Would they know me?

So- I just spent an hour (that should have been spent cleaning our bathroom floors) reading a news article about a woman and her husband who were involved in a plane crash a year ago. The woman was so severely burned that, among multiple other severe medical conditions, she was left not looking at all like herself anymore.

She has 4 small children.

Her recovery was very slow- in a coma for a while after the accident. Her children were taken by her sisters to be cared for. It was months before they got to visit her in the hospital.

And when they did- they were frightened. And the younger ones didn't recognize her. Even after coming home from the hospital, the little ones didn't recognize her as their mom.

It has made me think about how I would try to get my children to recognize me, if I didn't look like me. I don't really have songs that I sing to them anymore, not since they were babies. Unless you count the music on radio disney, I sing along to that. Hymns- I sing hymns when doing housework. Maybe they would recognize my butchering of church hymns? I've been sitting here trying to think what I call them, if I have special names for them that only I use. I'm sure I do- but what are they? What would I do to make them 'recognize' me?

All I can envision myself saying are things like "Sam- don't hit" and "Would you please stop" and "In a minute".

I envision my role as mom by more of the things I do, versus being the person I am. They way I prepare a lunch when I know Ally doesn't like what they are having, the way I put way their clean clothes, prepare our meals, tidy their toys, set up the doll house, clean our home. But what if I couldn't do those things? What is it about me that makes me me, that makes me their mom.

Reading her story has rejuvinated me for my role as mom. There are things that mom's do for their children that can not be done by another person. Because they are done as only that person would do them. The way they kiss their children's necks, they way they turn pages in a storybook, the way they prepare and serve meals (aka- know whos food to cut up, who gets ketchup, who gets ranch, who does or doesn't like cheese- I'm like a freakin' short order cook). I am their mother. And although there are many a mom who in my mind do things wayyyyy better than I do them- I am the card they were dealt. I am mom to three little beings.

And I am going to try and be more of the mom I know they deserve. Less busy, more playful, better focused on their stories, less preoccupied by lists of stuff 'to do', but still me- so not perfect.

These children are what make me whole. They are what fills me. They are the reason that I keep going. I've always joked that I could never die, because Dan doesn't know where all the dishes go. Strangely enough- I take comfort in that. And I am grateful for every day that the Lord allows me to continue in this role as mom and wife (and housekeeper, record keeper, guinea pig changer, toilet scrubber, laundress, and on and on and on).

I also plan to not take for granted the days- the regular old days that tend to make me think I am going crazy. Although, I will probably still feel that way, I want the kids to know how much I enjoy this trip with them driving.

And right now- I am off to play slap jack.

It was a good day.............

Sam had a wonderful birthday. It was a blessing.

About the cakes- he got up yesterday morning and peered into the cake dome and said "I thought it was going to be a choo choo train". Uhgg. Then he said "For my other party- I want a big cake sponge bob". I quit.

One more time.............

Just for one more night, I will go to bed with my sweet baby 3 year old tucked neatly asleep. Because tomorrow, he will turn 4. I get weepy at birthdays. They come so quickly, and the kids are growing so fast, and it's hard to believe.

He is so excited about his birthday that he really struggled falling asleep tonight. He kept getting up, singing, talking, asking for things..........he just couldn't let go. Tomorrow is his big day- and for that I am happy. I'm happy because he is happy. But I'm sad that he's already almost 4.

All of that mushy stuff aside- everyone knows what I have been doing tonight. The cake. Why oh why oh why do I not just call a bakery you may ask????? I LOVE baking the kids birthday cakes. Too bad for them, I am not so good at it. I personally blame the internet. There are just way too many different pictures of stuff that make it all look so easy. I fall for it, every time.

Sam's request for this year- a snowman cake, no no no a spiderman cake- with no frosting, or toaster strudels.

What he's going to get:


No-that is not Elmo on crack- that would be spider man.

I somehow got the idea in my head that it would be easier, cuter, nicer, to make cake balls rather than just trying to draw something on a cake. I was wrong. (Cake Balls- for those of you who do not know- are cake and frosting all mushed together, rolled into balls and dipped in chocolate. Like a truffel, in a strange kind of way).

My hope is that Sam looks at his cupcakes tomorrow and thinks they are awesome. Because with only 3 birthdays under his belt, he doesn't have much to compare it to. And maybe he doesn't realize they sell Spider Man cakes at Sam's. And perhaps he'll forget that Rebecca could have made something really awesome for him. Yeah- or maybe he'll just know that although they look ridiculous- his mommy spent 2.5 hours creating them and will just go with it.


Despite the less than perfect cake- it's going to be a good day. I mean look, he already loves his presents!

Peace..............

I want a piece of peace.

Just for a brief moment, my heart is screaming for just a brief moment of peace.

The kids have been on Christmas break. I love my children. I really do. But they do not facilitate peace. And I am about to loose my ever loving mind.

They scream, run, play, throw, ask.questions.all.the.time., fight, bicker, squabble and hit. My head is on the verge of exploding. And it won't be pretty.

I will miss this someday, having little kids at home. I can already tell how devastating it will be when they are grown. But right now I don't see that. All I see is loud, crazy children taking over our home and doing with it what they will.

Tomorrow the school bus will come, and although I will instantly miss them, right now I can hardly wait. Perhaps we will be able to get some of our old 'normal' back.

You know- the normal where only Sam gets to destroy the house while the girls are at school.

If your goal is to be warm...........

Then this is the scarf for you.

But if your goal is to be fashionable..........

You might want to do your shopping elsewhere.

It's a little, well, not straight or even. As far as I can tell, my crocheting took a turn on New Years Eve- after an entire bottle of wine.

I'll try to stay sober on the next one.

But I'm still going to wear it- dog gone it!

What is this world coming to?

My children are no different than the rest of the world- they LOVE playdough. Love it. Especially Sam. He used his money from the lunch with Santa to get a new set and couldn't wait to rip the box open.

But this time, I noticed something on the box......

What on earth kind of people are we raising that we have to list out suggestions for how to play with playdough? And of all things, we must now give an idea for kids to make a playdough hot dog? What?

I just don't get it. This is a scary world we live in. Have people really lost their ability to play with something that doesn't 'do it' on it's own?

Welcome 2010!

Happy New Year- from our crazy little house to yours!