

I've been getting a lot of questions  about what I do. The short answer is: I'm a freelance writer. It's a slow process but it's been rewarding to build my resume as things come up. I've been able to screen movies and interview actors and directors. I've had the chance to write reviews and features for a few publications. I've been able to see sights and truly spread my wings and I've enjoyed every minute of it. But when I'm away from my kids it also feels like a huge part of myself is missing. I so enjoy being able to talk about media and writing and social issues with my fellow writing community, but I also just as equally love talking about First Grade book fairs and the funniest thing that Noah said last week to other like-minded parents.

Maybe that's why I love this blog so much, because I can share everything with you. There are so many pieces to my life, so many interests and passions and causes that I have, there is no way in this little ADD brain of mine that I could ever contain my thoughts to just one subject, or my passions to just one page. I'm a mom, first and foremost and my favorite view is not the most amazing city skyline (like this one from this last weekend in Beverly Hills):

 No, my favorite view is still this one. At home cuddling next to my sleeping children and being a part of their everyday life.

I'm still trying to figure out how to bounce from thing to thing and maintain a sense of balance and order. And while I'm confident I may never know balance and order in this chaos I call life, I sure am glad you're along for the ride.

NOAH: an honest review from a hopeful spectator

I had the chance to screen the movie Noah this weekend, and I must say it was not at all what I was expecting. Being able to travel to visit the ark on set during production last year was incredible. The sheer magnitude in size and great attention to detail made me feel like I truly was there. Since that experience, I have been nothing but excited about the movie and how it would benefit mainstream media by bringing a message from the bible.

Perhaps my expectations were a bit high, and also more influenced by previous bible film experiences. And I know, after interviewing Darren Aranofsky, that he was trying to break the mold of traditional bible films. Let me tell you, he did and then some. Right from the beginning of the movie he introduces a mythology I am entirely unfamiliar with. Perhaps it is my sheltered, flannel-board sunday school mentality, but it begins much darker than I thought. The bible really puts an emphasis on how the world was wicked and God was displeased. But it doesn't say in what way it was wicked. And I must say, this writing changes the way I perceive wicked to be. But it's true, the world had to have been so incredibly, unbelievably wicked for God to want to wipe it clean like that. I'm sure I don't want to even imagine what it was like.

But in this world of dark and different, Aranofsky brings an almost Tolkien feel to it with mythical creatures I've only ever heard whispers of. He brings them to the forefront of the story in such an interesting way that while I am pretty confident that this is not how it happened, it still intrigued me. And I'm pretty sure that the whole point of writing this story the way that it was had more to do with making the world turn their idea of what really happened to Noah on it's head.

By the third act, things take such a dramatic turn that the story is almost unrecognizable. I found myself wanting to audibly ask "Why did you do that?" Fortunately for me, I had the opportunity to ask that the very next night as I sat down at a roundtable with both writers of the film: Ari Handel and Darren Aranofsky.

They spent half an hour taking apart each section of the film and explaining why they made the choices they made. Each time they explained, I found their case to be compelling and oddly....believable. At the end of the interview I found myself almost rooting for the film, having unearthed it's secrets and understood the direction it went in. Unfortunately, not everyone has the luxury of hearing directly from the writers why they made the story decisions that they did, and consequently, I fear that the movie will suffer with religious viewers especially because it is so very different from what we have made up bible movies to be in our collective heads.

My hope is that viewers will enter the theater with open minds and check their expectations at the door.

Actual Erin Thoughts: August 2013

                      It's been a long time since I've let you all in on my    
      thoughts. I'll throw in an introspective selfie free of charge.
                                  


*It's nearly football season again (insert giant groan) and while I'd much rather be doing other things, I am insistent that each family member has an up-to-date jersey and wears it for every game the Niners play. Maybe I really do like football? Or... maybe I like fashion.

*I've been hitting the gym lately... and it's been hitting me back.

* I'm pretty sure I am heavily addicted to the young adult fiction genre. It is all I seem to be interested in reading and it makes me feel pre-pubescent again. I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing?

