"I love writing about nothing. It is the only thing I know anything about." ~ Oscar Wilde

Friday, October 30, 2015

Once Upon A Time...

I'm in a generous mood.
It's so unlike me.

The boys came home from school and started on their chores right away. Adam finished first and asked if he could have some of his candy from school.


Can I have two pieces of candy?


Can I have more than two?


I later heard him telling Joe...."Joe! Like, hurry up and finish your chores. Mom's saying yes!"

"She is?!?!?!?"

Too bad only three of my kids are home. The others will never believe this actually happened. They'll think it's a made up story

Wednesday, October 28, 2015


When your twelve-year-old daughter is
the oldest of seven
and the only girl
you tend to easily and frequently forget
that she's only twelve. 

You put expectations on her, like 
perfect judgment in
all situations.

So, yeah, I forgot.
For a minute.
But she's only been living and breathing in this world for twelve years.
Just twelve.
She's still 100% kid.
She doesn't have it all figured out.
And she shouldn't have to act like she does.

I'm gonna try to remember that.
Hell, I don't have it all figured out, either.
I think I need to remember that that's ok, too.

Monday, October 26, 2015

Mustache Day

Today's dilemma....mustaches.

It's Red Ribbon Week at the kids' school, which has something to do with being drug free. I'm not really sure. All it means to my kids is--they get to dress up in special clothes for the week.
Red Shirt Day.
Backwards Shirt Day.
School Spirit Day.
You get the point. The kids love those special days. And I think they're cute...I'm just never prepared. What it looks like here is--mom and dad digging through the laundry bucket looking for red shirts and tossing them to kids.

Here's one! Wait....that one smells. Wear this one! It's a little small...but it's fine! Then go look in your brother's closet. Well then look in your sister's closet. Wear it! It doesn't look girlie at all! Do you think red underwear count?

All of the kids made it out of the house in red today, so pats on the back for mom and dad. Mostly dad, because today I had an I Refuse To Accept That It's Morning-morning. I slept like crap last night, so as soon as their freakishly loud behinds got out of bed, I put on my headphones and drowned out their noise. I opened an eye every now and then and saw kids blur by in red, so I consider that a contribution. I knew last week that Mustache Day was going to be part of this week's festivities. So being the prepared, organized, and on-the-ball mother that I am, I ordered stick-on mustaches from Amazon. Two-day shipping. Go me! Problem is, I got sidetracked and forgot to click Place Order Now. So here I am, on the day before Mustache Day, with no mustaches.

Normal mothers would just run to the store and get some. It's Halloween week. There's bound to be stick-on mustaches everywhere. But that would require putting on a bra, changing out of sweat pants, teeth brushing, hair brushing, dressing children, finding jackets, finding my phone, finding my purse, loading up in the van.....etc. And I'm not feeling all that. You get me? So I googled mustache day at school sharpie on kids face. I was basically trying to gauge just how bad of a mom I would be if I actually & purposely wrote on my child's face with a permanent marker. Just trying to see if other moms did that, too, you know? But no. Apparently they don't do that. I read a post from one very together and appropriate mother about the toxicity in sharpies, blah, blah, blah. I bet she already has her bra on for the day. Overachievers. All the other sharpie mustache commentary was in reference to drunk people drawing on their drunk and passed out friends. Crap. All I need is for the teachers and other school moms to now think I'm drunk. And my luck, I wouldn't be able to get the sharpie off at the end of the day, and we'd end up with Mustache Week.

