Daily Thanks

This Thanksgiving morning, I find myself doing typical Saturday morning chores. Because we don’t have family in town, we have a pretty lo-key Thanksgiving celebration.

As I was doing the morning dishes (and, let’s not kid, last night’s and those from yesterday’s lunch),  I started thinking about being thankful. And, I am very thankful!

• I’m thankful for the piles and piles of dishes that I have to do today – because it means that my family has enough food to put on the table at every mealtime.
• I’m thankful for the loads and loads of laundry that I have to do today – because it means that we have clothes on our back.
• I’m thankful for the diapers I have to change today (and the fights that will come with stopping Louie long enough to get them changed) – because it means that we have a wonderful, feisty baby girl who is happy and healthy and … growing up too fast.
• I’m thankful for the sand that I will have to sweep up today – because it means that my very active Little Man has been doing what he loves and will be anxious to tell us all about it (over and over again). It means he’s healthy and happy and … growing up too fast.
• I’m thankful for the squabbles I’ll have to mediate today – because it means that the kids have each other and because I will eventually get to see them hug and tell each other, “I love you!”.
• I’m thankful for the insane amount of vacuuming that will need done – because it means that my house is truly a home and … a well lived in one at that!
• I’m thankful for the nagging that Husband will show up after dinner. The reminders of what is not done even though we are bone tired (Wait, it’s not going to be starting after dinner. He just popped his head in the door to tell me that blogging isn’t going to get the furniture rearranged.) – because it means that I have a Husband who is actively involved in everything this family does. A Husband who cares about tradition and family and togetherness.

I have so very, very many things to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. They are simply too many to count.

My family wishes you family a safe, healthy, and very blessed Thanksgiving!

I'll be hoppin' along now ...

Really? It’s Just a Flight, Right?

My mother is a wonderful grandma. [She's also a wonderful person, but that's really beyond the scope of this post.] Every year, she and my dad invite my kids to spend a month or so with her – without us. She’s done it since Little Man was 6 months old and I can’t tell you how much he looks forward to the visit every year!

[Yes, we know, we are very lucky. Yes, we know, that some will hate us for the blessing that is my mother. We can live with that.]

So we’ve reached the time when, for a little while, Husband and I revert back to DINK-dom. Ahhh … but not really. You see, once you have kids, you can never go back to anything else because you are ALWAYS thinking about … worrying about, missing, doing impressions of … your kids.

I do, however, embrace this time. It’s catch up, work hard, and don’t feel guilty time. I need it – desperately. But, I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that it’s getting harder and harder to put them on that plane. It’s getting much harder.

I would now like to share with you my experience for this year’s flight – the one that took my children almost 2000 miles from home. It’s OK if you laugh with at me. Really.

5:00 AM

Ugh. What? Oh. Dang. We need to hurry. Good thing Little Man slept in his clothes last night. Is Gram up?

5:30 AM

Ugh. OK … are we all ready? Little Man, you ready to go? Where are you? (Already downstairs in the car. Might be a tad excited.)

Awake enough now for self-talk and a stomach ache.

This is just nerves. Stop it. They’ll be fine. OK, gotta get going.

6:00 AM

Leave for the airport. Little Man talks non-stop. BK still trying to figure out why she’s up so dang early. Frankly, so am I.

6:45 AM

Arrive at the airport. Small talk abounds – little airport discussions. Little Man still talking – the car screw is his favorite part (that would be the circular ramp to the parking garage). When exactly did he become a morning person?

7:15 AM

Checked in. On the way to security. Little Man has had a bathroom stop. Husband and I are now realizing that they will be gone in about 10 minutes. Security guys somewhat empathetic to our plight tell us to move out of their neutral zone – but allow us to remain in the security line at the front so that we can watch.

We say a quick good-bye. Kids don’t cry – at all.

7:25 AM

Security is cleared. [They made BK walk through without my mom ... what? I can't even begin to explain this.] They are gone. Husband and I leave for work. Not much to say. Sad.