*Most days when I have a chance to sit and rest, I stare at my walls and think up new DIY projects to fill the empty spaces.

*I'm pretty obsessed with television shows related to polygamy lately. I find them oddly fascinating but am always worried that people will read too much into that.

*I really like McDonald's French fries. Pretty much better than any other French fry out there. I know that's making a pretty big statement, but I'm willing to stand by it.

*I can't figure out how Peter Jackson convinced the world that The Hobbit needed to be a 3-part movie series. Seriously movie execs, there cannot possibly be 8 hours of note-worthy hobbitisms we will give you an Oscar for.

*I've officially outgrown the MTV VMA awards. Didn't watch a single second of it. And you know what? I'm already starting to feel like a better person because of it.

*I really can't stand the grime on my feet from a day walking in my flip flops. On days when I forget to wash it off before I get in bed, I sit and think about all of the people and places that are sleeping on the bottoms of my feet with me.


*It's almost fall which means.... jacket weather!!
Sometimes towards the end of winter, I like to stick a little bit of money or a peppermint or a new thing of chapstick in my coat pocket just before I hang it up for the summer. When it's time to pull on the jacket again, I find a little something special in my pocket that helps me to know "Hey, it's gonna be a great day, and here's a little something to make it sweeter."

How to be genuine or, what I did this summer

I've struggled for a while with what to write about on my blogs. How many times can my readers really listen to an emotional spill about my children with special needs? How many craft projects are really that interesting? I worry about what strangers will think of my blogs, or what magazines and publishers will think as they stop by based on proposals I send out. Do I talk less about my kids and life as a mom? Isn't that unprofessional?

These questions are dizzying and quite frankly, keep me from writing anything at all. Here is one fact you need to know about me that's more important than any other fact you will ever know and that is: I'm GENUINE. I can't stand fake. Fake smiles, pretending, trying to be something I'm not. I really despise it and am quite bad at it. So, I've decided to make a decision to go with the one thing that I really know about myself and to be genuine. That being said, here is my summer so far:

*Went to Disneyland which was awesome. My boys loved Carsland (ok so did I) and ended I up buying a season's pass (that was so cheap after our stay there I couldn't say no). Now I'm just a girl, saving up for her next adventure. I love being able to have adventures to look forward to. So on really bad days, I can close my eyes and think about what ride I'm going to ride next, or what Disneyland looks like at Christmastime. It gets me through those really hard days. And is somewhat of an escape for me when the challenges of motherhood can get the best of me.

 

*Discovered the library again. After a pretty scary threat that I received from a homeless man last 

 summer, I've been nervous to take my kids near the library. But they just love to read and play so I developed a systematic approach. I circle the place first and make sure there's no violence or scary people and then I take my ducklings in. They love it!

*Did our best to stay cool in the scorching 116 degree temps Redding gets. This was a challenge since my kids don't understand how to NOT play outside.

Enjoyed a wonderful fourth of July with our cousins in Sacramento. We decided to do a cool art project for flag shirts this year which was really awesome. Only problem is, it led to Elijah's first meltdown about his hands. He asked me for the first time "Why did God make me look different than everyone else?" It broke my heart as it was the question I had been dreading him asking me since the moment he was born. Fortunately I was ready, and I am proud to say I got through my little schpeel without shedding one single tear. That takes effort folks. Fortunately, I got to tell him that the very next day we were off to handcamp where he could meet other kids just like him.

*Which brings me to handcamp. No way am I gonna give a tiny blurb on the lifechanging affects it had on Elijah. It will have to be a seperate blog post. But for now, let me just say it was amazing and we are blessed to have this community of parents and kids and people who take time out of their lives to play with, nurture and love on kids with hand differences. Just looking at this picture makes me tear up.

We also got a lot of swimming in so far. And even tried our hand at kayaking. Which, with three small
children isn't easy. Noah has been especially brave
this year, trying new things. He's getting to be so big standing next to his big brother.

