It's been a challenging week, to say the VERY least. I'm reminded once again about so many things I took for granted.
A friend whom I normally laugh and joke around with at work noticed I was extra stressed this week. He tried his usual tricks to get me to smile then finally just said, "If you want to talk, you know where I am" and left it at that.
Then today, he sent me an email with a link to a song he wanted me to hear. Told me I probably shouldn't watch it at work because "you're a cryer"...which, duh, I am.
Needless to say...very glad I didn't watch it at work.
But I listened to the lyrics and got the message of what my friend was reminding me of. And what He keeps telling me. As long as I keep trying to do the right things. As long as I keep trying to be a good mom, friend and person. He will watch over me and the kids. He will make sure everything works out. He will provide.
Hello world.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
NO DANGER OF HOARDING HERE
I'd much rather be in the position to give than to receive. It's just where my comfort zone is. Always has been. And one day I will be in that position again.
So here I go, once again sorting through our belongings. What do we really need? The definition of 'need' has changed so much in the past few years. What do I simply 'want' to keep? Will it have the same meaning 10 years from now as it does today? Some things I have no way of telling that about. Do I keep all the art work received from the kids' Open House? Truth be told, I'm more likely to keep their items over mine.
I've discovered just how little I need to get by these days. The essentials. But there are items that belong to my heart and always will. They seem simple and unimportant to anyone else, but I have particular keys, cards, letters, receipts, books, cd's of music, dried roses. Will these things have meaning in the long run? If I toss them, will I regret it?
I guess some items I'm just going to have to take a chance and bid them farewell. And the others? I figure if I can fit them in a shoe box...I'll risk taking that much room to store them in my closet. Because some things, no matter how simple, just can't be replaced.
I want to be able to open that box one day in the future, pull out an item and say, "I remember this. I remember when it happened. When it was given to me or how I came upon it. How it made me feel special and loved.". Yes some items I'll keep.
They're just too important or have too much potential to let go. At least yet...
Thursday, March 24, 2011
PLAY BALL!
This past Tuesday night was Shelby's first softball game.
:::Pause for mom pride.:::
I played softball my whole life. So when Belle became the age allowed to play, all my friends asked...or rather assumed...Shelby would play.
I asked her if she wanted to and the answer was, "I don't want to get sweaty".
Who are you?! You have my DNA!
So, I never pressed her to play. Never even tried to convince her to give it a try. A couple months ago, she was once again invited join a team and this time, actually to my surprise, she gave an enthusiastic, "YES!" as her answer. Then I was asked to help coach and I gave my enthusiastic, "YES!" answer.
I have to say, even though she didn't get a hit this game (it's machine pitch and she's a little nervous at that ball speeding toward her general direction...all the other girls have played before so they've had their learning-curve!) she did do good. She never got upset about not getting a hit. She laughed she only got foul balls and looked forward to batting again. Her attitude was the thing that made me the most proud. Every defensive play she was in "ready position" and looked like a 'real' softball player.
I found myself looking in a rear view mirror or sorts as I watched her. I heard my mom yelling at me from the stands. And more often than not, I didn't hear her. "Did you hear me yelling for you?" she'd ask and every time I'd say, "Mom! No I didn't. I was concentrating!" and she'd just smile. "Good. You better be paying attention to the game!" she'd answer and just smile. She was at every single one of my games. Of course Dad was also, but for a long time he was also one of the coaches!
I am literally filled with pride watching her. I know it's just a sport to most, but it was a huge, huge part of my life for 20 years. It taught me determination, sharing, strategy, winning with gratitude, losing with grace and how to work together on a team who was aiming for the same goal. It has always been a great love in my life. While this may be both her first and last year (hey, you never know with her!), I'm glad she's had the opportunity and so far seems to really enjoy it.
Here's to my little soon-to-be-slugger. Seriously people...once she DOES get ahold of that ball, lookout! I'm so proud of you, my Shelby. I hope you have fun and learn a few things along the way also.
:::Pause for mom pride.:::
I played softball my whole life. So when Belle became the age allowed to play, all my friends asked...or rather assumed...Shelby would play.
I asked her if she wanted to and the answer was, "I don't want to get sweaty".
Who are you?! You have my DNA!
So, I never pressed her to play. Never even tried to convince her to give it a try. A couple months ago, she was once again invited join a team and this time, actually to my surprise, she gave an enthusiastic, "YES!" as her answer. Then I was asked to help coach and I gave my enthusiastic, "YES!" answer.