7:55 AM

Scheduled take off.

8:00 AM

I arrive at work – grouchy and, now that the adrenaline is gone, very tired. Did I mention yet, that this all happened on a Monday. Just wrong.

8:15 AM

Logged on to FlightAware and watched the plane climb out and away. [I have never done this before in my life. I'm not sure what possessed me to do it this time.] Got quite a bit of my “Monday work” done while I watched that plane, that lovely little green line, safely move across the country.

9:40 AM

Checked the flight status for the 20th time (they were at 39000 feet and being guided by the folks in Fort Worth) and quietly realized that I’d become a bit obsessed. I mean, really? What would I have done if that little green plane graphic would have disappeared from the screen. Wait. Bad thought. Not good to think of this when the plane is in the air!!!!

The self-talk began again.

It’s just a flight. Do you have any idea how many flights come and go with no problems. You do. I know you do. This is just a flight. People do this all the time. YOU do this. It’s fine. Stop worrying.

10:55 AM

Announced to the coworkers lucky enough to be in my office that my kids were at 700 ft. Sick, I know, but relieved. It was at this moment that I realized that my life had all but stopped for about 2 hours 49 minutes. Stopped for the duration of a flight – for something I had absolutely NO control over.

10:56 AM

Called my dad to tell him to call me when he got them. Made sure that he was going to be there to help.

11:10 AM

The phone rang. Kids were wonderful and were fantastic travelers. “Everyone said so.” They were heading to lunch. Everyone was fine – a little excited and a little tired.

Looking back, the stress I felt during this everyday 2 hour and 49 minute flight is stunning to me. My parents are completely capable of taking care of my kids. Frankly, if they weren’t, there would be no flight. Still, it was somehow very comforting to watch my kids and my mom fly safely across that screen at 39000 feet with a minute-by-minute play-by-play if I’d have wanted it.

And then, somewhere in the echo of all of the relief, I heard the voice of  our Pastor who spoke about faith and expectations on the Sunday just prior to this crazy Monday flight. One where I was reminded that God is in control and that worry doesn’t change a thing … “less worry about the future means more peace in the present.” Coincidental timing? I don’t think so.

They’ve been with their Grandparents for a week now. In that time, Little Man has learned to fish, entered a fishing derby, and caught numerous fish (which he also released). BK has gotten to know her way around and has witnessed her first real fireworks show. They are sharing a room and taking care of each other just as well as my parents are taking care of them.

They are fine. They are alive – I mean really living. They are having the time of their lives and doing things that we simply couldn’t do here at home. Life is good.

They got on that plane … and they’re still flying! We all are.

I'll be hoppin' along now ...

A Father is Born

I’ve been looking at this blank page for more than a few minutes trying to decide just which words to use. Trying to craft just the right message to covey just how cool it is to watch the birth of a father. I’m struggling. I want to get this right.

When Husband and I decided to get married, there was never any doubt that we would have children. Although we met and got married “later in life”, it was just a given that we would have a family. We were youthful – if not young – and idealistic. Life was good! [Life is still good, by the way. Very good!]

About seven years ago, Husband and I found out we were expecting for the first time. It was mid-June and just after our wedding reception.

[There's a running joke that we got pregnant between our wedding and reception. We did, actually ... the dates were like 3 months apart.]

We no sooner found out – and had time to get excited – than I miscarried. Six weeks – two days. We were devastated.

Not long after that we learned that we were expecting the second time. This time, we were cautious. We ran tests, prayed, and waited. At about 5 weeks, we knew that I would miscarry. The tests said so.  It was Thanksgiving. We gave thanks and prayed that the tests were wrong. They weren’t. I miscarried at six weeks – two days. We were devastated.

I believe that faith and parenthood/fatherhood are necessary companions. We had faith. We had pain and grief and all that goes with miscarriage. We were scared, but we had faith.

The doctors assured me that it was likely that there was nothing wrong – that miscarriages are quite common. We took solace in that and decided to just be faithful and see what would happen.