Friday, October 23, 2015

Exercising Sara

I took a hike today. It was originally supposed to be a 'trail run', but after my friend realized I was out of breath and clomping through the woods like a drunk person, after a mere 5 minutes, she graciously changed the 'run' to a 'walk.' I still spent the hour-long hike tripping and stumbling because my legs were jello. Thank goodness she was walking in front of me so she was oblivious to much of it. But seriously, picture 'drunk mom walking through the woods.' That's what I felt like. But I'm on a fitness mission. This week. I have done three fitness classes and a hike in five days! Textbook fitness mission. And I did nothing in the several previous months. But you have to start somewhere, right?! Say hi to Exercising Sara:

It would have been more convincing if I'd taken photos of me actually on the hike or in my workout clothes, but I was too tired to lift my selfie-taking arm until just now. I took a kickboxing class last night, followed by a core class, and every muscle in my body is screaming at me, "Who do you think you are?" "Sit your butt down and eat a Kit-Kat!" I said at least 92 internal cuss words last night before my last class was over. My sweet little fitness instructor was certainly thrilled, I'm sure, when I started to just roll or crawl from one station to the next during the core class. I seriously couldn't bring myself to stand up, walk two feet, and get back down on the floor. But I've grown seven children behind these abs. It's gonna take a minute to whip them into shape. The classes are in my old elementary school building, which is one of my favorite places ever. I started taking a beginner's yoga class a couple of weeks ago, not so much because I was interested in getting fit, but because I'm nosy and wanted to see the inside of my old elementary school. For real, the fitness classes are in my former Kindergarten classroom. During downward facing dog I'm thinking about how the cafeteria brought our little milk cartons in on a tray and sat them right over there by those hand weights! I am very nostalgic about my old school, which was boarded up just a few years after I left it. I love it so much, and when I heard it was being reopened I actually cried. For real cried. And when I found out that my former friend, whom I've known since Kindergarten and whom I love love love, was the one who bought the school, I for real cried some more. I actually wrote a whole blog post about how much I loved it and how happy I am, but by the end of the post, my nostalgia sounded about ten notches past crazy, and how much I love that my old friend was involved sounded like full on needs a restraining order love. That post is currently saved in drafts. It needs some tweaking. But the point is, I got my behind down to the school to work out, and now I'm in the mood. I've decided that, as Garth Brooks would say, I'm much to young to feel this damn old. I had a little, very-minor health scare a couple of weeks ago. After my mammogram, I had to have some other tests done, which ultimately led to two biopsies. (Ummm, needles in boobs=no bueno.) All came back fine, but it helped put into perspective that I'm wasting my young and healthy years feeling old and unhealthy! Just like how I now look back at pictures of me in my 20's and think, "Man! I wish I knew then how cute & skinny I was," I'm going to someday look back at me at 38 and think, "Man! I wish I had gotten in better shape when I still had the energy for it and didn't pee every time I lunged!"

So that's what I'm gonna do. :)

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Just Rainy Day Stuff

I love a rainy day.

I have little boys in the house today; one is making 'sandwiches' out of cotton balls and ketchup, while the other carries around a Ziploc bag full of water and coins. I love the imaginations of children. Only a four-year-old would think....Let's make sandwiches! With cotton balls! And condiments! It's very easy to overlook all the little bits of sweetness in our children. One day I know I will long for little people carrying around baggies full of water, in their droopy diapers and bare feet. So I'm going to enjoy it today.

Friday, September 25, 2015

Friday MyDay

Everybody loves a Friday. But I have kid-free Fridays....so I love me a Friday. It's easy to be overwhelmed with the busy-ness of being a mom. So figure out what you need to recharge, and make that happen! And if there's something you can do to make it happen for someone else, do that too! What I needed was to be alone in my house for a bit. And I needed some quiet all around me. And I needed an opportunity to miss my children, and an opportunity to be refreshed and ready to see them. Brandon and I figured out a way to make it happen for me. Figure out a way to make it happen for you. And do it....ummmm....today.

You most certainly deserve it.

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Guinness Records

Josiah came in from playing and told me he thought the hair on his legs could win him a world record.
"Hairiest kid legs ever!"
Nah, I told him. I've seen a lot worse.

But them eyebrows....
they might could win ya something.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015


You know you've been too busy for too long when your husband's text saying he will be taking a week off causes you to burst into tears.

They were Hallelujah, I Was About To Drown tears.

I hate that feeling of it's all just too much. And I hate how it kind of sneaks up on you. You start to feel like you're losing control of little areas here and there, and then all of a sudden you're in a full-on tailspin. The kids are crazy. The house is overwhelming. Nobody likes anybody. I know I'm not the only one.