I have to say, even though she didn't get a hit this game (it's machine pitch and she's a little nervous at that ball speeding toward her general direction...all the other girls have played before so they've had their learning-curve!) she did do good. She never got upset about not getting a hit. She laughed she only got foul balls and looked forward to batting again. Her attitude was the thing that made me the most proud. Every defensive play she was in "ready position" and looked like a 'real' softball player.
I found myself looking in a rear view mirror or sorts as I watched her. I heard my mom yelling at me from the stands. And more often than not, I didn't hear her. "Did you hear me yelling for you?" she'd ask and every time I'd say, "Mom! No I didn't. I was concentrating!" and she'd just smile. "Good. You better be paying attention to the game!" she'd answer and just smile. She was at every single one of my games. Of course Dad was also, but for a long time he was also one of the coaches!
I am literally filled with pride watching her. I know it's just a sport to most, but it was a huge, huge part of my life for 20 years. It taught me determination, sharing, strategy, winning with gratitude, losing with grace and how to work together on a team who was aiming for the same goal. It has always been a great love in my life. While this may be both her first and last year (hey, you never know with her!), I'm glad she's had the opportunity and so far seems to really enjoy it.
Here's to my little soon-to-be-slugger. Seriously people...once she DOES get ahold of that ball, lookout! I'm so proud of you, my Shelby. I hope you have fun and learn a few things along the way also.
 |
| Shelby's first softball game. |
 |
| This coach loves this girl! |
Monday, March 21, 2011
MY CUP DEFINITELY RUNNETH OVER
There's a movie I often got ribbed at liking. It's Hope Floats. It came on about two weeks ago and I found myself with a notepad watching it. Why? Because of the quotes. They are awesome.
From: "A dance is a conversation between two people. Talk to me."
To: "That's what families are for. It's why they're invented. So 'hopeless' doesn't get the last word."
And of course: "Beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts the most. You need to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning."
Lately, I've had a bad 'habit' (we'll call it) of getting overcome by the set-backs in my life. Not remembering quickly enough that many people have it worse. Then something happens to remind me. Like a friend-of-a-friend's daughter having to go through life-threatening brain surgery and being told she may not make it. (Thankfully, she did...but I can't imagine her parents anxiety and weight on their hearts). Or a precious young girl in our community who was taken too suddenly this past weekend from this world.
Then today, as I'm in the middle of my pitty-party, I get a reminder from God (and apparently several people who love me) that things really aren't so bad and I'm not alone. Repeat...I'm not alone. And I'm loved. So...I guess I don't have it too bad afterall. I've just got to remember to pick the positive to focus on and like my devotional says...turn it over to HIM. Because He WILL take care of it.
Every. Single. Time.
Maybe not in the way I prayed for, but every time, nevertheless.
THANK YOU.
Count Your Blessings
I've never made a fortune,
and it's probably too late now.
But I don't worry about that much,
I'm happy anyhow.
And as I go along life's way,
I'm reaping better than I sowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.
Haven't got a lot of riches,
and sometimes the going's tough.
But I've got loving ones all around me,
and that makes me rich enough.
I thank God for his blessings,
and the mercies He's bestowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.
I remember times when things went wrong,
My faith wore somewhat thin.
But all at once the dark clouds broke,
and the sun peeped through again.
So Lord, help me not to gripe,
about the tough rows I have hoed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.
If God gives me strength and courage,
When the way grows steep and rough.
I'll not ask for other blessings,
I'm already blessed enough.
And may I never be too busy,
to help others bear their loads.
Then I'll keep drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.
When I think of how many people
in this world have it worse than I do.
I realize just how blessed most of us really are.
From: "A dance is a conversation between two people. Talk to me."
To: "That's what families are for. It's why they're invented. So 'hopeless' doesn't get the last word."
And of course: "Beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts the most. You need to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning."
Lately, I've had a bad 'habit' (we'll call it) of getting overcome by the set-backs in my life. Not remembering quickly enough that many people have it worse. Then something happens to remind me. Like a friend-of-a-friend's daughter having to go through life-threatening brain surgery and being told she may not make it. (Thankfully, she did...but I can't imagine her parents anxiety and weight on their hearts). Or a precious young girl in our community who was taken too suddenly this past weekend from this world.