Several months went by before we found ourselves expecting for the third time. This time we were just plain scared. We were also “activists”. We asked questions, learned a whole lot of medical terms, ran tests, and were cautiously optimistic. Then we started watching the calendar for the dreaded six weeks – two days. The numbers on the tests weren’t right, but the hCG numbers were going up so … we prayed and prepared.

Six weeks – two days. No miscarriage. Six weeks – three days. Six weeks – four days. No miscarriage.

I will never forget the appointment – the day when my OB said, “Looks like you are going to have to raise this one.” Never.

Just about 9 months (and several anxious moments of our own making) later, we were blessed with Little Man. In that moment, in that messy, scary, exciting, crazy moment a father was born as well. It was instant – a sort of rush of all of the emotion that comes with the journey to the moment. He had no idea what do to, but he was hooked.

Husband grew up the youngest of three kids. He never babysat and, until he met me, he’d not spent a lot of time with children at all. Now, he had a little one depending on him all of the time. I’m sure that it scared him to death. But, we never saw it.

Little Man had Husband uncovering feelings that he never knew existed. He was our little bundle of shock and awe. Husband loved him more and more every day and, today, they have a bond so strong that I can’t imagine a power strong enough to tear it apart. I am in awe of their relationship.

Roughly four years later, we decided that Little Man needed a sibling brother. We weren’t going to have another child – you can ask anyone. We were content. And, then, all of a sudden, we weren’t. And, then? Nah, we’re good. But, then? We really should. It was insane.

We really couldn’t decide. And then we did. We decided that we were read to do this crazy dance all over again.

The first month, I just knew I wasn’t pregnant. I just knew it. I didn’t feel pregnant. But, I checked anyway and uh, yeh … WRONG! So, we quickly got a grip and counted on the calendar. Our first healthy milestone was that six week – two day mark.

The doctors tested me out the wazoo – almost 40 with a history of miscarriage earns you a lot of needles in early pregnancy! I was on a business trip and bugged the sin out of the nurses at my doctor’s office. But, there they were – perfectly textbook hCG numbers and, then a strong heartbeat. We were going to have another baby. Little Man was going to have a brother.

Yeh, except that God had some other plans. Little Man apparently needed a sister. Who knew? And, as it turns out? Daddy needed a baby girl.

When we found out BK was not a boy there was some denial going on. Husband refused to buy in to what the nurses and ultrasound pictures were saying. She was a boy. What would we do with a girl? He already had the boy thing down.

But, sure enough, little BK showed up a tad ahead of schedule and full of healthy (if tiny) spunk! At 5 pounds 12 ounces, she was SO tiny and feminine – the complete opposite of her big brother.

And, Daddy? Well, if I am to be honest, I’d tell you that he was just scared. He stayed back this time … loving, but a little standoffish. He loved, supported, took care of … but didn’t really bond initially.

She was so small and so pink … and Little Man needed him … and she was so small and fragile.

Then, one morning in the first part of her second month, I looked over at the rocking chair and saw a father being born once again. In the quiet morning light with eau d’formula floating heavily in the air, I watched my husband fall completely in love with his daughter. I literally watched him fall. It was a precious moment that I will treasure forever.

BK is in love with her Daddy – as it should be. She thinks he hangs the moon – and the feeling is mutual. They have created a wonderful relationship that gives me such confidence in her future. I am in awe of their relationship.

My kids and their Dad are an awesome force. They love each other and hold nothing back. It’s pure and raw and real. They share bonds that will get them through the rough times. I am thankful for this to a point beyond expression. I wrote this post to honor the journey. The bond. The man.

Happy Father’s Day, Husband … and to all fathers everywhere!

We are beyond blessed to have you in our lives.

I'll be hoppin' along now ...