I also got some not great news about Olivia's therapy. Her Sensory Processing Disorder continues to be a challenge. We're working everyday and she's getting better and better but, there is still a lot to go. Last year, we discovered that she had a connection with water. She would go under for a while and never be scared or cry. She would try to swim with little effort and not mind a bit floating on her back. Her therapy is coming to an end, though she still needs a lot of help. I've been trying to brainstorm ways I could help this little water baby and heard of a really cool thing called swim therapy.

 For sensory kids, swimming feels good on their skin. The pressure makes them feel great, and because she often has trouble controlling her muscles, the weightlessness of water allows her to be a graceful little fish. When there's not sun beating down on her face, she is quite content to be in the water for... well forever.

Because we live in Redding, there aren't a lot of options out there for sensory kids. In fact, there aren't any past age 3. So I applied for some funding at our local YMCA and researched how to do swim therapy on my own. Between Elijah and Olivia I've been doing kid therapy for 6 years. I was pretty sure I could hack it in the water and was determined not to let my baby girl slip through the cracks. Problem is.... we didn't qualify for funding. I have been pretty discouraged about it. Still not giving up, but feeling like I'm tired of fighting and nothing happening. It feels like punching underwater.

But still we press on. I'm considering several next steps. Possible fundraiser? Oh I hate asking for money. Maybe haggling with the manager? I'm not sure. The point is, it's been a summer full of happy times and also obstacles.

And here we are, back where we started. This is me, vowing to be more transperant about my life. My boring, mundane life. This is what life looks like with 3 kids, 2 of them struggling through disabilities. But we manage to make memories, and laugh and have good times together. This is my life.

The Lies my dirty house told me

Last week I had the most company over I have probably ever had in my life. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I never have people over, it's just that I've never had quite so many different visitors in the span of 7 days. I blame my husband who went out of town, and my absolute dislike of being alone. But in the midst of all the company, I also had a lot of freak out moments.

A little secret about my house: it's dirty about 86% of the time. Why? Oh there are lots of reasons why. I have 3 small children, I am out and about a lot, I have 3 small children, there aren't enough hours in the day to clean, I HAVE 3 SMALL CHILDREN.

Here's the thing, everyone that I invite to my home KNOWS the chaos that is my life. So why do I feel the need to immediately apologize to them that I didn't get to vaccuming, or that I didn't empty my dishwasher? It's because my dirty house is telling me lies:

"You're not a good enough housekeeper" says my pile of dirty dishes. "You aren't sanitary" says the little boy's toilet that I did just clean an hour ago, but now has dried pee all over it. The mounstrous basket of dirty clothes says"You are a laundry failure".  The fingerprints all over my sliding glass door tell me, "Clearly, being clean is not a priority for you."

"Quite frankly, you disgust me," says the long drip stains from an unknown origin on my walls. The stack of paper plates that I use to feed my kids each day whispers, "You don't have nice things, or maybe you're just lazy. Or maybe a little of both." The disgusting rice crispies that I can't seem to ever fully chisel off of my diningroom table secretly judge me and the dirty kitchen floor is rolling it's eyes at me because it knows I haven't mopped it in over a week. But the toys scattered all over my livingroom floor, hallway and at the foot of my bed greet me warmly; we're old friends now.

Probably the biggest misconception about being a stay-at-home mom, is that you will have all the time to keep your house in order, and spend time with your kids. You will have time to finish books, make beautiful art pieces, perhaps get a new hobby, or 5 because hey, you stay home all day and you will have plenty of time to fit it all in. I cannot tell you how many times when my husband has walked through the door and I have jumped up and felt the need to give him the list of things that I did today, and that the children subsequently spent the rest of the day "undoing". He doesn't even bat an eyelash. He's not phased. You know why? Because it's not him that is judging me. He's not holding me to a standard, or expecting perfection. But if I'm being honest I expect perfection.

It's me that wants the sparkling clean kitchen, and the laundry neatly folded in drawers. I want the baseboards wiped down and not a spec of dust anywhere in my home. I want the prestine carpets and the glorious china dishes to serve my guests with. But that's my hang up.