Then today, as I'm in the middle of my pitty-party, I get a reminder from God (and apparently several people who love me) that things really aren't so bad and I'm not alone. Repeat...I'm not alone. And I'm loved. So...I guess I don't have it too bad afterall. I've just got to remember to pick the positive to focus on and like my devotional says...turn it over to HIM. Because He WILL take care of it.
Every. Single. Time.
Maybe not in the way I prayed for, but every time, nevertheless.
THANK YOU.
Count Your Blessings
I've never made a fortune,
and it's probably too late now.
But I don't worry about that much,
I'm happy anyhow.
And as I go along life's way,
I'm reaping better than I sowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.
Haven't got a lot of riches,
and sometimes the going's tough.
But I've got loving ones all around me,
and that makes me rich enough.
I thank God for his blessings,
and the mercies He's bestowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.
I remember times when things went wrong,
My faith wore somewhat thin.
But all at once the dark clouds broke,
and the sun peeped through again.
So Lord, help me not to gripe,
about the tough rows I have hoed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.
If God gives me strength and courage,
When the way grows steep and rough.
I'll not ask for other blessings,
I'm already blessed enough.
And may I never be too busy,
to help others bear their loads.
Then I'll keep drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.
When I think of how many people
in this world have it worse than I do.
I realize just how blessed most of us really are.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME
Yes, it's been just a little while since I've written. Not too terribly long, but long enough (apparently) I've had questions as to why I haven't.
Life has a way of grabbing me by the wrist, or pushing me from behind, and saying, "Let's go...no time to sit!" and so I follow along.
But last weekend, I made time to sit.
We (me, Ben and Shelby) went and visited the folks in Fredericksburg.
My dad volunteers at the Nimitz Museum (The National Museum of the Pacific War, to be more exact) and a couple times a year, they conduct a live re-enactment of the Pacific Invasion. Can I just say, "Wow"?! I wish I had more eloquent words to express my sheer awe of what we were able to see, but I know I said that particular word many times.
But before I get to that, dad also arranged for a very special ride to take us to the invasion:
Life has a way of grabbing me by the wrist, or pushing me from behind, and saying, "Let's go...no time to sit!" and so I follow along.
But last weekend, I made time to sit.
We (me, Ben and Shelby) went and visited the folks in Fredericksburg.
My dad volunteers at the Nimitz Museum (The National Museum of the Pacific War, to be more exact) and a couple times a year, they conduct a live re-enactment of the Pacific Invasion. Can I just say, "Wow"?! I wish I had more eloquent words to express my sheer awe of what we were able to see, but I know I said that particular word many times.
But before I get to that, dad also arranged for a very special ride to take us to the invasion:
 |
| Sherman Tank |
That's right. Ben rode up front, Shelby stood in the tank with her head sticking out and Momma (moi!) was up top by the BAR. It was a rough ride. It was very cold. And it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience I will never forget. In addition, we found out later, it was quite a privilege to be allowed to do this.
I told a couple people I finally knew what it felt like to be a "parade queen" with all the people pulling over on the side of the road, waving and taking pictures! Ha! And it was hilarious throughout the ride as we all had headsets on and Ben just kept saying, "This is so cool. This is so cool." to where the men driving the tank would just break out into laughter finally and Ben would go, "What? It is! Y'all are just used to it!"
On to the invasion...
The long-and-short of it is there are ex-Marines/Navy, current Marines/Navy and volunteers who all work together to make this program as real as possible. They talk about why the invasion occurred, how many troops were involved, where they came from and finally...the weapons. Oh baby the weapons!
There's a reason they hand out ear plugs as you walk in and **stress** that you wear them. The pyrotechnics and yes, weapons, are phenomenal and LOUD. Afterall, they may be shooting blanks, but they are loud. They even fired the tank several times!
They explain, in detail, every weapon and then demonstrate it.
Our favorite person in the program was a retired Marine Colonel. Without a doubt, the most intimidating man I've ever met.
We were lucky enough to meet four (4!) World War 2 vets. What an honor! Afterward, we were able to meet all the soldiers and the kids were very happy to do it.
 |
| Ben and "Mr. Intimidating"...USMC Colonel Ret. Ben was so bummed he smoked! |
 |
| Shelby met a retired soldier of her own...Benjamin the German Shepherd was a bomb sniffer. |
Thank you SO much for an amazing weekend, dad and Sue. We love you and appreciate you more than you will ever know.
 |
| Pa, Grammy, Shelby & Ben. |
Thursday, March 10, 2011
I'M SORRY...IS IT TOO SOON?