Emotions in Motion

This time of year produces a rollercoaster of emotions for me. If I didn’t know better – if I didn’t know the root cause [CRAZY work schedule] – I would probably be a great candidate for therapy. [LOL ... please know that I'm not claiming sanity here. I might be a good candidate anyway!] So, when the You Capture challenge for the week – Emotion – popped up, I was a bit, er, uh, well, emotional about the whole thing.

I really wanted to do something that asked me to challenge myself. I wanted to think in ways that would either push my photography skills – lighting and subject and composition, oh my – or my photo editing skills.

What to do? What to do?

Of course, the first thing that came to mind was that it would be fairly easy to catch emotion on film for this little challenge – the kids offer up heaps and loads of emotional outbursts daily. So, I started there.

Then, I had the idea of finding inanimate (or at least non-human) subjects that would serve to represent – or perhaps be a metaphor for – different emotions. So, I started with the definition of emotion and see where that might take me. [I really love Wikipedia, by the way. I know many educators don't ... but I think it's fantastic!] Then, I looked for other lists and found this one. Yep, got pretty cerebral about all of this. But, these little rabbit trails took me all over my community! And, I’m so glad that they did!!!

I live in a place where there is a lot of new. New homes, businesses, roads … everything. But all of that new encroached on a very old farm community. Driving around, I found that there’s not a lot of emotion to be found in the new … but the old? That’s a completely different story.

Here’s some of the emotion I found today while I was out on the dusty roads [OK, literally ... you should see my van.] with my eyes open!

I have a greater respect for what was here before all of the subdivided neighborhoods that we call home. I love our community and I love the sense of the past that I found as I was driving around. It made me love my community even more than I did before!

I’ve plunked these into this post in order from least to most favorite – picture of BK all excited about playing in the water aside! [The burrowing owls win partly because they are so dang cute and I was shocked to see them just hanging out.] In looking at the actual photographs and comparing them to last week’s shots … these are not as vivid and “alive” to me. Yet, in so many ways, they are more … ahh, hard to explain. So, we’ll just let them marinate for a tad and see!

Oh, and before I sign off … Andrea over at Prairie Lady posted her capture for this week early and it’s stunning. Seriously. If you’ve not gone to take a look yet, you should!

I'll be hoppin' along now ...

Blissful Sunday

Have you ever had one of those days that was so good it made you smug? You know. The kind of day that seems to have been conjured out of a scene from a great historical romance novel [not that I read those] or from a Lifetime Original Movie [not that I watch those] or from someone else’s life.

Bliss.

Let me see if I can paint you a picture. Close your eyes. [Wait! No. Don't. That won't work!] Ahem.

The sun snuck up over the horizon while we were all sleeping and was well into its task of warming up the day when I heard Little Man say, “Mom, can it be morning? I can’t sleep anymore and I hear the other kids getting up.” I shooed him out of the room to get what I imagine was a less-than-completely-nutritious breakfast with his friends. I took a few minutes to myself, threw on beach attire, and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

In short order, everyone was fed, dressed and ready for the beach! And, the fun began.

With a very delicious and refreshing drink in one hand and BK in the other, I made the short trek to the beach as Husband, Little Man, and some of the others set up “camp” for the day. To our delight, the tide was out and the tide pools were just begging to be explored. The sun was brilliant and the breeze kept the temperature near perfect.

As we were playing, another beach-goer approached and said that there were dolphins playing not far from where  we were sitting. In short order, my camera and I were on a boat heading their way thanks to a local vendor! Dolphin watching in a small boat is amazing.

After my dolphin adventure, it was time to head to one of the beach houses for a massage. Husband and the kids were playing in the tide pools, so I slipped away.

I was looking forward to this massage! Some of the others in our group had described theirs as “the best massage they’d ever had” … sounded wonderful. Changed and ready to be deeply relaxed, I closed my eyes. It was then that I heard Amazing Grace being played in the background. I don’t remember much of that hour other than it was the perfect combination of relaxation and rejoicing.

BK was napping when I recovered from my relaxed haze so I went to relieve Husband. To my surprise, I found a sleeping baby in an empty house (once Husband returned to the beach)! Windows open. Beach breezes blowing in. This is also known as the PERFECT reading environment.