My mother once told me that she spent the better part of her life holding her house to a state of perfection that it almost never was. She wouldn't have anyone over unless her house held to the standard, and as a result, she never had anyone over.

So why do I let the dishes and the laundry and the dust bunnies judge me? Why is it that I feel so condemned by them? Because I let them guilt me. I let them make me feel bad for reading my son a book when he asked, or for teaching him a lesson in sharing, or answering a question that's been bothering him. I let them whisper mean things to me when I'm playing dress up with my daughter, or just holding her because she's had a hard day.

 

Sometimes I believe this guilt is exactly why there was a Mary and a Martha in the bible. Mary: great friend, follower and hostess. She sat with Jesus, talked with him and really listened to him. Martha: worried about the meal she was feeding him, if her table looked alright, if her house was presentable enough, if SHE was good enough. End result: Jesus and Mary were tight, Martha... well... Martha had a very nice house.

I couldn't say with certainty that if Jesus came over to my house, that I wouldn't apologize for this morning's cereal that was underneath the table, or for that sticky toddler residue that was all over the lightswitch in the bathroom, but I'd like to think that I would talk to him and really listen to him and possibly serve him store-bought pizza on paper plates and that he could really care less about it. Because, quite frankly, I'm no Martha.

Actual Erin Thoughts: January 2012

It's that time again, the time when I let you into my subconscious mind.

*Sometimes when I blow my hair dry, I pretend I'm Kim Walker and let my inner worship leader blast the walls of my bathroom.

*I have a serious addiction to planning fake trips to Disneyland. It's a disease. Maybe I should name it something like... Disneylanditous.

*After Tim and I watch a television show written by Aaron Sorken, our banter and conversations are always so much more fast-paced and wittier.

*I refuse to go on pinterest unless I am absolutely sure I will come out of the 
experience ready to do a project.                                                                       

*It took me 5 years and a very stern talking to from an occupational therapist for me to FINALLY allow play-doh in my home. Yes, I know, I'm that mom.

*I have had the same favorite color since I was 3 years old.

*I debate back and forth on whether I'm still cool enough to own a pair of TOMS shoes. Jury is still out.

* I bought the entire Disney Princess Barbie set for Liv on a ridiculous sale. Sometimes, I think I did it just as an excuse to play with Barbies again.

 *Even though I'm turning 31, I have an unhealthy expectation about how special my birthday must be. It's something I really hope I one day outgrow.

Actual Erin Thoughts: August 2012

* You'd think after 200 years after the invention of the sewing machine, they would figure out an easier way to thread it. A-NNOY-ING!

*Best song of all time for me is "High and Dry" by Radiohead. I couldn't put a finger on exactly why, but it  is the best song of all time.

*Sometimes I watch television interviews and count how many times they use the same word. The women's gymnastics team used the word "Definitely" 18 times.... in 3 minutes.

*Everytime I see a picture of a wedding, it makes me so sad that I didn't have pinterest when planning mine.

* I would rather go without getting my hair done, or shopping, or pedicures than live a DAY without air conditioning.

* Sometimes I miss the way a newborn smells so much, that I wish I could go into a maternity ward and sniff people's babies. But somehow, even after writing that, it feels so much more creepy than I am intending.

* I wish I could wear a fedora and not look like a von trap.

Erin Thoughts: April 2012

It's been a while since I've done this, thought it was time to break out the ole' 2012 Thoughts:

*Sometimes I like to collect random junk I find from the road because I tell myself that it will make a great pinterest project someday. As it stands, I have a whole lot of unfinished potential pinterest projects sitting in my garage.

*I've always been against new technology, but I gave in and finally let my husband by a new tv as the last time we bought one was 2002. 3 weeks later, I still find myself yelling things at the new tv screen like "Wow, that looks so real" and "I can't believe I waited so long to get a new one of these." Yeah, I eat my words sometimes, it's how I roll.

*I'm still coming to terms with turning 30. You'd think I'd have gotten over it by now, but every now and then I cry about it... still. I can't imagine what 50 will look like.