I've got an Open House to get ready to go to, a trip I need to pack me and two kiddos for, a TON of work, emails and calls to return...but I have to take a few minutes and get this down.
I told a friend today about my Ben. How he has **always** been a happy kid. I remember one day, he was only a few months old, swinging in his swing and started laughing. No reason. Just cackled away.
George was sitting beside him and turned and looked at him and said, "That kid is just a one-man party!".
I'm pleased to say time hasn't changed that about him.
He is happy. He loves making others happy. He is nice to everyone. Has plenty of friends. He would be an argument in favor of cloning! :-)
Every day, since he was in Pre-K, when he gets out of school, he comes out with a smile on his face. Often running over to me and always greets me with a hug. My friends whose sons are the same age often remark, "Wow...there's no way mine would still hug me in front of his friends." Whenever we are walking somewhere, it isn't odd for him to reach and grab my hand.
Ben walks to the beat of his own drummer. He doesn't care what people think (to a degree, of course). What I mean is he does what he likes and if someone says anything to him about it, he says, "I don't care...I like it."
So today as he got out of school, he ran over to me and hugged me. Asked how my day was. Told me his was great and said, "Let's go!". He reached to hold my hand, then...
...he let it go.
I said, "Ohhhhh."
"What mom?"
"You just let go of my hand," and I smiled.
"Oh. Yeah. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" he asked very sensitively.
"Yes, baby. I knew this day would come," I answered and grinned at him.
Then the words that made my heart feel like it stopped for a brief second and jumped into my throat...
"I'm so sorry mom. Did it come too soon for you? If it did, I'll hold your hand," he replied.
"No honey. I'm okay. You're growing up and it's really fine," I kept smiling because I didn't want him to feel bad at all.
"Oh just give me your hand! You're gonna cry aren't you?!" he laughed.
"No, it's okay, you sweet thing!" and I laughed along with him. He knows me way too well! Yep...I'm a crier!
"You know I love you, right?"
"I have no doubt about that and I love you too," I said.
And because he is the one-man party, his follow-up was classic.
"What can I say, mom? Puberty is coming so you better grab an auto shotgun!"
What?
"You know...so you can shoot it out of the sky before it reaches me since you don't want me to grow up!"
"Oh my word Ben...I'm okay with you growing up, goober!"
"Good...'cuz I really want to."
::::sigh::::
It should also be noted he got home from school yesterday and cheerfully announced, "I'm officially 5-feet tall!" (They measured in PE). "Yep, I'm growing up for sure mom. That's me...strrrrrronnnnngggg!"
This kid kills me! :-) I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART AND MORE BEN!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
ME LIKEY!
Dear Gift Gods,
Just in case you were wondering what to get me for...well no occassion whatsoever...here it is. The Mr. Coffee Frappe Maker. I've even narrowed down the retailer...Target. Shocker.
Many thanks,
T
Just in case you were wondering what to get me for...well no occassion whatsoever...here it is. The Mr. Coffee Frappe Maker. I've even narrowed down the retailer...Target. Shocker.
Many thanks,
T
Monday, March 7, 2011
I'VE BEEN TRYING TO SLOW IT DOWN, TAKE IT IN...
A few weeks ago, Shelby started having trouble sleeping. This has always been the child who would be the first in the house to fall asleep. It used to drive Ben nuts. "How does she do it? She doesn't even have to try!" he'd say with such exasperation in his voice.
But every once and awhile over the past few weeks, she's come into my room after going to bed. Even tells me as she's first lying down, "I just know I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight, Mommy. PLEASE let me watch tv," she'll plead. The answer is always the same: "No honey...it's bedtime. This phase will pass and sleep will come easy again."
Fast forward to last night when I had two visitors. It went as so...
9:30
Shelby: Mommy, I just wanted to tell you my throat is dry and I need a drink.
Me: Okay, let's get one then go back to bed.
Shelby: Okay. I love you so much.
Me: I love you so too.
11:15ish
Ben (sleepwalking!): Mom...remember when I said I wanted to be a Marine and you finally said 'Okay'.
Me: Yes
Ben: Well I still do. Are you still okay with it.
Me: Baby, I'm okay with anything you want to do as long as it makes you happy.
Ben: Okay good, Because I do. I love you. You're the best mom in the world.
Me: :::sigh:::: How'd I get so lucky?!
Ben: Remember mom...I love you more.