Once we’d all had naps and lunch, it was back to the beach for more playing and discovering! Nothing to do but enjoy the day and play!

This was how I spent last Sunday. It’s still so fresh that I can close my eyes and mentally return to that beach and its relaxing breezes. These words and pictures don’t do it justice.

I know we’ll be back there again. Until then, I’ll look for bliss in small things. Like the little giggle I just heard on the baby monitor. The giggle that tells me BK is awake, happy, and ready to play with her mom!

Ahhh, bliss.

Starting Over

We’re nearing spring … the time of the year when things are, once again, fresh and new. It’s a really hopeful time of year and I love it – I always have. I’m anxiously waiting for the flowers to perk up and give us their fabulous flash of brilliance.

It’s springtime for my family too, I guess. Seeds that were planted weeks and months ago are starting to sprout and struggle to find sun!

I feel like today is the culmination of a huge gardening effort [and the whole metaphor here is feeling a tad bizarre because I don't garden at all]! Today is a day when it feels like everything has changed and we are starting over.

It’s both exciting and scary. It’s exhausting and, I hope, will be rewarding.

This morning, Daddy went off to work without us. [We've been carpooling for almost a year now and the kids really like for us all to be together!]  He ventured out early to get to his first day of work on time. It’s been a very long time since he’s had a first day of work!

He’s on to new professional challenges and, given the current economic conditions, we are blessed in so many ways on this one! I’m excited for him and intrigued about learning new things right along with him.

However, starting over means that he’s the newbie again and he’s got to earn their confidence and respect. I don’t doubt his ability at all. I empathize with him about the effort it will take to till the path and cultivate the relationships. I truly believe that you reap what you sow. [Oh, the heck with it, the dang metaphor works.]

Husband isn’t the only one sprouting and growing this spring. [OK, this is a really funny visual image for me!!!]  

This morning, Little Man and BK got re-potted so-to-speak. They started at a completely different school and today is a day for them to meet new teachers, build new friendships, and examine new boundaries. 

We’d been at their old school for five years and were MUCH loved there. There were many tears shed on our last days there.

Today, their new pots don’t feel quite right. Everything looks and feels different … funny … unfamiliar. They aren’t in the comfortable home that they’ve known for so long and so well. It’s hard to start over even when it’s good for you and will allow you to grow. It’s just hard.

I don’t doubt their abilities to cultivate new friendships and relationships either. In fact, I bet they’ll finger paint their new pots in vibrant shades of red and pink and all sorts of other colors! I think they’ll be settled in and on their way by pickup time … although I think they’ll be ready for some familiarity and snuggles!

I worry for them. I’m their mom.

I feel a bit like the gardener I’ve already told you that I’m not! There are all of these fantastic and amazing things happening around me and it’s my job to make sure that I water but don’t over water, that I allow sun but not too much sun, and I provide shelter so that things can take their own course when necessary. I am the active observer in all of this.

Right now, it’s not a role I like very much because my instinct to protect and shelter are getting in the way of what I really need to do here.

My bones are aching from the effort of projecting outward calm and excitement for each of these new adventures! What I am actually feeling, of course, is the instinct to put them in the car and take them to their old school … or maybe to make it a stay home day to put off the inevitable for one more day.

I’m counting the hours until I can go pick them up and hear about their days … and snuggle with them while we hatch plans for what tomorrow will be like.

While I’m certainly not starting over, it appears that I’m in a bit of a growth spurt! I guess I’m learning once again to cultivate the seeds that were sown - regardless of whether they were planted in a place and time that were of my own design.

With all this growth, I’d bet that it’ll be my time soon to get re-potted. Until then, I’ll be tending my little garden [or, maybe ... and quite possibly ... nay probably ... spreading around some fertilizer!]

Equal Time

Little Man gets a lot of ink on this blog. So, tonight I thought it’d be good to give BK some equal time.