*I know absolutely nothing that is going on in the world of celebrities. Last week when I was standing in the check out line, I audibly gasped and gaffawed when I read the covers of all the magazines. I'm fairly confident the checker thought I was certifiably nuts.

*I own "Bridesmaids" on blu-ray. I don't even know why since the diarhea scene is not exactly something you want to watch in high definition. But hey, the outtakes are good.

*I really want to make a music video to this mommy song I wrote, but I feel like I'm in junior high for wanting to.

*I just got an updated version of photoshop only to discover that pixlr.com has the same software for FREE. palm to face.

*I finally figured out hashtags, after several years of not understanding hidden sarcasm. I've been missing so much.

It's all a"boot" me

I spent the better part of last fall searching for a fabulous pair of boots. My faux Target special uggs from five years ago just weren't cutting it (though they did keep the rain off). I searched high and low for the perfect boot, it was not an easy task. And I had almost given up in the illustrious boot search when I made a quick trip to Portland. Have I mentioned I'm in love with that city yet? Oh, I feel another blog post coming on. I digress. I got to stay and reconnect with a fabulous fellow blogger, and good friend, Imaya in her lovely home. She introduced to me, and generously gave me a giftcard to DSW where I found a delightful pair of boots that were perfect for me. Perfect in that, I could stomp through puddles, lug kids to Target in, and not get wet. Perfect in that I could do said things while still looking somewhat stylish in. While on this fabulous trip to Portland, I also bought a Pashmina scarf that I fell head over heels in love with. It seriously makes me smile just putting it on.

I know it sounds really strange, but I can be having the WORST day. I can change the grossest diapers, endure the most temper tantrums, and run the most errands (kids in tow). And as long as I'm wearing my boots and my scarf I will still be smiling. Seriously I was wearing mom pants and a stained shirt today and I threw on my boots and my scarf and picked up Elijah from school feeling like a diva. What it is it about these items that brighten my day so much? I can't put a total finger on it, but I think it has to do with the fact that they are totally and completely all about ME. They go on my feet and on my neck and they are not used as toys, or cleaning devices. They are purely to make me look, and feel, better.

As moms, I think we forget this little part about ourselves. For me, it's not making time for myself that's the problem, it's physically buying things for myself. I think about the new shoes Tim needs for work, or the socks the boys need or that cute hair thing for Olivia that I am just dying to get her. But what about me? I always forget me. It isn't until someone forceably gives me something that is ONLY meant for me that I remember, oh yeah... I kinda like this and it makes me feel good.

A New Resolution

HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!! What? It's January 19th? Well, just pretend with me. HAPPY NEW YEAR'S and welcome to the blog where I reveal my new year's resolutions. Now, I'm not one of those kind of people that gives myself unrealistic expectations about what my year will look like. Usually, I like to give myself goals that I can accomplish, things I can achieve, so I don't feel like a total failure come December 31st. But this year, I'm just not so sure it's as attainable and it's scaring and exciting me all at the same time.

I've hesitated revealing this secret in my life for a few months now, mostly because I don't want to sound pretentious and also because I knew if I kept it quiet there was still a possibility that if I quit I wouldn't look like a total idiot for doing so. But, alas, it's too late for going back now, I've intrigued you too much.

I have recently started writing a book. It's a book about my struggles with being a parent of a child with special needs and finding God in the midst of the hard stuff. I've already written several chapters and my New Year's Resolution this year is to finish writing my book. I won't go so far as to send it to a publisher, but I think making myself finish should be a sufficient enough challenge. Besides, i think it sounds kind of romantic to finish writing your first book by the time you're 30. Besides, who wants to read the book of a 20 something anyway right? Well if it's not, don't tell me because it's what I am saying to motivate myself.

So there it is, my deep dark secret is a secret no more. It's going to be a year of challenge, and development and what I hope to be the accomplishment of what has been a lifelong dream. Who knows, maybe I'll even let someone read it....someday.

Another Crazy Amazing Story

Nearly 2 years ago I found out I was pregnant with baby #3 and I tried to imagine where I would put her. Our 900 square foot house was tight as it was and the third bedroom was arguably a closet. With no choice, I made that tiny little space the coziest I could, and I started praying for a miracle. I watched seasons come and go and no matter how much I looked and tried on my own to get a house, something always fell through.

