Constant Beginnings

Our neighbor across the street has an empty lot next to his house. He has graciously constructed a neighborhood garden of sorts and began growing his crop earlier this spring. The girls frequent the lot, playing soccer, spies, and attempting to climb the apple and plum trees that call the lot home. My dear neighbor posted this on facebook, " Thanks to who ever decided to pull out my pumkin plant and break the other one. I was trying to grow some for holloween." Spelling errors aside, I immediately asked my lovely girls if they were touching Mr. David's pumpkin plants to which Claire firmly denied. I breathed a sigh of relief, tucked them into bed and posted my response on facebook, " not your little friends here either., but it may have been me, sabotaging the contest ;)" Flash forward to morning. Chris comes in the bathroom to share the news. He interrogated the girls at breakfast and they confessed. I could feel my skin crawl with embarrassment, disappo...

We went to dinner with our besties on Wednesday evening, leaving the girls at their house. While we were out, their dog, Peanut took a bite on Mya's face. Apparently, Mya was sitting on Peanut's pillow and I can only assume, bothering him. He most likely became annoyed and responded the only way he knew how. It just so happened they were eye level with each other. We cleaned it up, bandaged it and went home. As we drove home, I began to wonder if we should bring her into the ER. The bite wasn't that bad, but there was one spot that was a bit deeper than the rest. It was about the length of a fingernail. I wondered about the possibility of having that glued. I emailed my Mom and sister Lisa who supported the ER visit, so off Mya and I went. It was 8:30 pm. Mya hates doctors, etc. Not sure why. She has been pretty fortunate to have loving ones, but I suppose it is rather scary. Anyway, she cried. We made it to the ER, checked in, met with the triage nurses, sat in the waiti...

Claire is really pushing our buttons right now. She can be such a sweet thing, but it seems those moments are fewer than the ones where she is not listening, bugging/manipulating her sister or being sassy. I am struggling. We try so hard to teach about respect. She is a saint at school--never has been removed from "green," yet at home she can be a monster. Ugh. I feel like I am disciplining or yelling at her, which I really hate, so much of our time together. She is at a tough stage where she is old enough to do some things for herself and on her own, but still wants the help like when she was 3. For example, our mornings are busy. Chris takes care of breakfast, I pack lunches and we both try to make sure everyone is ready to roll. Both children can dress themselves--clothes are already laid out for them and school bags are packed, so basically, their only responsibility is to get dressed and sit down for breakfast. Claire insists on someone helping her get dressed. It is s...

I've shared on several occasions my constant, daily struggle to simply "be present." I came across this on my other sister's blog. It paints the picture better than I ever could. Kelly found this picture on Jennifer Hatmaker's blog. I actually read this blog too. Love her perspective on faith, love and children. She's an adoptive momma as well. I find inspiration in it all.  http://jenhatmaker.com/blog.htm

Yesterday morning was a tough one at our house. Things started out great, but quickly went downhill. Very quickly. Chris is working mids (6 pm to 6 am) this week, which means it is all me in the morning. I've got it all figured out down to a science. I know precisely how much time I need to get ready, how much time I need to make breakfast (yes, the kids actually request breakfast before they go to school where they eat another breakfast, so I make eggs/cereal/waffles, etc.), and precisely what time we need to get out the door to ensure I get to work at a reasonable time. It is a science and I've mastered it. Or thought I had--until yesterday came upon us. One area I struggle with in being a Mom is holding strong to the boundaries I set. Let's face it, when I say my child needs to bring a jacket, but she chooses to bring a sweatshirt, does it really matter? No. I pick these battles everyday and struggle on the psychological end of things. I've read the parenting books ...