BK is one of the happiest babies I’ve ever been around – not kidding. This isn’t mommy-bias. She’s also got a mind of her own and a will stronger than … stronger than … well, let’s just called her strong-willed. [Read stubborn as an ox and opinionated as all get out.] It’s started us worrying a lot about her teen years.

We’ve had glimpse of this for a long time now. But, recently, her teachers have started to send us daily evidence. Her daily reports are all about “Miss Thing being Miss Thing”. I can’t decide if they find it cute or if they are annoyed. I hope they don’t expect behavior changes – she just turned 1.

So, here are a few of the reports. I must tell you that they really amuse me. [Remind me I said that when I start writing about how impossible she is to reason with.]

BK had a good day. She was walking with the walker and sat in the Hippo [This is the bucket on the walker.] Emily pushed BK in it. BK got very upset and scolded Emily. She didn’t want to be pushed. BK waved her arms in Emily’s direction and continued to scold her. Emily stopped pushing BK.

I swear it said scolded! Oh, and I”m changing all of the kid’s names in these…

BK had a very talkative day. She sat on the floor with the baseball toy in front of her and the bat in her hand. She was telling the teachers how to play the game. She kept hitting on the top of the toy with the bat. The teachers kept asking her questions about the game. She stopped talking and put her hand up as if to say, “Wait, I have to think.” [Which is a much better translation than "talk to the hand".] 

I’m seeing a bit of a pattern. You?

BK had a good day. BK was very insistent today. She insisted on climbing on the table. She insisted on taking other baby’s binkies and teethers. She insisted on chewing on anything sh could put in her mouth.

Yesterday, she crawled to an area where she’s not allowed to be and when a teacher asked her to come back to where the other kids are, she “argued” the point. Apparently, loudly!

And so it goes. Bet you can’t wait until she can talk. I can’t! I’ll bet we’re going to have some really interesting conversations … twitter feed into overdrive!

What a Difference a Year Makes!

Merry Christmas!!! I hope you had a great day with friends and family!

This time last year (literally folks) I started having contractions. We’d had a wonderful Christmas – good gifts, good food, good times! I’d cooked much of that good food – I have no idea why, really. I mean, I was REALLY pregnant and big as a stinkin’ house. But, I was in the mood so … I cooked.

I’d been having contractions on and off for most of December and I’d basically just decided that BK was coming on the 28th as planned. On Christmas day, just in case,  I told her to stay put. I didn’t want to have to explain to Little Man that Santa doesn’t usually bring babies. I didn’t want his Christmas to be interrupted because I knew his next year would be for sure!

So, at around 10 PM, when the contractions started up? I didn’t think too much about it … until I couldn’t sleep through them. Then, I thought, “Hmmm … I think these might be real.”

I woke Husband up around midnight and we talked and timed until about 2. Then we woke the neighbors who’d agreed to watch Little Man, and went to the hospital.

BK stayed put on Christmas. She arrived the next morning at about 9:45 or so. It was not a long labor, really. In fact, I slept through most of it. It was a very peaceful event. Very calm, cool, and collected.

Fast forward to tonight.

BK has had her first Christmas. She ate a lot of wrapping paper. [We tried to keep her from actually eating it, but she's fast and wrapping paper gets mushy pretty quickly.] She played with her big brother. She took a nap. She creeped around and basically got into everything. It was the total opposite of how she came into the world. Not much was calm, cool, or collected.

And now? She’s finally asleep. [I think.]

I could never have guessed, a year ago, how much she would change our lives and I can’t really put my finger on where this year has gone. It’s flown and she’s grown. Last year she wasn’t here and now I can’t imagine life without her.

So, where does that leave us tonight? Well, Husband has gone to bed and will probably get to sleep though the night. Little Man is snuggled up, tired and content. Me? Well, I’m definitely NOT having contractions.

Tomorrow, this little family will wake up and enjoy the day together – just hanging out and playing. [My guess is that there will be some cake involved!]