On December the 26th, 2011 I prayed once again to the Lord. I gave him specifics of what I wanted in a house: I needed more square footage, a fenced backyard, a bigger kitchen, 2 bathrooms and an indoor washer and dryer. I also mentioned the fact that we didn't have money for a deposit really, and that our budget for this miraculous house was only $100 more than we were paying now.I said this knowing that there were absolutely no houses that big for that price. Then I said Amen and carried on with my day. 6 hours later... our landlord came knocking on our door. He told us that he had a 1300 square foot house with a spacious kitchen, fenced in backyard and an indoor washer and dryer. Then he said it was only $50 more than what we were paying now. My jaw dropped.
As soon as I walked in, I just knew it was God. I could feel it in the timing, and the circumstances. He somehow managed to find the perfect house for us and He worked out the deposit situation. And here I am, 5 days before the new year, feverishly packing to move! The real kicker is, it's about half a block from where we live, so the move is going to be so easy... and cheap.

All the time I prayed, and asked and begged for a new place. All the times that perfectly good houses fell through, how could I have known that God had something so much better, so much more affordable? I've said it before, I will continue to say it... Our God is Crazy Amazing!




Our new home.

The Christmas Miracle

This sounds like the title of a really bad Holiday Hallmark movie, but I simply had to write it. I had no idea that Santa was so technologically savvy, nor did I realize that he read letters from 29-year-old women. But less than 24 hours after I wrote to Santa for a Christmas miracle, something miraculous happened.... he made my wish come true.


Now to be totally honest, I wrote him out of the goodness of my heart, and a little Christmas humor. I had no intention of actually receiving a response. But a very old friend of mine who prefers to be called Santa, delivered into my paypal account just the right amount of money for 2 count them 2 tickets to see our beloved Coldplay in Portland. I know that by the time you're an adult you aren't supposed to believe in things like Santa, and that we generally mark these types of events in sentimental movies. But I have to say that today I witnessed the impossible and one of the biggest things I ever asked for came true. This could possibly be the most amazing Christmas EVER!

So, I challenge each of you to ask yourselves one very simple question:

Do You Believe In Santa Claus?

A letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

I recognize that I am a 29-year-old woman writing to you, but I think I should get a few points for having "faith like a child" or maybe it's just plain desperation. In any case, I am here to write to you and ask you for a very special, and highly unlikely Christmas present. You see, there's this band I like, maybe you've heard of them? Coldplay? Well, anyways, recently I found out that their North American tour is going to be in April and that they're not coming anywhere near our home (here in Redding California). But they are coming to Portland, which is an 8 hour trip from our house. When I looked at their website, I was stunned to find that tickets were going for $80 a pop! I know to you money is no object santa, but in our home, that is a whole lotta moolah! Back in the day when Tim and I were dating, tickets to a Coldplay concert were $30.... total. I miss those days Santa, when gas prices were cheap and you could go to the movies for under $10. Times have changed, and so have our finances and it looks like it would take a Christmas miracle to pull off getting to see them. So that's why I'm writing to you. Santa, I don't want a dog, or a toy car or even a baby sister, I just really really want to go see Coldplay in Portland. Can you do that for me?

I've tried to be a good girl Santa, and do the right thing. I admit, sometimes I lose my patience with my children, and I don't always do the laundry like I should. But I'm hoping you'll overlook those things and remember me for the little girl that I was, this little girl.


(Erin and Santa age 10)

Anyways, I know you're busy, seeing as it's only 3 more sleeps till Christmas. But if you could find it in your heart, I would appreciate it.
Yours Truly, Erin Kaye (Reibsome) Warkentin

With Gratitude.