But Been Here. Done This. I got it.

Sunday, September 13, 2015


I have to admit, it took me a little time to accept the fact that my kids weren't going to be DRAGONS. I live with my own small village family in the same house in which I was raised, and when I was in school, we traveled to the next town south for school. And we were the Dragons. I was proud of my school...I thought we had a cool name...and I figured my kids would, one day, be Dragons, too. My hubby Brandon, my high school sweetheart, (awwwww!) was an athlete, so he wore the name proudly and well. I mostly just made out with athletes, but I looked great in their Dragons jackets. :) Upon moving back to my hometown, and ultimately to my homeplace, I assumed that my kids would be continuing the Dragon tradition. But the boundary line regarding which students go to which schools had changed, and our new home school was to be in the next town north. Our kids were going to be HORNETS.

And that took me a minute.

Rivalries between next-door schools are everywhere. Everyone has that same feeling when they talk about their rival schools. Somewhere deep down, our innards are chanting our school song when we see their school colors. It's just ingrained in us as part of the high school experience. Part of building a healthy dose of pride begins with the ridiculousness of 'my team is better than your team.' It's normal growing up stuff. But when you're forced to join the other team, as an adult, that inner kid stomps their feet and crosses their arms. It's a 'Hell no! We won't go!' moment.

But, of course, we went.

When our first two were in their first year or two of school, we still thought our school placement was only temporary. We'll start as a Hornet, but eventually we'll be Dragons. But as time went on, and we realized school boards don't just allow people to move around in corporations on the simple fact that 'We used to be Dragons! D-R-A-G-O-N-S!' There were school crowding issues, and no one was going to make any exceptions for the former school athlete and his former 'make-out with school athletes' wife and their seven kids.

As enticing as that sounds.

So we had to embrace it. We had to get over our Dragon selves, and be all-in Hornets. We bought the shirts. I put the magnets on the van. And we decided we better start making friends in this new community. I really thought that would be the challenge. Because a lot of Hornet kids have Hornet parents and Hornet grandparents. And here were a couple of Dragons cementing themselves into their community. I knew it would be hard. Because those Hornets are tough and protective and loyal. They don't want Dragons coming in and messing up their nest.

Weirdest thing happened. I was all wrong.

We started talking to other parents....and they smiled and talked to us, too. Weird!

We got the courage to confess our Dragon history....and they could have cared less. Wait...what?!?

And when we accidentally wore an old Dragon shirt out in the community....they laughed at us and said, "Nice shirt!" and then asked about our kids. Crazy.

The Hornet community is awesome. I'm sure the Dragon community is awesome, too. I know a lot of people in the Dragon community, and I know firsthand that they are awesome. But I've finally taken the opportunity to learn what the Hornets are really made of. With seven kids, I have many opportunities to see the people of the community. I see them at Open House....I see them at the ball field....I see them at the basketball camps....I see them at the 4-way stop. And I see people I like. I see people with whom I want to be friends, and who I want to be involved in my children's lives. I see fiercely devoted parents. I see volunteer after volunteer after volunteer. I see older students who take younger students under their wings. I see athletes spending their time teaching younger athletes. I see teachers pouring into and investing in their students. It's a truly awesome group of people.

And now I realize, these people are everywhere! They are in every community! All I had to do was stop being annoyed that I wasn't in the midst of those awesome people, and start enjoying the awesome people around me. Because the Hornets are

A-W-E  S-O-M-E
Awesome, Awesome!