Me: That's not possible.
Ben: Yes it isssssssss!
(this has been a long-standing 'joke' between us...the whole 'that's not possible...yes it isssssss!').
11:30ish
Shelby: Mommy, I just wanted to tell you sorry for getting up earlier.
Me (as I tell the person I'm speaking with on the phone to hang on): No problem, but that's not a reason to get out of bed.
Shelby: I know...sorry.
Me: It's okay. Now stay in bed. It's VERY late and you are going to be very tired in the morning. I love you.
Shelby: I love you too and I really am sorry.
Midnight
Shelby: Mommmmmm....I just wanted to let you know how good you smelled when I came in while ago.
Me: Oh. My. Word. Shelby...do not get out of bed again.
Shelby: Okay...
Me: I love you honey, but this is not good.
Shelby: Well...you do smell good.
Me: Thank you, now go to bed.
Shelby: What kind of lotion did you use to get that smell, exactly?
Me: Baby, go to bed!
You guessed it...this morning wasn't pretty.
I know one day I will look back on times like this and wish with every fiber of my being these two little cuties would grace the frame of my bedroom door with their sleepy eyes and silly comments. I'm aware how fast time passes and am incredibly blessed to be able to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight. Smell their freshly washed hair. Check on them when they are soundly sleeping and just sit there and stare at them.
But whew...last night, the little blond one was killin' me! :-) Though I love her with all my heart and will probably cry many a night in the not so distant future for her to come into my room with her half-awake self just to tell me I smell good and she loves me...last night, that child needed sleep!
I took many deep breaths last night. And reminded myself this time will, and already is, passing too quickly with them. Again I ask...where's the pause button?
::::sigh::::
As many times as I've heard this song, I've never seen the video until today. Salute to this here-today-gone-tomorrow-world we're living in...
But every once and awhile over the past few weeks, she's come into my room after going to bed. Even tells me as she's first lying down, "I just know I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight, Mommy. PLEASE let me watch tv," she'll plead. The answer is always the same: "No honey...it's bedtime. This phase will pass and sleep will come easy again."
Fast forward to last night when I had two visitors. It went as so...
9:30
Shelby: Mommy, I just wanted to tell you my throat is dry and I need a drink.
Me: Okay, let's get one then go back to bed.
Shelby: Okay. I love you so much.
Me: I love you so too.
11:15ish
Ben (sleepwalking!): Mom...remember when I said I wanted to be a Marine and you finally said 'Okay'.
Me: Yes
Ben: Well I still do. Are you still okay with it.
Me: Baby, I'm okay with anything you want to do as long as it makes you happy.
Ben: Okay good, Because I do. I love you. You're the best mom in the world.
Me: :::sigh:::: How'd I get so lucky?!
Ben: Remember mom...I love you more.
Me: That's not possible.
Ben: Yes it isssssssss!
(this has been a long-standing 'joke' between us...the whole 'that's not possible...yes it isssssss!').
11:30ish
Shelby: Mommy, I just wanted to tell you sorry for getting up earlier.
Me (as I tell the person I'm speaking with on the phone to hang on): No problem, but that's not a reason to get out of bed.
Shelby: I know...sorry.
Me: It's okay. Now stay in bed. It's VERY late and you are going to be very tired in the morning. I love you.
Shelby: I love you too and I really am sorry.
Midnight
Shelby: Mommmmmm....I just wanted to let you know how good you smelled when I came in while ago.
Me: Oh. My. Word. Shelby...do not get out of bed again.
Shelby: Okay...
Me: I love you honey, but this is not good.
Shelby: Well...you do smell good.
Me: Thank you, now go to bed.
Shelby: What kind of lotion did you use to get that smell, exactly?
Me: Baby, go to bed!
You guessed it...this morning wasn't pretty.
I know one day I will look back on times like this and wish with every fiber of my being these two little cuties would grace the frame of my bedroom door with their sleepy eyes and silly comments. I'm aware how fast time passes and am incredibly blessed to be able to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight. Smell their freshly washed hair. Check on them when they are soundly sleeping and just sit there and stare at them.
But whew...last night, the little blond one was killin' me! :-) Though I love her with all my heart and will probably cry many a night in the not so distant future for her to come into my room with her half-awake self just to tell me I smell good and she loves me...last night, that child needed sleep!
I took many deep breaths last night. And reminded myself this time will, and already is, passing too quickly with them. Again I ask...where's the pause button?