November is the month that we give thanks. Everytime this month hits, I especially have a lot to be thankful for. It was 3 years ago this night that my husband, my very small baby and me sat in a lonely hospital room. I think about how much pain that baby was in, how sad we were. That Thanksgiving I like to call the year that God taught me how to be thankful. There isn't a November that goes by that I don't thank the Lord that he has delivered us from the machines, the pain meds and the uncomfortable hospital cots. That he has given me not one, but three beautiful healthy children. That my family is whole and complete and that we are NOT sitting in a hospital room.

Today I give thanks and bare witness to the fact that the Lord delivered us from despair and pain and he turned our sorrow into joy. There was a time when I never thought I'd utter these words. I give thanks for my great God, and the amazing family he has seen fit to give me.

Nichole Nordeman "Gratitude"

We'll give thanks to You

With gratitude

For lessons learned in how to trust in You

That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream

In abundance or in need

And if You never grant us peace
But Jesus, would You please . . .

The Day I turned Five....again

There are so many times I dreamed about going to Disneyland in my life, I've completely lost count. It's an experience I wondered if I would ever get. The day I walked into the park I honestly could not BELIEVE it. Tim promised me by hook or by crook he was going to get me there. He's always so good at trying to make all my dreams come true. Standing in front of a castle I'd seen a million pictures of was incredible. Riding all the rides I'd dreamed of riding as a little girl was surreal. Spending time with people who understood the meaning of lost childhood dreams, and being on cloud nine was so impactful. They cheered with me as I walked through the gates, they laughed with me as I rode the teacups, and they cried alongside me as I watched the fireworks show.

Yes this was the day that taught me that "no matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish WILL come true." Yes, it really happened.

Erin Thoughts- May 2010 "Disney Edition"

The countdown reads 4 days until my dream Disney adventure... I thought I'd share my Erin brain in honor of that trip.

-My favorite Disney movie is Enchanted. I know it's an odd choice considering it's not a classic, but I can't help it. I can be found DAYS after watching it still singing "That's how you know, that's how you know sheeee's the one."

-I'm always amazed at how much Minnie Mouse can do in heels. I can barely walk down a street.

- When I was 12, I dyed my hair bright red. People called me Ariel for a week. I didn't dye it red again...ever.

-Sometimes I wonder if Alice In Wonderland was the catalyst of my fear of felines. You've got to admit, there's nothing freakier than an insane cat.

-I think Disney really gave stepmothers a bad wrap...if anything, they should have focused more on mother-in-laws.

-I wasn't allowed to watch Darkwing Duck, to this day I'm still confused as to why.

- I don't know why people are so obsessed with Tinkerbell, she was kind of a brat.

-I've always wondered how Cinderella could be okay with trying on a shoe that every girl in the kingdom tried on first, all I can think of is foot fungus.

Mother's Day Reflections:3 years in

Three years ago, I celebrated my first mother's day. I was a new mom, enjoying every little thing about my baby. I couldn't have imagined then just how full my heart would become, how many lessons I would learn, or mistakes I would make. I couldn't have dreamed that 3 years later, I would be taking Mother's Day photos with 3 amazing babies.



The woman I was before my children came along is but a shadow of who I am now. My heart is so much more full. My desire to give my children love and support has allowed me to try things I would never have tried, and accomplish things I couldn't have ever seen myself doing. I have become a hairbow maker, a party planner, a sewing enthusiast, an avid reader, an interior designer, a documantarian, and a graphic designer since they came into my life; all things I could never have dreamed I would be. Being a mother has encouraged me to become a better person, a more well-rounded one.

I've become more relaxed- less of a control freak. My children have taught me that there is no controlling when they play in mud, or get covered in peanutbutter, there is no telling how covered in crayon your walls will become, or when somebody will have a dirty diaper that requires a wardrobe change. These are all things you have to roll with, and I have learned to not take things so seriously, or expect perfection.

So if I could say one thing to that mother 3 not-so-very-long years ago? I would tell her not to worry so much. You can't control things, you can't make them happen the way you want them to. All you can do, is sit back and enjoy the crazy ride and trust that the Lord knows what He's doing. Enjoy every kiss, snuggle, hug and wonderful thought that pops into their head. And find a way to laugh, even at the ridiculous mess your baby just made, everyday!