Thursday, September 10, 2015

My 9/11 Story

Tomorrow is September 11th, and most adults remember where they were 14 years ago. Just like my parents remember when JFK was assassinated, and I remember when the Challenger exploded, we all remember 9/11. Whether as a parent or as a child or, like me, as a teacher. I was a young 24-year old, teaching fourth grade. I remember those sweet little fourth grade faces. I could cry just thinking about them and how much I loved them. My own personal 'baby boom' had not yet begun, so I was particularly maternal towards them, even though I really had no clue what maternal really meant. That Tuesday was a busy one in my classroom. Tuesdays were the days that we had Computer Lab. Unlike Library or PE or Art or Music, where the students go to another teacher for a short period of time, 'Computer Lab' was the special class for which I was responsible. I was the teacher for their computer lab, so my students didn't leave me at all that day until they went to lunch. By the time I was out from under my pile of fourth graders at 11:30, much had already happened in making September 11th the tragedy that we all know it to be. I went to the teachers' lounge for my own lunch and came upon a shut door. Upon entering, I noticed a swarm of teachers around the television. It was a big box TV that had been wheeled in from the library, and sitting around it with sick stomachs and in somber silence were some of my fellow teachers. There were teachers who were parents, anxious to get home. There was a Vietnam vet, clearly in the grips of anger and frustration, with horrific memories written all over his face. And there was me...a sort of adult, not really knowing what to make of all of it. I was naive enough to hope that it was all just some fluke accident, yet mature enough to suspect that everything was changing. And boy, everything changed.

As the day progressed at school, my students remained in their pre 9/11 world. Throughout the day, they remained oblivious to what was going on outside of our little classroom chatter about possessive nouns and long division and the upcoming science fair. I think the decision was made by our principal to not discuss what was happening with the children until after they had been home to talk with their parents. And I think it was definitely the appropriate decision, because that 24-year old teacher would not have even known where to start. A couple of students were pulled out of class early that day by their nervous parents. I remember thinking at the time that it was silly to take them home early...because we certainly weren't in any danger. But as a parent now myself, I know that nervous feeling deep down in the pit of your stomach that requires you to have your children in your presence. I refuse to go against that feeling now, and I also refuse to apologize for it-even when it seems irrational. My children's school had a tornado hit it a few years ago, and I was nervous that day about the weather. I did not expect that a tornado was truly coming, but I was nervous enough that that feeling was in my gut, and all I knew was that I wanted all my babies home with me. I picked them up early from school, a couple of hours before the tornado demolished the school. Tragedies and miracles happened all around our community that day, and I'm glad I didn't have to face any consequences for not listening to that feeling.

The principal of our school at the time of 9/11 was Mr. B, and he was everything this teacher could ever want in a principal. He was fun and supportive, perfectly allowing me to teach my way, while helping me along the way. The second the students were all out of the building on that Tuesday, he called us all to the teachers' lounge. I don't remember what all he said, but it was exactly what I needed to hear. I was living three hours away from my own parents, and while Brandon and I were already married and living our lives as 'responsible adults', tragic moments like 9/11 are when you just want to curl up on your parents' couch. But Mr. B was a surrogate father figure for me the whole time I taught at that school, and he said just enough to calm my fears and guide me through the upcoming days of questions and concerns from my students. He ended our meeting with "Go home and hug your babies." Remembering that brings tears to my eyes now. He was an exceptional leader.

The next few days were spent in a weird sort of limbo. We tried to get back to business as usual in the classroom, even though there was nothing usual going on anywhere. The news had taken on a new life of its own, beginning what we now know as the 24-hour news cycle. Parts of the world were at a complete stand still, and there was an air of uncertainty everywhere we went. My students had so many questions and were trying to deal with the images they were seeing on their television sets. There were a lot of candid questions and a lot of candid answers, and a lot of I don't really know's coming from their teacher. At the end of each school day, my students would line up for either a hug or a high-five as they left the classroom. They all got hugs for a while, whether they requested it or not.