::::sigh::::
As many times as I've heard this song, I've never seen the video until today. Salute to this here-today-gone-tomorrow-world we're living in...
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
OH THANK HEAVEN FOR GLUE
That's right people...I'm well on my way to this title after today's shenanigans.
Anytime I goof up with the kids (did I say that?! Secret's out...I'm not perfect) I jokingly tell Ang, "Well...my Mother of the Year Certificate is surely on it's way now".
Let me start from the beginning. We moved into our apartment in November. Such a huge change adjusting to the space restrictions. We went from 4,000+ s.f. to about 3,000+ s.f. to our now 1,300+/- s.f. . You can see the possible calamity.
As much as we tried to scrape away with things we don't "need", there's always room for more scraping...come to find out. Shelby has the smallest room and Ben the largest (well, behind mine of course). I let them choose, so not my doing. Shelby also has the most stuff. She's a girl. You do the math.
So ever since we moved in, I've needed to go through (again) even more of her stuff and organize. Today I did that.
In trying to be a good mom, I came across her recent art project in which they are to make a fictitious animal. She chose to make her's out of clay (as her brother did in 2nd grade and she very-well remembers that). She did it ALL by herself (I hate when parents do all the work) and was so extremely proud of her Gorillafly (half gorilla, half butterfly).
Because she was having a playdate, I thought I should move it so nothing happened to it.
I'm telling you, it happened in slow motion. I picked it up to put it on a shelf by the dining room table and it all went downhill from there. Literally.
I felt HORRIBLE! I ran and got the Gorilla Glue (now isn't that some irony that the only glue I had was Gorilla Glue!?) and went to work.
She came home. Went to her room. Immediately yelled, "Mom! Where's my project!" and I was left to tell the truth.
Kind of.
I told her I was moving it and it started falling apart which was actually a good thing! She looked at me like I was crazy. I explained to her that I told her teacher about it and she told me that what usually happens on the Monday when the kids bring them in, they ALL start falling apart so here was our opportunity to secure it!
It worked. She was fine with that.
Still...how do these things happen!? I initially thought maybe I'd get on the other side of the bathroom door and tell her because she was so extremely proud and happy with that thing.
The straight-forward approach worked again (again...kinda).
Yeah, I'm not perfect...but thankfully, there's glue.
Always remember and never forget: "Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue.” ~ Eugene O'Neill
Anytime I goof up with the kids (did I say that?! Secret's out...I'm not perfect) I jokingly tell Ang, "Well...my Mother of the Year Certificate is surely on it's way now".
Let me start from the beginning. We moved into our apartment in November. Such a huge change adjusting to the space restrictions. We went from 4,000+ s.f. to about 3,000+ s.f. to our now 1,300+/- s.f. . You can see the possible calamity.
As much as we tried to scrape away with things we don't "need", there's always room for more scraping...come to find out. Shelby has the smallest room and Ben the largest (well, behind mine of course). I let them choose, so not my doing. Shelby also has the most stuff. She's a girl. You do the math.
So ever since we moved in, I've needed to go through (again) even more of her stuff and organize. Today I did that.
In trying to be a good mom, I came across her recent art project in which they are to make a fictitious animal. She chose to make her's out of clay (as her brother did in 2nd grade and she very-well remembers that). She did it ALL by herself (I hate when parents do all the work) and was so extremely proud of her Gorillafly (half gorilla, half butterfly).
 |
| Gorillafly...BEFORE the accident. |
Because she was having a playdate, I thought I should move it so nothing happened to it.
I'm telling you, it happened in slow motion. I picked it up to put it on a shelf by the dining room table and it all went downhill from there. Literally.
 |
| Gorillafly AFTER. :-( Poor Gorillafly! |
She came home. Went to her room. Immediately yelled, "Mom! Where's my project!" and I was left to tell the truth.
Kind of.
I told her I was moving it and it started falling apart which was actually a good thing! She looked at me like I was crazy. I explained to her that I told her teacher about it and she told me that what usually happens on the Monday when the kids bring them in, they ALL start falling apart so here was our opportunity to secure it!
It worked. She was fine with that.
Still...how do these things happen!? I initially thought maybe I'd get on the other side of the bathroom door and tell her because she was so extremely proud and happy with that thing.
The straight-forward approach worked again (again...kinda).
Yeah, I'm not perfect...but thankfully, there's glue.
Always remember and never forget: "Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue.” ~ Eugene O'Neill
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