The Flan of a lifetime

So, it's no secret that I am rounding the end of my 20's. Even young people have bucket lists and mine is to go to Disneyland. I know it sounds CRAZY. But I've never been. Sure, my parents took me to Disneyworld when I was 6 months old. They tell me all I did was sleep. I'm pretty sure that doesn't count as actually going to Disney.

Ever since I met Tim, he's been trying to move heaven and earth to get us there. Constantly plotting, scheming and devising ways to make my dreams come true. That's when I came up with the term "Flanning". To Flan is to make a fake plan. You look at airline tickets, and hotels, you talk about the cost of gas, you rent vacation package DVD's and you do everything but hit the BUY button.

Then, things happen. Like: You spend all your honeymoon money on a scam and never get it back or you move across the country, you find out you're pregnant, or you have to buy a new minivan, or your drier and your dishwasher break at the same time. And somehow, one year, bleeds into three years, which doubles into 6 years. And before you know it, you've been Flanning for ten years and you've never done anything about it.

This year, we decided that 2011 was the year of Disney! Meaning: No more flanning, no more things getting in the way. It was going to be me and him and nothing but Mickey, Donald, Goofy, Buzz and Woody! We have a date on the calendar, and we have a date tonight to actually click the BUY button..for the first time EVER. I wish I could describe in words what this means to me. How amazing it feels, and how badly I need it. I think I'm gonna cry everytime I take a picture with a character, or go on a ride I've only seen in a commercial. Pretty much every picture of me is gonna be crying. But I don't care. It's time for this 29-year-old to slip back into her 4-year-old shoes and live the dream that childhood forgot.

So Disney- I hope you're ready for me... cause here I COME!

Jesus and A.D.D.

For those of you who don't know, I have A.D.D. Usually, most people associate this specifically with learning: reading, writing, classwork. Unfortunately, A.D.D. creeps into your life and grabs ahold of it in ways you never expect. Lately, I find it especially daunting at church.

A typical Sunday at church you hear the sound of babies crying, people coughing, cell phones ringing, people blowing their noses, women clacking their heels. Most people find them to be annoyances, but to me they are things that completely distract me from the Lord. So I have to be really careful about where I sit in a service. I can't be too close to the back because I constantly hear the door opening and closing, or I hear conversations in the back foyer, or normally that's where all the moms go to shush their babies. It's hard to sit in the middle because people's heads get in the way of the speaker, and if I can't see the speaker, I can't pay attention. So my only option is to sit in the front, which presents it's own problems when you are 15 minutes late because you just dropped off 3 kids. You can imagine my husband's frustration with me.

Today I found my A.D.D. particularily frustrating as it was communion. This is a time when I really try hard to focus and concentrate on the Lord, and remembering and honoring him. Unfortunately, the lady in the aisle across from me did not share my sentiments and instead decided to take the time of reflection to gab with her girlfriend about her week, and then provide running commentary on how the worship team was performing today. This really bothered me, and I gave the lady a couple of good glares, but I don't want to be known as the grumpy gus who glares at people all the time.

Then the sermon came and the halleluia lady started her "Praise God"s and her "Amen"s and the ever annoying "YES!" in 30 second intervals. I realize that you are emphasizing what the pastor is saying, but when you interject so frequently all it does is draw attention to you and makes me completely forget about the sermon. I find myself anticipating each thing she says, wondering which word she'll use, how loud it will be, if anyone else is as annoyed at it as I am . I even start counting. In case you were wondering- 37 "YES" s were said. I wonder how anyone with A.D.D. can be pentecostal. Can you imagine? Oh the tongues, and the slaying in the spirit. Who could focus on God?

This probably sounds awful of me. I am really not trying to be judgemental. I just already have such a difficult time focusing, I feel like church just exacerbates it. I often think of the sermon on the mound, and all the people just sitting there listening to Jesus. Was there a lone person out there with A.D.D.? Were they counting how many times the old guy in the corner fell asleep? Or were they watching the little kids climb the trees like I would be? I'd like to think that Jesus would understand... even when nobody else does.