My 9/11 story is not particularly dramatic or traumatic. It's like thousands upon thousands of other stories. But when you're 14 years out, it's easier to see the people who really made a difference in your own life when it came to dealing with the craziness of the situation. And you can reflect on how you handled it, and be prepared to do it differently next time. Because the truth is, there will be a next time, on some level. Tragedies happen all the time, whether it's on a personal level or a world-wide level. I've heard this saying before, and I said it to my own children once when we were driving past a horrific accident....Look for the heroes. Look for the helpers. I think it's easy to be angry in the midst of terrible situations. It's easy to be distracted by and drawn to the horror. It's really easy to point the fingers at those to blame. But looking for the heroes and the helpers can change the way your heart looks at the world. Don't you think? Mr. B was a hero to me. The parents who pulled their kids out of class certainly taught me something. And those sweet students of mine helped me to focus on a way to be helpful to them. And the images of heroes and helpers were also on the television, in the midst of the horror. I suspect there will be more of that on the TV tomorrow, as our nation reflects on this tragic anniversary. And I'm certainly thankful for that.

I found the quote after I finished this post, and of course it comes from Mr. Rogers. It's definitely one worth remembering. :)

Wednesday, September 9, 2015


     no child cooperated tonight. None of them.

Not Child #1.
Not Child #2. 
Not Child #3.
Not Child #4.
Not Child #5.
Not Child #6.
Not Child #7.
You'd think since all evening sports were cancelled because of rain, and since I didn't have dinner to make...(my precious Momma cooked for us all)...that tonight would be easy. 


I swear I begged....begged....for the kids to stay in their rooms at bedtime. I beg of you to stay in your room! Then I threatened. I swear if you come out again!....Then Daddy came home, and I ran away to my room with wine and queso. 
My lumps disapprove. 

But now that the kids are all quiet, and I'm away from their heifer behinds for a minute, and I can breathe, I realize how lucky we really are. 

Annie is a pre-teen and has found a smidge of sass, but she's smart and talented and has so much confidence. 

Jack is a complete goofball and can't go a day without an injury, but he has a genuine heart of gold and a strong moral compass. 

Adam has found his argumentative side, but he wants to do right and he does it a lot when he thinks no one is looking. 

Josiah is full of fire! But he's also full of love for his little brothers and he tries to guide them and teach them daily.

Kyle is a crazy mess...a little rotten and a lot ornery. But he's working hard, and he's a laugh a minute. 

Cranky Frankie is still just that, but he's a good boy and a trooper in a family who doesn't give him much time to be a baby. 

And Henry....although he's settled into the role of a Terrible Two, he's crazy-smart and super-loveable and a true gift to our whole family. 

My kids can be so rotten and so frustrating and a downright pain in the ass, but we are lucky, lucky, lucky.


Just think how much I'd like them if they actually went to bed on time! 

Peanut Butter Jelly Time

Here's a Mommy Tip for ya:

Make toddler PBJ's on hot dog buns. They are much easier for little hands to hold! 
I wouldn't eat it, but that's besides the point. 

Henry, Mon

The housework can wait.
Hug a hippie.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Sunday Funday

Oh my word. Finally a free day! We spend our days going here, there, and everywhere, but every single person has been home for every single minute of today. And now, all seven of my babies are downstairs with Daddy watching a movie, while I make chocolate chip cookies. It's 100% my favorite kind of day. We used to have these kinds of days almost every weekend, but our new norm is rush, rush, rush almost every day of the week. I loathe it. But whaddya gonna do? You're gonna take advantage of the free days when you can get them, I guess. The kids spent most of their mornings with their faces in their screens, and then did some swimming this afternoon. Brandon and I cooked meals and cleaned house...and then repeated that several more times. It wasn't the picture perfect family day, but all nine of us being in each other's presence makes the day awesome, chores or not. So I hope you're all enjoying some time with the people you love this holiday weekend! And make some cookies, while you're at it!

Cookie recipe from my friend Kelly.--->
Super easy and super yummy. 
I keep it
 taped inside my cabinet door because I
make them All The Time.

Frankie was unconcious before the cookies were done, so he'll get his for breakfast. (Don't tell the authorities.) And the other boys were in PJ's...which means 'nearly naked.' Boys. 
Excuse the picture in the dark, but you can still count heads and 
check that they're all there. :) 
(Because I know you do it.)
Super Sunday Selfie
Seriously Satisfied Sara

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Stitch Fix: Part Two-Arrival!