What a difference a year makes!

Feeding Frenzy

This was a crazy Sunday … good and exhausting! While there are quite a few stories I could tell – most of them about the antics of the kids – there was an overarching theme to the day that struck a chord with me. I’ll try to share it well. I may fail.

There is a video clip that’s been floating around since well before YouTube. It’s a fascinating look at how piranha work over their prey. Think back, you know the one. It shows a scene where all of the fish are focused on one and only one objective – get the food now.

I took BK to her Gram’s church today. (Now, let me connect the dots here or our stories may not take the same path and that would be too bad! … and while I’m at it, let me say that no children were harmed in the experience of this story. Quite the contrary, I think everyone had a very fine day!)

Our Sunday visit to church today was different. You see, the church we attended is smack dab in the middle of a community of mostly retired people. Many of them are very active, but this group of folks has quite a bit of life under its belt.

When you bring a baby into that environment, the grandma and grandpa instincts shift into high gear immediately. I’m not kidding you. I think they caught a whiff of her cute BK scent when her Gram brought her in because during and after the service, they gravitated her way. Like moths to flame … uh, ummm … like pirhanna to prey. It was amazing and I was not going to be the one to stand in the way of their baby fix. Not a chance in … wait, church story.

There was one moment that will explain this better than anything (you really needed to be there to experience it). About 5 minutes into fellowship hour, a lady I’d never seen before walked up to me…

Very Nice Lady (VNL): Ms. _____ saw the baby across the sanctuary and wants to see her.

Me: (tentatively) OK.

VNL: She has Parkinson’s and she can’t come to you.

Me: (confident now) Oh, so we need to go for a visit?  Sure!

VNL: (very happy) Thank you!

It took us 5 minutes to cross a space of about 100 feet. Every time I took a step forward, someone would step in my path to see BK. Thankfully, BK is a very happy baby and likes attention – a lot.

We spent about 10 minutes with Ms. _____ before she and her family headed to lunch. Then, we made our way back to Fellowship Hall and a host of folks who “just had” to see the baby. It’s quite possible that BK was held, kissed, hugged, touched, or complimented by about 80% of the folks there. Everyone who met us seemed lighter for their interaction with BK. They went away with a smile (and so did BK).

After church, Gram decided we needed to go for brunch. We did and you know what? The exact same thing happened again. All eyes in the room were on BK. Folks around us spent a lot of their meal just watching her eat and she put on a great show – and made a royal mess! I’m not kidding … about either of those things!

The Pastor was at brunch as well … which is acutally a very nice and unplanned segue back to the service. The sermon today was part of a tithing and commitment series. During it, the Pastor spoke about giving what was in your hands to give. He spoke about giving of time and energy and in several places he asked, “What are you holding in your hands?”

When he asked that, I was literally holding BK (who thankfully decided to sleep rather than sing with the choir). Each time he asked, I’d smile and tell myself, “Yeh, bet that’s not what me means.”

Now, many hours later, I’ve got to tell you that I still don’t think he was advocating that I tithe BK. He was, after all, speaking about the need to support the church – financially and otherwise. But I also have to tell you that there is something to sharing what I was literally holding during that sermon.

When I brought BK to church today, it was so that we could worship with her Gram. I was there for us. Turns out that we may have also been there for them. It may be that our gift to this church on this day was a willingness to freely share a bit of youth with folks who don’t see it enough … an ornery smile, a flirt, a giggle, and a blown kiss to remind everyone that life is about more than their present worries.

I think there’s a lesson here beyond this congregation and beyond this community. Youth brings vitality and energy. Age brings experience and wisdom. We need each other. There’s a lot at the table that can be shared and the benefits can be great, but it can only happen if we are willing to join in the feeding frenzy.

Twitter at 30,000 Feet

It’s getting to be late evening. The skies are clear and full of stars. The moon is insanely bright. There is not a cow to be smelled for miles. BK is snugly ensconced in bed between her grandparents (I’m not reading anything written by the American Academy of Pediatrics for a couple of days.). Little Man is snuggled into his own personal big bed heaven. I am alone. It is quiet. I am exhausted.