If you haven't read Part 1, you can do so here. It's important that you have a clear understanding of my craziness to full appreciate Part 2. 

So my Stitch Fix delivery arrived. I kind of expected this:
Even though I knew five items wouldn't present itself in this way, it was, nevertheless, the image in my mind of my impending Stitch Fix delivery.
My delivery, however, came like this:
Look hard.
I heard the honk-honk of Sheryl The Mail Lady as she left my driveway. Honk-honk meaning, "You got another delivery, Freakshow! It's on the porch!" I approached the front door and saw it. My box. Singular
Through the filthy dirty and markered-up glass -(which I'm waiting to clean until my Norwex polishing cloth arrives!)-I saw the one measly box.
Henry helped me bring it in.
Henry needs to be on the 'all pants' Stitch Fix subscription.
Inside my box I found five goodies. :)   
Excitement, excitement!!

So be forewarned....the following pictures are #1 self-taken...with the help of the iPhone timer, a file cabinet to hold the phone and a wooden spoon to keep it in place, #2 terribly focused and lit because of #1, and #3 kind of sad & pathetic in a frumpy, stay-at-home mom kind of way. Welcome to Sara!
Camera prep & The Before, in all it's mom-glory.
I'm a jeans kind of girl. Typically, I pair with it a tank top and cardigan sweater. I went wild and crazy today and put on a sweatshirt.
Here it goes.

Item #1: Jeans
I cringed when I saw that the jeans were a size smaller than I wear on a comfy day. 14 is a comfy day. Plus they were 'super skinny'. Cringe again. It took some work to get into them, but I managed.
Kind of.
But once I got them on, I actually kind of liked them. They were for once the proper length. I usually fall somewhere in between regular length and long, and these were just right.  And they are crazy comfortable. Just the right amount of stretch to suck in all my stuff, while allowing breathing. Breathing is not a must when wearing cute jeans...says all women everywhere...but it's a bonus. And they came up just high enough for me to tuck in the lowest belly roll. I like it. They are $78 jeans, which is about $58 more than I would like to spend, but they are a contender. Plus my $20 style fee would go toward the purchase. I'm leaning towards 'yes'.

Item #2: Knit Top
It's a total no. Too tight. It's a large but just fits wrong in places that are all wrong.

Item #3: Tank Top
It's a maybe. (Excuse the disheveled-ness. I was changing in the kitchen.) I don't love that it's a bit of a racerback, which causes a problem with my standard, Target-brand bras. Plus, summer is about over. I did throw a blazer of mine over top of it, but I'm not sure. I'm thinking my BFF Beth would say yes, so I'm considering it.
I'm open to opinions 

Item #4: Striped Top 
 It's a winner! It's comfy. It fits loosely in the right areas. And its gray and black. Perfect to wear anytime, anywhere. It is $48, but I think it's worth it. It better not be Dry Clean Only. (Crap. It's Hand Wash, Dry Flat. I think it's still doable.)

Item #5: Scarf
Ignore the fact that I tried it on with the striped top. I wouldn't do that in real life.
I like the scarf. I love scarfs, actually. And I especially like to wear them when I'm hanging with my Bunco girls because we always laugh about the time I wore one on the hottest day of the year. But I was wearing it to cover up a for real hickie, for which Brandon was in gigantic trouble. Brandon....thinking he was soooooo funny.
Soooooo not funny.
Still trying to decide if the scarf is worth $28. 

So there's my Stitch Fix low-down.

wink wink

Stitch Fix: Part 1-Anticipation

I went to my friend Michelle's for a Norwex party last week. Norwex sells cleaning and household supplies, and people have parties in their homes...much like Pampered Chef, Tupperware (is that still around?), Scentsy, etc. At the party, Michelle mentioned that her husband makes fun of her because she's such an easy sell.  I thought, "Girl....you and me both." And somewhere, my husband was subconciously & feverishly nodding his head in agreement.

I kind of have a problem.