Today I flew across country in a scenario that included more children than adults. This is something that scares the crap out of me and something I do not advocate. That said, people do it all the time. I’m a grown up. Meh.

I need to tell you that my children are EXCELLENT travelers. They really are (except now they won’t be because I’ve gone and bragged on them and that never ends well). But I will also tell you that I’m seriously considering only taking one of them home with me because today was just freakin’ nuts.

This brings me to the thought that triggered this blog topic tonight.

Someone should really consider figuring out a way to tweet from a flight. I bet you’d get some pretty interesting stuff … like, you know, from the lady who was forced to sit next to us today and those guys a couple of rows up who tried to open a tab so that the flight attendants would keep the beer coming.

If it would have been technically possible to tweet from 30,000 feet (and if I would have been stupid enough to try it given the situation), the feed might have looked something like this.

jenstwit: The pilots aren’t here. The plane is full. I’m stuck in the back. This is not good.

jenstwit: This airline is NEVER late. Why today? Please, please please pray that we take off soon.

jenstwit: BK has fallen asleep. We’ve not taken off yet. This is not going to end well.

jenstwit: Yay! We are in the air. They are making announcements – chatty today. Really? Is this necessary? BK is still sleeping – wait, no, crap she’s up. This flight is over 3 hours. We are in trouble.

jenstwit: BK just tore a hole in all of the snack bags. Goldfish are flopping around everywhere. We’ll have to eat them. Little Man is OK with that.

jenstwit: BK moves like Little Man talks. Nonstop. 

jenstwit: Little Man is melting into his seat. He reminds me of melted butter right now – no form, slippery, and impossible to clean up. BK is still moving.

jenstwit: Just got a Coke. Ahhh … BK just grabbed the can. The lady next to us is kind.

jenstwit: Little Man is watching a movie. Excellent. BK is fighting a nap like she’s never fought in her life. I’m going to win if it kills me. If I don’t win, the lady next to us might kill me. This might be life or death.

jenstwit: OK, that was overly dramatic. The lady next to us has the patience of Job. (But she’s also had the travel day from hell – even before sitting next to us – and you never know when someone will snap.)

jenstwit: Please, please, please pray that they turn the fasten seat belt sign off soon!

jenstwit: What will I do if Little Man has to go to the bathroom? Please, please, please pray that he won’t have to.

jenstwit: You know … when Husband tells me that he doesn’t think that the diaper he put on is on quite right, I need to listen.

jenstwit: BK just leaked all over her pants, my shirt, and my jeans. Quick thinking and me throwing most of the diaper bag on the floor as I quickly found diapers saved the day.

jenstwit: Finally, BK is asleep. She still hasn’t stopped moving, though. Can’t get comfortable. I need a nap.

jenstwit: When is this plane going to land?

jenstwit: How much longer?

jenstwit: Crap, Little Man’s movie is over and I can’t move to get him something else or I’ll wake up BK. 

jenstwit: Crap, BK is awake again and not happy about being  in a middle seat. Come to think of it, I’m not too happy about being in a middle seat either.

jenstwit: Amen. We can see trees.

jenstwit: We have crap everywhere. Is there an FAA penalty if I just leave it and walk away?

jenstwit: We’re heading off the plane. Last ones off. So late that they are actually boarding the next set of passengers. … don’t care. We are getting off the plane and there will be more adults soon!!!

Now that it’s quiet and I’m removed from the drama of it all, I can tell you that I still think my kids are excellent travelers. BK is at a stage where she needs to move and we were not in any position to accommodate her. Little Man was a real trooper and did what he was asked to do. And … the lady next to us told me that she thought they’d been good (even after she had to hold BK while I found a diaper for that little leaky moment).

But … given my mental state at the time, I still think it would have made for a good laugh for those with their feet on the ground!

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