I have decided at least a hundred times that This is THE Answer! to at least a hundred new ideas. I have a cabinet full of homeopathic tablets that I won't be able to use in a decade. I have stacks of books and materials on the right way to raise children...."world's leading psychologists agree!" I have enough essential oils for 10 families. Under my kitchen sink sits dozens of 'BPA free!' jars full of homemade, earth-friendly cleaners. And in my bathroom is a basket full of beauty samples from two recent mail-order subscriptions. 

I'm a disaster on many levels.

But the truth is, I still think all of those ideas are great...and the answer to all my problems...some of them, at least. :) I just have a serious issue with follow-through. Nevertheless, my Norwex supplies should be arriving in a few days, and I'm certain it will be exactly what I need to get this dirty house in tip-top shape. :)
But today! Arriving today is really the Real Answer!
The solution to my lack of styling ability!
Exactly what this busy mom needs!
The Answer To My Fashion Dillemmas! 
Girls....it's Stitch Fix!

I've been seeing Stitch Fix all over Facebook lately. And after 2.6 seconds, I was sold! I quickly got on line, answered the brief questionnaire so they would know my exact size, style and financial preferences, and my own 'personal stylist' began assembling my new wardrobe. For a $20 fee, I get five items picked out just for me! I try them on at home, and simply send back what I don't want. They'll charge me for what I keep. Sounds like the perfect solution! Perfect, perfect, perfect. I'm trying to patiently wait for Miss Sheryl The Mail Lady to bring me my boxes. Poor Sheryl. She's here just about every day delivering this or that...because I'm also an Amazon Prime subscriber! Which really is a great service for only $99 a year!  

You should totally check it out!
Poor Sheryl.

I'll post my Stitch Fix-es after they arrive. Stay tuned!

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Little Bit Of Love

I've finally tired of seeing my seven-baby belly popping up as the first picture on my blog, so it seems it's time to write something new. Plus, I've started having conversations with various people...all in my head...which means it's time to head back to my therapeutic writing. We'll see just how long this therapy fits into my crazy schedule.

Today didn't start out as smoothly as I prefer. I came across a homework assignment that Kyle was supposed to turn in Friday....crap! Then we realized Annie left her trumpet at home....ugh! Then we came across Josiah's forgotten glasses....sigh. Josiah, who is in super-emotional seven-year old mode, wouldn't be able to have a productive day without them, so Brandon had to make a drop-off to the school with all the left-behinds. I usually have a general rule that whatever is forgotten stays forgotten, as I am not running things to school that the kids should be remembering themselves. But we're cutting Mr. Joe some slack.  I love the quote:

 The kids who need the most love will ask for it in the most unloving ways.
I know that's the truth.  If I've learned nothing else as a mom of seven, I've learned that. I haven't learned how to properly react to that bit of truth every time and in every situation, but there's a little bird pecking it into my brain every time a kid stomps away or cries over something silly or says something ugly.
This one needs something.
This one needs some loving.
Find some extra time for this one.
Josiah has been that one...and so has Mr. Kyle.  Kyle, as a brand new Kindergartner, is somewhere in between 'Mommy's Little Boy' and 'Big Boy Going To School.' After one school-day last week, during which Kyle did not act very Kindergarten like, he said he needed to 'work harder on Kindergartner-ing.' Such wise reflection regarding some un-wise choices. After the two little boys went to bed, I gathered the older five together. I talked to them about how some of their brothers needed them, and how lucky our family was to have so many people in it to help. I know how good it feels to hear words of encouragement, and I knew it would help the boys. The kids gathered around Kyle and Joe to pray and encourage. I'm not terribly religious, but I know that feeling loving hands on your skin and hearing words of love can change the way you feel....in an instant.

It looks very sweet, and it was. But in the spirit of full disclosure, I did hear one of these boys say to the other, "Get out of my face!" about 20 minutes later, so instantaneous miracles don't always occur. But the moral of the story is: A little lovin' is always a good thing. ;)

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

No Shame!

Don't you love a pair of great-fitting jeans?


Ain't no shame in my game!
Mom of Seven perfection, baby!
(or something like that....)

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